Page 11 of Rising Star

My heart flipped in my chest. Beads of sweat popped on my nape. My mouth went dry. And black dots danced in front of my eyes.

Before I could object or come up with a reply, Mikaella jumped in. “Maddie is not your mama, loser. She’s your nanny. You already have a mama. And you can’t have two. It’s the rule.”

I let go of Mikaella’s hand to drag a palm over my face before turning toward her once I regained some of my composure back.

“Mika, you can’t talk to your sister like that. It’s not nice. What did I already tell you about using grown-up language?”

Justine’s eyes filled with tears.

My eldest daughter’s face was flushed with indignation. “I’m right. Maddie isn’t her mama.”

Awesome. Perfectly awesome.

“No. You liar. I don’t have a mama, and I want one. And I choose Maddie to be my mama. No one else. She’s nice. And kisses my booboos. And reads to me at night. And she thinks I’m a princess. Maddie is my mama.” Sobs rocked my baby’s body, and she hid her face in my leg.

I squatted to draw her to my heart. The one about to escape my chest and leave me to deal with this mess all by myself.

Words jammed in my throat. Mikaella continued her rant. “Your mama’s name is Lisa. Not Maddie. You’re so dumb, Justine. Stop being a baby. You cannot have two mommies. Just one. One. And you’re not allowed to choose.”

Her words shook me to my core, and I came back to my senses, holding my hands up to put a stop to the argument. “Girls, stop. Justine is allowed to wish she had a mama. It’s perfectly normal. And Mika, you’re right, Maddie is not your mama.” How would I ever deal with this? It was bound to happen at some point. Madison and I had crossed lines. We changed the rules. And without being aware, my daughters sensed it. I blamed myself for all of it. Even I had a hard time keeping up with the situation. For now, I wished the girls and I could have had this discussion later. When they were old enough to get it. To understand the hues and implications.

Leading my daughters to the nearest bench, I sat with them, on either side of me, with my arms curled around their shoulders.

“Listen. I know you have questions about Lisa. I do too. But I’m not sure I have the answers you’re both looking for. Justine, Maddie is not your mama. She’s a nice woman helping us out and taking care of you. She loves you two very much, but Mika is right.”

“But I want Maddie to be my mama,” she sniffled, pressing her runny nose against the sleeve of my T-shirt.

I tightened my arm around her. “I know you do.”

“And Mika, no more calling your sister names. Enough with that. It’s not how we speak to each other in this family. Justine is four. It’s all confusing to her. Even I am confused sometimes. It’s okay if you are too.”

“What confused means?”

I let out a low snicker. “It’s when you don’t know something because it seems a bit complicated. And a lot of grown-up things are confusing.”

“Can I call Maddie Mama?” Justine asked, her cheeks drenched with tears, but her eyes filled with hope.

“Let’s call her Maddie, okay? Can you do that?”

My youngest daughter bobbed her head and moving to her knees, hooked her arms around my neck. “I love you, Daddy.”

I pulled Mikaella closer. “I love you, girls. Now let’s go home and make some mac and cheese and have a picnic in your castle. Sounds good?”

They both cheered up, and our discussion was probably not forgotten, but put aside for now. When Lisa left, she put the burden of dealing with her departure on my shoulders. She fucking quit on us and didn’t even have to pick up the broken pieces she scattered behind.

From that night, I dreaded the moment I would have to explain her actions to our children. No, my children. She had lost the privilege to call them hers when she forfeited her parental rights.

With my heart heavy in my chest, I made it home, exhausted by all the things I had no control over.

* * *

“Okay, girls. Today we’re decorating the tour bus. I bought supplies to make it ours. Uncle Riley is freaking out at the idea we’re painting it pink, but I’m sure it will grow on him.” They both chuckled. Mikaella, Justine, Madison, and I were all dressed in old shorts and shirts, ready to tackle our pre-assigned tasks. “Justine and Maddie, you’re in charge of the bunk room. You’re painting all four walls in the bubblegum pink we picked up earlier. Tomorrow, the artist I hired will come and paint the giant unicorn mural, so it must be done by tonight. Are you up to the challenge?”

They both nodded, their fists resting on their hips, paintbrushes hanging from their fingers.

“What about us, Daddy?” Mikaella asked.

“Sweet pea, you and I, we’re doing construction work.”