Carina interrupted my spiraling thoughts when she added, “My point was that you need a good support network. Picking up Hannah from childcare is good, but what about ‘you’ time?”
“What ‘me’ time?” I asked rhetorically. I shook my head and admitted my biggest failing as a mom. “I can’t ask Mom. It’s too much. She helps when I work late, and that’s often. I shouldn't want to ask for a break from Hannah outside of when I’m working. I barely get to see her as it is. I'm at work all day, away from her. When I’m off, I should want to be with her.”
Carina made a noise that sounded a lot like disagreement. “What's the saying—it takes a village? One of the things Cara taught me was that the quality of the time spent together is more important than the quantity. I worked more than a full-time job when Cara was little. I missed so much.” She paused and exhaled, the regret heavy in her voice. “I was always exhausted, and I felt like all I did was drop balls, day in and day out.”
“Familiar,” I agreed. The weight of knowing I was making the same mistakes as others sat heavy.
“But Cara saw my dedication as inspirational. She said that it taught her to be a hard worker. She doesn’t remember the things I missed; she remembers the holidays we took to the beach when we built sandcastles together and the time or two I actually made it to her school assemblies to see her get an award. Even though my memories are very different, she remembers me being present.”
“I’m trying as best as I can. We go to the park, and I cook with Hannah sitting in her high chair in the kitchen. I sing to her, and we dance together.” My voice cracked, tears threatening to fall. I was doing everything I could, and I was still failing. I wasn’t good enough.
“You’re an amazing mum, Keeley.”
Her words washed over me like a balm, soothing the cracked and raw edges. I sucked in a breath, and the air tasted fresher, the weight on my chest easier to breathe through.
“Those things you do together will become memories that Hannah will treasure. But trust me when I say that you have to set some time to do things for yourself too. Don’t sacrifice your identity and your self-worth in a misguided attempt to prioritize Hannah. You’ve got to keep things for you, too, so you can be at your best for her. Working full time and being a solo carer ishard work. You need to recharge too.”
I shook my head, then asked, “When? Between work and doing everything us adults need to do, then spending time with Hannah, I don't have time.”
“You make time,” Carina explained.
I opened my mouth to tell her she was being ridiculous, but Carina spoke again. “Well, I want to help you make time. That’s what I'm calling about. Miller came over and confided in Jacques that he was worried about you. I overheard them talking. I didn’t know you were struggling, but I wanted to tell you that I’m your friend. I want to be part of your village if you’ll let me.”
I should have known Miller wouldn’t just listen, that he’d try to fix things for me. Anyone else, and I’d tell them to butt out, but he’d had been so caring and gentle with me. He was concerned I was afraid of Simon, and he’d listened to me vent about all the things falling down around me. I was grateful for that. He’d proven to me that he was paying more than lip service.He actually cared enough to speak with the dad whose baby was closest in age to Hannah and ask for advice. That meant more than I could voice out loud.
I asked Carina, “You do?”
She laughed, and I was surrounded by her warmth and caring even though she was probably miles away at their ranch. “Yes. Charlie could do with having a playdate. Can I come over and take Hannah for a few hours?”
“You don’t need to do this,” I whispered, on the edge of tears. She hadn’t just voiced every one of the insecurities I held, she’d shattered them. Just hearing her say that I was doing a good job meant the world. Telling me I needed to keep something for myself so that I didn’t lose my identity was lifesaving too.
“I want to. If I come by in an hour, does that suit? Linc and I will take Hannah for a few hours so you can do something for you. Read a book, take a bath, go to the beach, hit the hookup apps for all I care. Do something for you. No housework, no grocery shopping, no work. I'll do the same thing next week so Charlie can have a friend her own age, and you get a break then too.”
I couldn’t help the tears falling now. A weight that I’d been carrying since the moment Simon dumped his news on me was lifted. I wasn’t alone. Sure, I had my mom, but she had her own life, and I didn’t want to impose more than I already was. Maybe it was the way Carina had framed her suggestion, but with her, I didn’t feel like I was a bother. It felt like we were both gaining something out of it. I’d really needed not to feel like charity. I whispered past the lump in my throat, “Thank you.”
***
Carina arrived with Rusty about an hour later with Charlie in tow. Hannah had woken up moments earlier, and I’d changed her diaper and packed a bag for her. They were in and out within minutes with a promise to return in a few hours.
I walked around the house aimlessly, picking up a stray water cup and a few toys, then started the dishwasher and put a load of never-ending dirty laundry in the washer.
I couldn’t get over how quiet the house was without Hannah. I’d often been at home alone when I was with Simon, so it shouldn’t have been strange, but the stillness was jarring. It was even quieter than when Hannah was asleep.
I stripped the sheets off my bed and looked down at the pile in my arms. Carina’s words came back to me.Me time. These few hours were a chance for me to recharge and be my best for Hannah, not catch up on chores.
Exhaustion washed over me. I needed sleep, but that meant remaking the bed. There was something that would do me more good anyway. I dumped the sheets and changed into my workout gear, then went out to the garage. It was the first time I’d opened the door in months. I basked in the lights of my studio for a moment. I’d laid flooring down and had a pole installed to create a space just for me. I hadn’t used it since Hannah had come to live with me. But I was changing that right now.
I scrolled through my playlists and chose Spencer’s album. The first time I’d listened to it, I’d wanted to dance. I was obsessed with it, listening to his songs on repeat. When I hit Play, a sultry beat pumped through the speakers. I let the music wash over me and stretched to the sounds of his soulful voice. With every note, my excitement grew.
I loved pole dancing. The sensuality and strength were addictive. I loved the confidence it gave me and how sexy I felt dancing. I slipped into my kneepads and pumps. The two-inch platforms and a stiletto heel that stretched my ankles’flexibility to the max were perfect for the pole. The patent black leather shone under the red spotlight, and the diamantes on my sports bra cast scattered prisms on the timber flooring. I rolled my hips, letting the deep bass of the song thrum through me, carrying me away. Spencer’s voice was a rasp as he sang about sex and fantasy colliding. Grasping the pole above my head, I slid down it, my knees parted and my body waking up. Dancing like this was empowering. It was me owning my body.
People said I was too tall and too overweight and too boring. But none of that mattered out here. I felt sexy. I was as in control and desirable as I wanted to be. It was like a shot of aviation gas pumped straight into my thrusters. Dancing had boosted my confidence more than anything I’d ever done before.
I stood slowly and spun around, my arm extended and the pole between my knees. I rolled my hips before kicking out and turning again. My heart thrummed in my chest, and a sheen of sweat broke out over my skin as I kept moving. I closed my eyes and imagined being watched. My nipples hardened as I pictured their hungry stares. Miller would be touching himself. Spencer would prowl around me, watching me like a predator hunting for his next meal.
I ran one hand down my body, over my breasts, and to my pussy. I curled my leg around the pole, leaned back, holding on with my other hand, and I arched my back, grinding my pussy against the pole.
The guitar riff and heavy beat were hypnotizing. Spencer’s voice was drugging. It enveloped me, wrapping me in a sensual haze. I thrust my hips in a one-two beat, then let go. It was like I was flying, anchored only to the pole by my bent leg. I ran my hands down my body again and gripped the pole low before stretching up and sliding them down one after another like I was stroking a cock. I swung my hips, shifting my weight from side to side, swaying and letting Spencer’s singing hum through me.
