Five
five
SOMEBODY’S HERO - JAMIE O’NEAL
CALLIE - NOVEMBER 27, 2013
T he last few weeks since Ruby was born have been smooth. She is almost a month old and I am so excited to introduce her to Owen’s family at Thanksgiving tomorrow. His cousin Vicki is organizing everything for Owen’s mom’s side of the family. I met Vickie a couple months ago, the night I met his cousins, and I’m looking forward to seeing her again.
Owen has Barrett for Thanksgiving this year and I’m thrilled to have all three of the kids together. I’ve been tasked with picking Barrett up from Sabrina today. I’m nervous, I haven’t had many interactions with Sabrina. This will be the first time I’ve ever met her without Owen around. She seems civil enough when he is near so I’m praying that won’t change without his presence.
Owen has been working a lot. He is doing everything in his power to support us financially so I don’t have to return to work before I am ready. I’m hoping to make it at least six weeks before returning to my job at the coffee shop Brooked her shoulders appear tense beneath her oversized sweater.
She waves at Barrett as I put his bag into the backseat. I hear Ruby getting fussy and I unbuckle her carseat so I can pick her up. Cradled in my arms, swaying gently, she settles down; her tiny fist gripping my pinkie finger as we move. Sabrina’s eyes soften as she watches, and I don’t miss how she lights up when she sees the baby up close.
“She’s so sweet,” Sabrina coos.
“She really is,” I reply, smiling down at my precious girl. I glance back at Sabrina; there’s hesitation in her eyes, like she wants to say something but isn’t sure where to begin. Should I offer to let her hold Ruby, or would that be weird? We don’t actually know each other very well and I shouldn’t assume everyone wants baby snuggles. Before I talk myself out of it, I nudge Ruby towards her. “Would you like to hold her?”
Sabrina’s eyes widen slightly. For a moment, she looks as though she might say no, but then she reaches out with trembling hands to take the baby. Ruby stirs and lets out a small whimper, and Sabrina’s face lights up. She cradles Ruby close, running her thumb over her soft cheek, a smile breaking through her weariness.
“Alex and I have talked about having kids after the wedding,” she says, speaking of her fiancée. “But I don’t know if I could handle more than one. I don’t know how you do it, honestly. Barrett gives me enough trouble all on his own.”
That last part intrigues me. I never would have known that she’s had issues with him before. I suppose it’s possible that he behaves differently for his mom than he does for his dad. I know Sara gives me a harder time than she gives anyone else.
“I think you might surprise yourself,” I say after a moment. “I never thought I would be able to handle two kids under two, but it’s been okay so far.”
I want to encourage her, but I don’t want to get too deep or overstep boundaries. I want to tell her that she’s capable of more than she knows, and if I can do this, anyone can. She and Owen get along so well–much better than me and Adam–and I want to make a good impression for our first interaction.
“You have Owen to help you though. I’m not sure what Alex would be like as a new dad. I’m not sure he has the patience for it.” That statement worries me. It makes me wonder if he’s lost his patience with Barrett before. If he has, Barrett has never mentioned it and I’m certain if Owen had any inkling that things were not right, he would intervene. I might have to talk to him about that later…
“Sometimes I wonder if things are moving too fast,” she continues, her voice low, like she’s worried someone will overhear.
“I can’t say much about things moving too quickly because of how quickly things escalated between me and Owen,” I reply nervously. It feels weird talking to my boyfriend’s ex-wife about how quickly our relationship progressed after their divorce.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it awkward. I just… I can tell you from experience that if you’re not sure about getting married, you have to trust your instincts. I wish I would have.”
Sabrina gives me a faint, appreciative smile, her gaze drifts back to Ruby. “You’re right.” She pauses, her brow furrowing. Ruby’s tiny hand grasps her finger. “Sometimes, I wonder if I am just afraid of failing again.”
I study Sabrina’s expression. Vulnerability etched into her features as she cradles my daughter. It’s a side of her I’ve never seen before, and the raw moment unsettles me. I feel empathy for her. She’s not just Owen’s ex-wife; she’s Barrett’s mother. She’s a woman trying to navigate a romantic situation she’s clearly uncertain about.
“I get it,” I say, shifting my weight as I adjust the strap of the bag on my shoulder. “Fear of failing doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it again. It just means you have to learn from what didn’t work last time. That’s why we call the first one a ‘practice marriage,’” I chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood.
She smiles. I take that as a sign to continue. “Maybe, it’s about finding someone who is willing to learn alongside you, not expect you to have it all figured out.”
