Chapter 16
Celine
This neighborhood had to be the number one trick-or-treat destination in this town.
The street was lined with impeccably maintained homes, each with a large, shiny SUV in the driveway.
And the party was impossible to miss.
The moment I turned onto the road, the pirate flags strung between the trees and the black and white sails fluttering cheerfully were visible. A hand-painted sign on the mailbox read Ahoy! Jacob’s 7th Birthday, with an arrow pointing to the backyard.
The house was enormous, with white siding and a wraparound porch. Like all the homes around it, the plump shrubs and flowering bushes in the yard were perfectly manicured. It was the kind of house that was built for big family Christmases and tearful graduation photos.
The backyard was huge and had been transformed into a full-blown pirate fantasy. Cardboard ships, rope nets, kiddie pools, and a bounce house.
As we approached, a lump formed in my throat.
Julian tugged my hand. “Look!” He pointed, practically vibrating with excitement. “This is the coolest.”
“I see it, buddy,” I croaked.
Kids ran wild in costumes, dressed as tiny pirates with foam swords and eye patches. Vests and tricorner hats. One kid had a full captain’s coat that looked expensive.
Julian was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Despite the details on the invitation suggesting guests dress in pirate theme, our dress-up box was in storage, and I wasn’t in a position to buy a costume.
The familiar creeping nausea hit me instantly, accompanied by the quiet voice that was so good at reminding me that I should have done more. That I wasn’t enough. I should have planned better, found a costume, hired a sitter. Figured out a way to be two people at once.
A cheerful woman in a pirate hat waved us over. “You must be Julian.” Assuming she was Jacob’s mom, I strode toward her. She was a smiling, bubbly blond woman, her demeanor kind and effortless, like she’d been dressed by tiny birds this morning.
“Yes,” I said quickly, sticking out my hand. “I’m Celine.”
“Sara.”
“And, um, I’m so sorry.” Heart in my throat, I gestured to the girls behind me. “I had to bring my two big kids. Single mom.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. As always, I was offering an apology no one had asked for.
“Of course,” Sara said, her smile only growing. “Join the party, girls. We’ve got plenty of pizza, and if you’re up for a challenge, I could use help keeping these kids in line during the scavenger hunt.”
Maggie lit up. Ellie, on the other hand, only nodded, her hands stuffed into the front pocket of her hoodie, scanning the yard for the best escape route.
Jacob, a boy I’d met a few times at school, ran over, grinning as widely as his mother had been. “Julian!”
Julian beamed, looking happier than I’d ever seen him.
And relief hit me. This was why we were here. Because my baby deserved friends. Deserved belonging and birthday parties.
He peeked up at me, seeking permission, and when I nodded, he took off after his friend, an eager golden retriever hot on their heels. I clutched the bag that contained Julian’s headphones and snacks, since he was unlikely to eat novel food at a party, mentally psyching myself up.
Parents, mostly couples and most I’d seen in the carpool line yet had never met, were clustered in small groups near the picnic tables, coffee cups in hand, laughing and chatting.
As a few glanced over, smiling and waving, a kernel of anticipation joined the unease that wouldn’t die down completely.
“We’re fine, Mom.” Ellie leaned in, her arm brushing mine. With a concerned look on her face, she pried the gift bag out of my hand and took it to the folding table already overflowing with presents.
My chest was still tight, but I soldiered on. Julian was on cloud nine, the girls were doing okay. And no one here had even given me an unkind look.
Yet it still felt like I was standing outside the circle. Realizing these people were living lives I no longer had.
Or maybe never had in the first place, which was an even more depressing thought.
Exhaling, I pushed the negativity away. Then I forced a smile, straightened my shoulders, and followed Julian into the chaos. I would make this the best possible experience for him.
Because that’s all I could do. Show up.
Sara and her husband Will sure knew how to throw a great party.
They’d set up craft stations, a pirate-themed ice cream bar, and a scavenger hunt that had probably taken weeks to plan.
Despite my reservations, I found myself having a nice time pretty quickly.
