Alice’s words this morning fill my head as remorse fills my heart. “Oh, what have I done?” As mired as I am over this question, I’m in the clearing next to the trailer without conscious thought.
However, I don’t get any farther, because I’m not sure what I need to do to make things right. I can’t exactly walk up to Tyler and tell him I’ve changed my mind, and I’d like to get married and be a step mom to Zoe.
It’s a little tricky saying YES, when he hasn’t actually asked me. I might also set myself up for a double rejection with neither Zoe nor him, wanting me in their lives as a permanent feature.
Still in turmoil, thanks to the adoption bombshell, I’m not strong enough emotionally to cope with their rejection. And definitely not so soon after Mitchell had found me wanting and officially replaced me with a younger model.
Surely, there has to be an interim step I can take? I’m just not sure what it is. It’s when I walk over to the house, after stalling for a couple more hours, that I realize just how hard it’ll be.
It’s then I hear Tyler is no longer on site, having moved onto another project for the company. And there’s no missing the censure in the looks I receive from everyone other than Ethan.
It’s not until the following morning that it’s brought home just what I’ve lost. No light taps on the door to wake me, no sweet pastries and hot coffee, and no hot delivery man. That isn’t what I miss most, though. That’d be the cuddles as we talked about the day ahead, about what Zoe had been up to, and life. I’d loved those times.
In the days that follow, everything I do and everywhere I go, I see reminders of both Tyler and Zoe. It was only yesterday that I’d gotten around to taking down the balloons and streamers from the trees.
My plan had been to give them to Zoe, but that obviously wasn’t happening. Likewise, the large inflatable 5 is slowly losing air, something that should have happened in Zoe’s bedroom, not in the clearing.
The other thing that’s missing in the trailer is any breakfast foods, with Tyler taking care of these. After a couple of days of surviving on black coffee, I decide to remedy this.
There’s only one place open this early, and that’s Skye High Pies with their coffee and pastries the best on offer. Okay, and it’s also where Tyler bought all those breakfasts we’d enjoyed together.
TYLER
To a background of my mom bustling about making me some of the best dang pancakes in the world, I watch as Zoe drowns hers in maple syrup. It’s getting to the point her breakfast is going to be more like soup, forcing me to reach out and take the squeeze bottle off her.
“That’s enough. We don’t want you being sick at school.”
I’m still having trouble believing my little girl has started school. Watching her leave with my mom that first day, her backpack weighing her down, had me right back with Lily. The pair of us sitting on the front steps of the house watching all those kids traipse past.
There’d been no plastic carry bag for my daughter, with her sporting what she assured me was the best backpack ever. Pink, of course, and featuring mermaids. I’m imagining what Lily would think of it when mom puts a plate piled high with pancakes in front of me. She follows this up by patting my shoulder. It’s therefore no surprise, when on taking her seat opposite me, she lifts an eyebrow.
It’s an interrogation technique I know all too well, and I’m not biting.
A brief huff of annoyance and mom glances to check Zoe is concentrating on her breakfast. Her hands clasped on the table in front of her, my mom leans forward and eyeballs me. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
To give myself time to come up with something she might actually believe, I pick up my mug and hide behind it, exactly as Lily had that day. Mom’s not taken in for a second, which shouldn’t surprise me.
The woman is all too familiar with my various moods, often able to spot there’s a problem before I can myself. It’s a damned shame she can’t help me this time.
I take my time finishing my coffee, before putting my mug back down dead center on one of the large daisies that adorn the table cloth. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I follow this up by tipping my head in Zoe’s direction.
I don’t want to discuss my breakup with Lily in front of my daughter. Not with her ears now working overtime. While she might look like she’s away with the fairies half the time, she’s a smart kid.
Although not so smart that I can’t tell she’s listening in, simply by how slowly she’s eating. She always devours my mom’s pancakes as though afraid they’ll disappear before she can finish.
Usually I’d be the same, but this morning I’ve no appetite.
On my pushing my plate away, mom’s eyes cloud with worry. “Now I know something is wrong.”
Again, I look at Zoe in an unspoken request to bury it until later, although I don’t leave it to fate. Every chance she got, Zoe asked me about Lily, and while I’ve fobbed her off, it hasn’t been easy. Even now, two weeks after the breakup, the questions are still coming thick and fast. My daughter appears as obsessed with Lily as she is with mermaids.
She’ll get over it, in the same way she does everything else that takes her fancy. Better for both of us if I scrub all traces of Lily from our lives. She’d made it perfectly clear at Zoe’s birthday party that the sooner we left, the better.
“Not now, Mom. Later, okay?” There’s no need for me to add ‘once Zoe goes to bed’, my mom already nodding in silent agreement.
* * *
The new contract is a far cry from working at Lily’s place. While there, I’d been eager to get to the job site each day, especially joining Lily for breakfast in her trailer.