Sabrina looks at me like she’s contemplating whether or not her current partner fits that description. I don’t pry and I doubt she’s going to offer up that information. Regardless, I appreciate that she is taking my words to heart. It means a lot that she isn’t dismissive of what I have to say, even if I am nearly a decade younger than her and dating her ex-husband…
Perhaps this is even the start of a friendship between us…
Sabrina’s eyes meet mine, gratitude in her gaze. She nods, pressing her lips together as if she’s holding back words she isn’t ready to share. Ruby lets out a tiny sigh, her little body relaxing against Sabrina’s chest. I smile at the sight.
Her smile widens as the tension in her shoulders starts to ease. “Thank you, Callie,” she murmurs. “I needed to hear that today.”
A quiet understanding passes between us. As much as I’ve worried about this interaction, it feels like we’ve reached an unspoken truce. Maybe it’s the shared experience of parenting, or the realization that we are both doing the best we can with the cards we’ve been dealt.
“I should get going before Ruby decides she’s really awake,” I say. Sabrina hands her back carefully.
“Have a good Thanksgiving,” Sabrina says, her voice lighter now. “And tell Owen to get some rest. It sounds like he’s been burning the candle at both ends.”
I laugh, nodding as I adjust Ruby against my shoulder. “I’ll try. You know how stubborn he can be.”
She smirks, “Oh, trust me, I know. That’s why I said you have to tell him to get some rest. He listens to you. If I told him, he’d probably pick up an extra shift just to spite me.”
I laugh, “You’re probably right. Thanks for letting me stick around and chat for a bit. I don’t get much time with grown-ups these days.”
“Anytime. This was nice.”
I settle into the driver’s seat and glance at Barrett in the rearview mirror. He blows his mom a goodbye kiss before we drive away. When he turns back around, his small face is thoughtful with his brows furrowed slightly.
“Callie?” he asks quietly, his voice uncertain. “Is my mommy okay?”
The question catches me off guard and brings tears to my eyes. I pause for a moment, unsure how to respond. I don’t want him to worry, but I also don’t want to dismiss his concerns. I glance back at the rearview mirror where Sabrina still stands on the porch, her arms wrapped tightly around herself with her oversized sweater hanging loosely off one shoulder.
“I think so, buddy,” I answer, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Why do you ask?”
“She seemed kinda sad,” he mumbles, twiddling his thumbs.
My heart tightens; I take a steadying breath before replying. “I think she’s just really tired. Being a grown-up can be hard sometimes, and she has a lot on her mind, but that doesn’t mean something is wrong. Your mommy is very strong, and she loves you so much.”
Barrett’s face brightens with a proud smile. “My mommy’s a superhero!” he declares with a child’s confidence.
“She sure is, kiddo,” I reply laughing, his enthusiasm lifting the weight of the moment.
He glances at me, eyes wide with sincerity. “I think you and my dad are superheroes too,” he adds.
The warmth of his words washes over me, and I swipe away the tear sliding down my cheek. The last thing I want is for him to see me cry and think I’m upset. “Thank you, Barrett,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. He tilts his head, considering something for a moment.
“Do you think Alex is a superhero too?” he asks, his tone more curious than certain.
I choose my words carefully, diplomatically. “I suppose he could be,” I reply.
Barrett scrunches his nose, the wheels in his little head clearly turning. “I don’t know…” he muses, tapping his chin dramatically. “I think only parents can be superheroes.”
I can’t help but laugh at his declaration, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. “Oh yeah? And what makes a parent a superhero?”
A cheeky grin lights up his face. “They take care of their kids, even when it’s hard. Like you and Dad and Mommy do.”
His words hit me square in the chest. and I’m at a complete loss. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?” I manage, my voice soft but steady.
Barrett beams, clearly pleased with himself. “That’s because I have superheroes teaching me,” he says matter-of-factly.
His words linger in the air as we drive, filling the car with a warmth I hadn’t realized I needed. Barrett’s simple, heartfelt observation feels like a tiny reprieve from the chaos. I glance at him again in the rearview mirror, watching him shift his attention to the window, humming a tune under his breath.
“Superheroes teaching you, huh?” I tease. “Well, you’re doing a pretty great job learning.”
He giggles his little infectious laugh. “That’s because I’m going to be a superhero too one day,” he says with absolute certainty.
“Is that so?” I play along. “What kind of superhero are you going to be?”
Barrett thinks for a moment , his serious expression both adorable and earnest. “The kind who helps people and makes sure everyone is okay,” he decides with a firm nod. Pride swells my chest, and I feel a lump rise in my throat. “That sounds like the best kind of superhero, Barrett. The world could definitely use more of those.”
He smiles again, satisfied with his answer, and leans back in his seat. “Do you think Sara and Ruby will be superheroes, too?” he asks, peeking over at the girls. He has already referred to them as his sisters.
“Absolutely,” I say with no hesitation. “They’ve already got you, the very best superhero, to show them how it’s done.”
