2. Summer
CHAPTER 2
Summer
M y first week as a solo parent flies by. Between work and the daily routine of school, gymnastics, dinner, and bedtime, I am so exhausted that I fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow. I don’t even have time to escape into my romance books. Being a single parent has rocked me in ways I wasn’t prepared for. Jared may have made for a shitty partner, but he has always been a good dad. We split the parenting duties in a well-coordinated dance that we perfected over the years. I hate to admit it, but doing this without him is hard.
It’s Friday night, Emma is in bed, and I finally have a chance to sink into the couch with a book. I toss my checkered throw blanket over my lap and crack open my new billionaire romance. Sipping on my glass of wine, I get through almost half of the story before my eyes are too heavy to continue. By the time Gabi tells Lucas that she won’t be coming with him on their “business trip” to Europe, I realize it’s almost midnight and I need to get to bed.
I rinse my wine glass in the sink before going down the hall. On the way, I peek into Emma’s room to make sure she’s still sleeping. It’s a habit I think I’ll have until she moves out. I head down to my bedroom and set my book on my nightstand. I can never be too careful with where I keep my spiciest books now that Emma has advanced beyond the beginning stages of reading.
I change into comfy pajamas and brush my teeth in the harsh overhead light of the bathroom, contemplating the book I’m reading. Lucas is a big fan of grand gestures. Giant bouquets dropped off on Gabi’s doorstep, buying her the expensive coat she was eyeing when they went shopping together, and a loosely-disguised business trip to Europe, just because she said she’d never been.
My heart swoons at the thoughtfulness of it all. It breaks a little, too. I never expected Jared to do anything like that, but I just wanted him to show he cared about me. I wanted him to shoot me a text when he was at work to tell me he loved me, or maybe pick up my favorite candy when he was at the convenience store, or take me out on a date every once in a while.
When Emma was a baby and I was at home with her, I started reading to pass the time. I quickly discovered romance was my favorite genre. They were sweet, easy to read, ended happily, and provided a reprieve from the daily grind of motherhood.
At first, I would roll my eyes as the hero went above and beyond for his love interest, thinking that no man would do such things. Once men had you, I reasoned, they grew content and stopped trying. I thought I was okay with that. I thought I was “in the know”, like the rest of the women before me who had settled for what their partner was willing to give. But the more I read, the more I started to realize that I deserved passion and to feel valued. While I never expected Jared to pull the same stunts as the men in my books, I wanted more than just the promise of love on the tip of his tongue while his eyes looked past me.
When I started bringing it up to him, he insisted that his words should be enough. That he shouldn’t have to prove himself.
Over the last few years, it's been a constant back and forth. I would try to encourage Jared to do things with me. I offered things like going on a date or finding video games we could play together. He would go along with it for a week or two, and I’d think things were getting better. Then, he’d fall back into his old routine, playing video games with Duncan every night after Emma went to bed, forgetting to kiss me goodbye in the mornings, and being too tired for sex. So the cycle would continue.
At some point, he started to pay attention to what I was reading and that’s when the arguments really took off.
“‘Love Me Like You Hate Me.’ Summer, what is this?” He bursts into our bedroom and holds up one of my latest romance purchases like it’s covered in filth. I feel my cheeks redden as I snap my eyes up from my aimless scrolling.
“It’s a book, Jared. You know I like to read.”
“Yeah, but it’s so trashy! I skimmed through it and I can’t believe you read this junk.” He scrunches his nose and tosses the book on the bed towards me. “Is this why you’ve been all over me lately?” He’s going for teasing, but the disapproval rolls off him in toxic waves.
I turn even more red, wishing the bed would open up and swallow me whole. I try to think of a way to explain myself, finally saying, “It’s not just the sex that draws me to them, you know. It’s the romance of it. Not all of the books I read have so much sex in them. Most of them are really sweet, and the focus is on falling in love. They both do everything they can to be together and prove that they love each other.”
“What, our life isn’t good enough? Our sex life isn’t good enough? Do you have to read about fake couples to be happy? You read all the time, every day. Any spare moment. Are you really trying to escape our life that badly?” He sits on the corner of the bed and faces me, his arms crossed over his chest.
