Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AINSLEY
I scanned the park, buzzing with parents and children as I watched for my kids to make an appearance. I was still uneasy with the idea of them spending their afternoons at the park with friends while we were at work—this was only the second summer I’d allowed them to do so—but I was working on giving them each more freedom as long as they earned it. This kind of freedom, this kind of respect, it would’ve meant the world to me as a child.
Still, that didn’t stop me from worriedly searching the crowd for their features when I was supposed to pick them up.
Maisy’s wavy brown hair.
Riley’s playful smile and thinning frame.
It never got old—seeing them there. Seeing them happy. With their friends. Playing. Searching for me.
It would be my last summer of picking the three of them up together. Next year, Dylan would be driving. He’d be able to take them and drop them off, as well as bring them home.
It seemed impossible to me, he’d be fifteen next month. Some days, I caught myself thinking of him as the little boy with skinned-up knees and mussy hair.
Although, most days, he still had mussy hair.
It was all going by so fast, and I knew once he turned sixteen, the years would go even faster. How were we down to so few milestones left? So few holidays and birthdays?
We were running out of time all around, and that never failed to take my breath away when I contemplated it.
Where had the time gone?
Even with the time we had left, it seemed like they were too busy to cherish any of it.
I didn’t want to take their childhood from them. I wanted them to enjoy it while it lasted, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting.
When they were little, I’d once dreamed of the day I’d accept the management position, because it would mean I could set my own schedule—leaving when I needed to in order to pick up the kids or spend time with them. As a teller, and then as a banker, there were so many times they’d needed me to pick them up from school or attend an event, and due to my work schedule, I hadn’t been able to.
It was the cruelest irony that now that I could set my own schedule and show up for them when they needed me, they hardly ever needed me .
The phone buzzed and I glanced down at the screen, spying Glennon’s name.
“Hello?”
“Hey, love. What are you up to?”
“Oh, just picking up the kids from the park. How’s the trip going?”
“Really well,” she said, dragging out the words. “It’s beautiful out here. Seth was right, these mountains are nothing like what we have back home.”
“Well, don’t get any funny ideas about packing up and moving to Colorado. I’d miss you too much.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” The warmth of her voice reminded me of how much I missed her. After their divorce, she and Seth had reconciled almost immediately. It was the most amicable divorce in history, as far as I was concerned. Then again, I guessed when feelings weren’t involved, it did make things easier.
From time to time, I found myself longing for Peter and me to learn how they’d managed it.
Now, Glennon and Seth had moved back in together—strictly as best friends and roommates—and as far as I could tell, they hadn’t missed a beat.
When I’d expressed concern over the arrangement, worrying it might cause one of them to get hurt, Glennon assured me my fears were unfounded. They’d simply spent so much time together neither of them could bear the thought of being apart.
“Well, good,” I said. “Are you at the hotel, then?”
“Not yet. We stopped for a bite to eat before Seth’s meeting this evening. We’ll check in, in just a few hours. I just wanted to call and see how Maisy’s recital went. ”
“Her recit…” I trailed off, my stomach dropping. How could I have forgotten? I checked the date on my phone.
Yesterday.
Her recital was yesterday, the tenth, same as it had been every year since she was four. She’d been out with Bailey yesterday. Had they gone to the recital without me? Had she been expecting me to be there and I’d missed it? Why hadn’t she mentioned it? Why hadn’t I caught it? I placed my head on my steering wheel, my body filling with a cold dread.
No wonder she’d hardly spoken to me this morning…
“Glen, I forgot.”
“Forgot?” she asked, as shocked as I was.
“I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid. She was out with friends last night, or at least, that’s what I thought, and I just… I don’t know. I spaced. What do I do? How do I tell her how sorry I am? She must hate me.”
“Okay…” She was the voice of reason carrying across the line, her tone soothing. “Just breathe, okay? She doesn’t hate you. She could never hate you. It was an honest mistake. You just need to talk to her. Ask her how it went. Make sure she knows you didn’t plan to miss it.”
I thought back over the past few months, trying to recall the last time I’d attended a practice with her, but failing.
Once, I’d been there every Thursday night without fail, but when her friends started joining her team, there’d been carpools and changes of plans, and eventually, I’d been traded out for the dance moms whose entire lives revolved around their children’s dance careers. Somehow, until that moment, I’d never realized it .
That’s how it happens, isn’t it?
It’s one tiny change of plan. The first time your child doesn’t want you to hold them. The last time they ask you to play with them.
Just baby steps and minuscule differences, and we all just assume it’s a hiccup…that things will go back to the way things have been if we just keep on trying. Keep believing. Keep assuming things are normal.
But they aren’t because there is no normal.
Normal doesn’t exist and it never has.
There are just these periods where things feel safe and calm, and then, long before we’re ready, everything’s torn apart and we call it change.
We look back at our lives and wonder when it all changed, but the truth is…the better question is, when didn’t it?
Because we’re always changing. Life is always changing.
It’s the rarer moments where things are still.
“I’ve gotta go,” I said, spying Maisy’s head peering through the crowd. She had one hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sun when she caught sight of me. “She’s coming over now.”
“It’s going to be okay. Promise. Love you.”
“Love you,” I said, ending the call as Maisy pulled open the door and climbed inside.
I prayed she wouldn’t notice the tears in my eyes as I said, “Hey, baby.”