I met several of the parents, chatted about school, and learned way more than I’d ever want to know about youth sports in this town.
While the kids sat at a long table for cake and juice boxes, Julian joined them. He may have been eating the sliced cucumbers I’d packed instead of cake, but this was still a major milestone, and no one even mentioned the choice in snack.
Both girls had jumped in to help distribute cake and refill drinks, and Maggie had guided the kids at the treasure-chest decorating station with enthusiasm and kindness.
Every time I sought them out, my eyes would heat. I was proud of them and the love they had for their little brother.
“We’re gonna win this year,” a little voice said.
“Nope,” Jacob responded. “Me and my dad are. We’ve got a plan. I’m finally big enough to canoe with him, so we’re gonna win.”
He beamed at his father, who gave him a thumbs-up.
Julian’s lips turned down in confusion.
“Are you talking about the pumpkin race?” a little girl across from him asked.
“Yeah. You’re supposed to do it with your dad,” Jacob said.
Julian’s face fell, and not far behind him, Ellie shot me a look.
Sara leaned in, probably sensing my confusion. “The Harvest Festival is in two weeks.”
That I knew. Josh and I were still finishing the hayride plan.
“The big event is a canoe race,” she added. “But the canoes have to be built out of a giant pumpkin or gourd.”
“Oh.” I pressed my lips together. That was so fucking Maplewood.
“It’s a big to-do every year. Will always goes way overboard, and this year Jacob is going to paddle with him. It will be so cute.”
I nodded, keeping my face neutral, my focus fixed on Julian.
With a look of distress, he glanced at one kid after another as they talked about the boats they were building.
On our way home, I ran through scenarios that might allow me to acquire a giant pumpkin, make it seaworthy, and train my scrawny arms to paddle fast enough to win that race for him.
None of them were rational. But at moments like these, all I wanted was to make my kids happy.
Be two parents at once so they never had to feel like they were missing anything.
As I lay in bed next to Julian that night, stroking his hair after we reread his favorite book, The Day The Crayons Quit three times, he looked up at me, his little face drawn.
“Mama,” he said softly.
My eyelids were heavy, but I still needed to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer and run the dishwasher before I could close them.
“I wish I had a dad.”
The words were a gut punch. I’d known they were coming, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Not my dad,” he whispered, fiddling with the collar of my T-shirt, his attention fixed there. “I don’t miss him.”
I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut again, deciding to let him say whatever he needed to say.
“I’m sposed to.” He curled up against my chest. “But I don’t miss him. He was mean and scared me, and I like it here without him.”
Gently rubbing his back, I kissed his forehead, my heart cracking. “That’s okay, buddy. You can feel however you want. Your dad made some bad choices. And you don’t have to miss someone who hurt you and let you down.”
He pursed his lips, thoughtful, then added, “But I want a real dad. Like Jacob has.”
“They seem like a very nice family,” I said diplomatically, even as my eyes welled.
Though it only took five seconds to lose composure, the tears falling freely. God, I wasn’t supposed to do this in front of my kids.
Julian hugged me tight. I held him just as firmly as footsteps sounded down the hall.
Then both girls were jumping into the bed next Julian.
“Mama’s sad,” he said.
Two more sets of arms surrounded me.
“Mom, you’re amazing,” Maggie said.
I inhaled, trying to compose myself, not willing to drag my kids into my shame spiral.
Ellie hummed. “And we can be both sad that Dad turned out to be terrible and also really happy that we have each other.”
“Yeah,” Maggie added. “And we can be happy that because he sucked, we get to live in a cool house in a cool town.”
“On a farm!” Julian added.
Warmth bloomed inside me at their positivity.
“You taught us that we can feel multiple feelings at once. Don’t forget that,” Ellie said, wise beyond her years. “And our family may look different, but we’re super awesome.”
I hugged them all, my little hive, and took a few deep breaths. A strange mix of pride, grief, and uncertainty mingled inside me. Things were looking up.
Even so, forward progress was never linear, and my kids deserved to grieve their dad.
I’d done the right thing.
Now I had to keep going. Even when my heart was breaking for all they’d lost.