I look down and pick at the pilling comforter. “It’s not that our life is bad, it’s just that… I don’t know Jared. We’re only twenty-one for fuck’s sake and we already act like an old married couple. When’s the last time we had sex or even went on a date?”I finally look up to meet his eyes, hoping he sees that I’m not trying to hurt him.
“We have Emma! It’s not like we can go out every night with a two-year-old running around,” he argues.
“I’m not asking for every night, but even just once a month would be nice. We could have your mom watch her for us, and we could go out for dinner or a movie.”
“We can do that. Why is it my fault that we don’t?” he retorts.
I sigh. “It’s not just your fault. We both should be doing more. But you can’t play video games every single night when we could be spending time together and expect me to be happy with that. I wouldn’t mind if it was a few nights a week, but I feel like you don’t even want to spend time with me.” I feel tears well up in my eyes and my nose burns. I just want to feel desired.
He comes to sit beside me and wraps an arm around me, squeezing me to his side. “I do want to spend time with you. I’m sorry. I’ll make more of an effort. I just got caught up in the new game with Duncan lately. Why don’t I call my mom tomorrow and ask if she can watch Emma for us on Friday night? We can go get dinner and a movie.” He kisses my temple and continues, “But, Summer, you can’t compare me to those guys in your books. They aren’t real. I doubt there’s a single guy alive who acts the way they do. You know I love you. You shouldn’t need some big gesture to tell you that.”
I nod because at least we’ll be going out on a date this week. Maybe things will get better. Maybe he’s right and I need to let this go.
They did get better. For a week or two, Jared would text me that he loved me out of the blue, bring me home flowers, and we went on a date ending in mild-mannered sex that only left one of us satisfied. Then, once he felt he had done enough, he was back to his old routine. Wash, rinse, repeat.
I get into bed, turning off the bedside lamp as I do. As I stare at the ceiling, dappled with silvery light from the full moon, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake. Maybe Jared was right. Maybe no one will ever love me the way I want to be loved. Maybe I should have just been happy with what he offered. I roll over and try to banish the thought.
Late Sunday morning, Jared comes by to get Emma. I spent the morning helping her pack her sparkly gymnastics bag with all the necessities for a week spent with her dad. I know he got her the basics, so she wouldn’t have to cart her entire life back and forth. But a week’s worth of clothes, toys, gymnastics gear, and her favorite teddy have the bag stuffed to the brim. I had to have Emma sit on it just so I could zip it shut.
Jared slings the bag over his shoulder and carries it out to his truck. I pull Emma in for a hug and kiss the top of her head. I look up and blink to diffuse the tears that are threatening to spill. This will be the longest I’ve ever been away from my daughter. I never wanted her to go through this. I never wanted to have to be without her. “Mommy, why are your eyes shiny?” Emma looks up at me, concern marring her little brows.
“I’m just sad because I’m going to miss you, sweet girl. You’re going to have such a good time with your dad though, okay? Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.” I squeeze her for emphasis.
“Are you sure? Maybe Daddy and I can stay here with you so you won’t be lonely.” She pouts, trying the same tactic that she uses with her dad.
I laugh at her obvious attempt at emotional warfare. “No, Emma. There’s no need for that. Your dad has his own place and this is mine. You’re so lucky because you get both!”
“Why can’t we all have the same house anymore?”
“Because, baby girl. Daddy and I have decided that this is what’s best for our family. You’ll see. It’s going to be even better than before.” I stroke my hand down her long, tangled ponytail.
“If you say so.” She sighs, giving me one last squeeze before she lets go. “Are you going to call me every night like Daddy does?”
We’ve already been over this, but I can tell she needs the extra reassurance. I’ll do anything I can to make her more comfortable with all of this. Even if it means repeating myself a thousand times. “Of course! Eight on the dot. You and I will have dinner on Wednesday, too.” I help her into her daisy-printed jacket and zip the front up. She can do it herself, but I feel a desperate need to make her feel taken care of.
“Okay, bye Mommy. I love you.” Her chin trembles and it takes everything in me not to demand she stay with me. Not to throw my hands up and give in, welcoming Jared back. I roll my head to the side, popping the tension from my neck. I want to be an example for my daughter. I want to show her that it’s okay to have standards for how you want to be treated. And that it’s okay to walk away if they aren’t met.