Her brows furrowed, caught off guard by the warm, unfamiliar greeting. Her cheeks were bright red from the sun and the heat .
“Um, hey…”
“Where are your brothers?”
“Somewhere.” She waved her hand casually over her shoulder, not meeting my eyes. “I told them to come on.”
“Maise, I wanted to talk to you…”
“About what?” She’d already pulled out a book from her bag, one by Margaret Peterson Haddix, and opened it to the place she had marked.
“About last night.”
“What was last night?” Now I had her attention.
“Your recital,” I played along. “Honey, I’m so sorry I forgot about it. I don’t have any excuse. It just slipped my mind… You know I would’ve been there no matter what if I’d remembered. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Her brows drew down again, her head cocked to the side, then her expression smoothed, her mouth dropping open. “Oh, no. Mom, it’s fine. I didn’t have a recital last night.”
“You didn’t?” Relief filled me, replaced quickly with confusion. “What do you mean? Why didn’t you? Did they reschedule it?” To my knowledge, they’d never rescheduled a summer recital.
“No,” she said calmly. “I’m sure they had it, I just didn’t dance.”
“But why not?”
The door to the car opened and Riley climbed inside. I smiled at him, then turned my attention back to Maisy, who still hadn’t answered me. “Why didn’t you dance?”
“You’re dancing again?” Riley asked, buckling himself in with a bag of chips held between his teeth .
Maisy cast a sideways glance at him as I processed what was happening.
“ Again? What do you mean? Did you stop dancing?”
Riley’s cheeks flushed bright red as he looked between us. “She didn’t know?”
The door opened again and Dylan climbed inside, oblivious to the tension. He swiped the bag of chips from Riley. “Didn’t know what? What’s going on?”
“Hey, give those back!” Riley whined, trying to take the chips back from his brother.
“Maisy?” I called over the commotion.
She opened her book, not bothering to look at me. “It’s nothing, Mom. Please don’t make a big deal about it. I just don’t want to dance anymore.”
“Since when?”
“Can you turn up the air?” Dylan asked. “It’s a million degrees in here.”
I wasn’t listening. “You can’t just stop showing up to practice and recitals, Maise. Your team is counting on you.”
“You’re dancing again?” Dylan asked, making it clear I was the only one out of the loop.
“No,” she told him, then looked at me. “It’s fine. I didn’t just stop showing up. I told Coach last year I wasn’t going to come back. I didn’t dance in the fall or spring, either. I thought you knew.”
“Why didn’t anyone call me? Why didn’t you tell me? Does your dad know? Why are we still paying for your lessons?”
“Mom, the air!” Dylan panted, fanning himself.
“You aren’t. I never asked for the money after last summer and neither of you have been taking me to lessons, so I thought you’d gotten the hint. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. Are you mad?”
I shook my head. How had I missed something so important. I felt two feet tall. “Of course I’m not mad, sweetheart. Of course not. I’m…surprised. I thought you loved dance.”
Tired of waiting for me, Dylan unbuckled, leaning past me and cranking the air up to full blast.
“I did love it, I guess. But I’m not into it anymore.”
I turned the air down a bit, trying to hear her better. “Why not? What about your friends? Are they still doing it?”
“No, we all quit. Bailey quit in the middle of the season last year, but Jennessa and I stuck it out until the recital.”
I shook my head, huffing out a breath. How had I missed so much? Why hadn’t anyone told me? How many times had I talked to her friends’ parents and no one mentioned it to me? Why? Did they think I knew? Were they trying to hide it from me? All of them?
“Do you have a drink, Mom?” Riley asked, his mouth full of chips. I passed him my bottle of water from the cup holder. “Thanks.”
“So you haven’t told your father?”
“You guys have been busy. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Busy? What do you mean?”
She looked down, glancing at her brothers, who each shrugged one shoulder, their mouths full of chips. “You guys seem stressed lately.”
“We aren’t stressed,” I lied through my teeth. “We’re fine. Why would you say that? ”
“You’re acting the way Bailey’s parents did before they got divorced. All quiet and…weird.”
My heart plummeted to my stomach, the guilt weighing on me. I’d thought we’d hidden our problems so well, but apparently not.
Simply not fighting in front of our children hadn’t been enough to convince them things were going smoothly.
“Is that what you all think?”
Hesitantly, all three heads began to nod.
I puffed out another breath. “You guys, we aren’t getting a divorce. And we’re never too busy for you. Do you hear me? We’ve had a lot going on with work, but you know the family comes first. If you need something, all you have to do is come talk to us, okay?”
The begrudging nods came again.
“Your father and I love each other very much. And we both love you all more than anything in the world.” I waited. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Yeah.”
“And I love air conditioning,” Dylan said, reaching to turn it up once again. This time, I let it stay on full blast, too exhausted to argue.
Their responses told me they didn’t believe me, and I was struck by how bad of a job I’d been doing holding us all together. It was all I wanted to do—to make sure they knew how perfect and lucky we were to have each other—but I’d apparently failed in every way.
That had to change.
This was exactly why we needed a weekend away together at the lake house. I’d spent so long feeling like my kids were pulling away from me, but now I realized maybe they’d been feeling the same way.
Did they think I was pulling away from them ?
Was I?
Perhaps the guilt over all we’d done had driven me from them, but now that I knew the issue, I could fix it.
I was a fixer, after all.