The car falls into a peaceful silence, the hum of the tires on the road filling the space. I glance back at Ruby and Sara, both still sound asleep, a sense of calm settles over me.For all the challenges, these little moments with these incredible kids make everything worth it. Barrett’s belief in us as superheroes might be simple childhood logic, but it feels profound in its own way. He sees the best in all of us, even when we don’t see it in ourselves.
I glance at him again in the mirror as we approach home. “You know, Barrett,” I begin, “if being a superhero means helping people and making sure everyone is okay, then I think you already are one.”
His eyes light up. He sits up straighter and puffs out his chest with pride. “Really?”
“Really,” I confirm. “And I’m so proud of you.”
Barrett’s smile stretches wide across his face, and he settles back in his seat, content. I turn my attention back to the road, my own heart feeling lighter than it has in weeks. Sometimes, the wisdom of a child is all it takes to remind us that even in the hardest moments, we’re doing okay.
I’ve never been a huge fan of Thanksgiving. Growing up, it always felt like more of an obligation than a celebration. I don’t remember a single time when I enjoyed the holiday as a kid. Religious and political arguments followed by too many variations of green bean casserole usually leaves little to be desired, but this year is different. .
I love the idea of celebrating my first holiday season with Owen and Barrett. I don’t, however, love the idea of visiting three different families in one day, or seeing Owen’s father Henry who was rude to me the first time I met him. I know how much Owen loves the holidays, so I’m determined to make the most of it. He offered to forgo celebrating with his father, but I’m not one to back down from a bully, nor would I keep Owen from his family on a holiday, so I insisted we make a stop. I assured Owen that if Henry spoke to me sideways, I would not hold my tongue.
Getting the kids ready this morning was a challenge. Barrett is ecstatic that our first stop is at my mom’s house. Every time he sees my stepdad Wayne, he leaves with something special, like a dollar bill or a fun necktie. Sure enough, the moment we arrived at the Van Damme Hawkridge Estate, Wayne had his dollar bill at the ready and Barrett was chomping at the bit to have it. Owen had to remind him to mind his manners. I might have to have a talk with Wayne about buying the children’s affection…
Lunch is a blur of passing plates, clinking silverware, and my mother being completely over-the-top. She wants to make sure everything is perfect. Sometimes I wish she would just live in the moment instead of trying to control everything, but her heart is in the right place.
After lunch, we clear the table for dessert. I’m sure it’s a decision I’m going to regret later but I’m wearing leggings today so my pants aren’t going to fight me on it. Breastfeeding makes me hungrier than I was when I was pregnant, I swear. My sister Taylor joins me in the kitchen while I plate pie for Owen and the kids. She has already snatched the can of whipped cream from my niece Ava. Things like that are always funny when it’s not your own kid. It’s only a matter of time before Sara is up to those kinds of shenanigans. She loves doing anything her big cousin does.
I’m surprised my mom didn’t lose her mind chasing after Ava and ranting about the extra calories my five-year-old niece was consuming. Then again, she’s the one who bought all the pies and whipped cream, so maybe she’s changed her ways since Taylor and I were kids.
I raise an eyebrow at Taylor. “Is it just me, or is Mom suspiciously calm about Ava eating so much sugar today?”
Taylor meets my gaze, her expression skeptical. “Yeah, it’s weird. If that were us, she’d give us a full-blown lecture about counting calories.”
“Apparently it’s easier being Rita’s granddaughter than her daughter,” I quip.
“Thank God for that,” she snorts, adding a second piece of pie to her plate out of spite. I burst into laughter and nearly fumble one of the many plates I’m balancing. Owen swoops in from nowhere, steadies my arm and catches the plate before anything crashes to the floor.
I blink up at him. “How do you always swoop in at the perfect time?”
Owen chuckles, setting the plate safely back on the counter. “It’s more like I’ve accepted that between you refusing to ask for help and being a clutz, messes are bound to be made.”
I narrow my eyes at him in mock offense. “I am not that bad!”
“Dollface, I love you. So much. But you’re kind of a human wrecking ball.”
Right on cue, Ava, who has apparently been scoping out the dessert counter again trying to snatch the whipped cream, starts singing the recently popular Miley Cyrus song at the top of her lungs. Taylor groans and points to a chair at the table where Ava was supposed to sit down already.
“This is your fault,” Taylor mutters, pointing at Owen.
Without missing a beat, Ava grabs the whipped cream can and proceeds to use it as a microphone to finish her performance as if she’s auditioning to be on the next Kidz Bop CD.
By the time we wrangle the kids into their coats and say our goodbyes, I feel the familiar exhaustion creep in. I muster the energy to continue as I watch Barrett, wearing a new necktie covered in UFOs beaming up cows, stuff a crisp dollar bill into his pocket. As we head to Owen’s grandparents’ house, I steal a glance at him and hear the faintest hum to the tune of Wrecking Ball coming from his lips.