I smile and say, “I love you too, baby girl. I’ll talk to you tonight.”
She heads to Jared’s truck where he’s waiting to help her into her booster seat. I follow her out so I can say hello and goodbye to Jared. We’ve been doing a really good job of being civil and even friendly the last week. I don’t want to be the one to ruin it. “Hey, Jared.” I lean against the bed of the truck and shove my hands in the pockets of my sweats .
“Hey, Sunshine,” he says with a boyish grin, the likes of which made me swoon as a teen. I roll my eyes at the old nickname. He knows I hate nicknames between couples. Anything more than “babe” or “honey” makes me wrinkle my nose. Ask me how I feel when I read my romance books.
“Jare-bear,” I retort in a syrupy-sweet voice. His laugh booms from him in a way I haven’t heard in a long time. I laugh too. There’s an ease between us now that hasn’t been there in years. When there’s no pretense of a relationship, we get on well. I feel the anxiety that had been winding tighter in my stomach loosen. This is what I want for Emma. Amicable, friendly parents. We can do this. I can do this.
“I’ll talk to you tonight, Sunshine,” he says in farewell, shooting me a wink before touching my shoulder. He rounds the hood to the driver's side and I take a few steps back.
“Talk then,” I say with a wave as I head back up the driveway to my little home. It’s in a nice neighborhood on the outskirts of town. Definitely one of the smaller homes, but it works well for Emma and me. It also worked well for my mom and me, when it was just the two of us.
My heart aches a little at the thought of my mom and the way I’m inadvertently following in her footsteps. I was so dead set against separation for years because I was scared the act of it would turn Jared and I into my parents.
The melancholy grows as I realize that for the first time in my life I’ll be alone for more than a day or two at a time. I went straight from living with my mom to living with Jared and Emma. I’ve never really been alone. I can’t say I love the prospect.
It’s late and I’m reading on the couch again to distract myself from the loneliness when I feel something cold drip on the top of my head. I look up in confusion. As I stare up at the old water stain on the ceiling trying to figure out if I imagined something falling on my head, another fat droplet hits me square in the eye. “Ah!” I exclaim, standing quickly and wiping at my eye.
“I swear, if I get pink eye I’m going to kill Jared,” I grumble to myself while I scurry to the kitchen to grab a large bowl. I push the couch out of the way and place the bowl directly under where the drip nearly took my eye out.
Tonight is the first time it’s rained in a while, and of course, it’s supposed to pour for the next few days. The last time we had a storm like this, it leaked in the same spot. Jared told me he would fix it; it hasn’t rained since then, so I assumed he had taken care of it. California isn’t exactly known for rain, so it’s been a while since our last storm.
I look at the clock and see that it’s just about eight, so I pull out my phone to give him a call. “Hello,” he answers after a couple of rings. I can hear Emma splashing in the tub in the background.
“Hey, Jared. I know I’m calling a bit early, but I needed to talk to you before I talk to Emma.”
“Oh, sure,” he says with trepidation, “What’s up?” The sounds of Emma’s splashing dims as he moves away from the tub.
“Well, the roof is leaking again. Same spot.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. So, listen, did you ever try to fix it?” I ask.
“I meant to look at it sooner. Sorry. With us—with everything going on, I just forgot. Hold on, I was going to call a local contractor to take a look. My coworker, Ben, gave me this guy’s card after he and his wife redid their bathroom. I think it's still in my wallet. I’ll take a picture of it and send it to you.” Rustling invades the quiet as I can hear him pulling out his wallet and shuffling through the contents. Within a minute my phone vibrates with the picture.
“Okay, thanks. Don’t worry about it. If I get pink eye though, you’re footing the bill. ”
“Pink eye?” he asks, confused.
“Never mind,” I laugh, “Listen, is Emma done with her bath yet? I’ll say goodnight if she is.”
“Yeah, she’s just getting out now. I’ll let you FaceTime her while she finishes getting ready.” He video chats me, and I spend the next fifteen minutes hanging with my daughter as she brushes her teeth and gets comfy in bed. Despite the motion sickness that comes along with a six year old handling a video call, my heart aches so hard, I have to rub the spot to ease it.