Chapter Nine
Alisha
I need to ask you a favor - can I call?
I stare down at the text Charles had sent me trying to figure out what to do now. What could he possibly want to call me for, and what kind of favor could he possibly want?
As much as I want to focus on spending time with my daughter today, I'm not sure that I can stand not knowing what this message is about.
“Give mommy just one minute, okay?” I say to Evie, who smiles and nods, still brushing her hair and getting ready for our day out.
I leave the bathroom, composing a quick message back to him as I make my way to the living room, hoping she won’t follow. Go ahead and call.
Less than thirty seconds later, my phone rings and I answer. I put the call on speaker so I won't have to hold the device to my ear as I walk back toward my bedroom. “Hello?” I say.
“Hey, Alisha.” He doesn't sound hurt or maimed, so I can't imagine the reason he’d be calling me on my day off. I really hope he's not about to ask me to work today because there's no way I'm going to break the plans I've already made with my daughter.
“What's this favor you need to ask?” I shove a hand deep into my pocket as I walk over to my bed and turn around before lowering to perch on the edge.
“A friend and his wife are expecting a baby.”
I nod my head. “Laurel, right?”
He’s quiet for a moment on the other end of the line. “Yeah, how'd you know?”
I grab my knee with one hand for balance and lean back a bit on my bed. “It's a long story, but when I met Laurel, she ran her hand over her belly, and it was just that unmistakable and pregnant gesture that women do. I promised my silence.” I smile thinking about that memory and wonder if Laurel and I could ever be friends.
“That's a cute story. You should tell it at their party.”
I inhale. “They're having a party? Like a baby shower? Am I invited?” My mind is racing a million miles a minute, my dream of being friends with Laurel surfacing, the excitement of babies bringing a smile to my lips, and the thought of spending time with other adults in a non-work-related environment leaving me worried I’ll never fit in.
He chuckles. “Yes, they're throwing a party, but it's more just an announcement for friends and family. And I’m inviting you.”
As he says the words, my heart sinks and I realize what the favor is he's asking. All the excitement for the moment drains out of me, but I'd be lying if I didn't say there was a serious heat building well in my core and making my cheeks flush. “You want me to go with you and cook for them?” I don't really understand what he's wanting from me or why he’d ask.
“I'm not asking you to work. I'm asking you to be my date; off the clock, of course.” Despite the amusement and humor in his voice, I hear something else, an undertone of concern, as if he's worried I'm going to turn him down. It's a very valid worry on his part.
I am disappointed, though, a feeling I will have to dissect later. “Thank you for asking, but I don't know that that would be good for our working relationship.” Of course, I'm lying. I have no doubts that we'd be able to maintain our professional facade, even if I went with him as his date. My biggest concern is not having a babysitter for my daughter, and I already ask so much of my mother.
“I thought that might be a response and I absolutely respect it. Thank you for hearing me out and have a lovely day.” His response is measured and sincere, though I can sense his disappointment.
“You too! See you tomorrow.” I swiftly disconnect the call and stare down at the screen until it goes dark.
“You should go.”
I nearly throw the phone across the room out of fear when my mother speaks from the doorway. My heart pounds hard in my chest and white-hot needles prickle across every inch of my skin as I try to catch my breath. “You scared the crap out of me, Ma,” I say and she laughs.
“I mean it. You should go with him.”
I glance at my phone again and give my head a shake.
“I can tell you want to go, and I can tell that he wanted you to go with him. Why are you saying no?”
I stay quiet because it's the only thing I can think of that might stop her from realizing that I need a babysitter in order to go on a date.
“I can watch Evie, if that's what you're worried about. We've been enjoying our girl time together.” She walks into my room and sits down on the bed beside me. “I think it's time you put yourself out there. Give something a try. Besides, he sounds like a good guy. I don't think I've ever heard a guy so gracefully accept being turned down.”
She's right. I don't think I've ever heard anything like that either. “Well, it's about time for Evie and me to get going, so I'm going to go see if she’s ready.”
I give Evie another squeeze as I settle her into her car seat, realizing she's on her way to outgrowing the seat. As I study her blonde curls and her bright blue eyes that are so like my own, I remember the day that I brought her home from the hospital, so tiny and cute. She'd fixed those almond-shaped blue eyes on me and watched every single step I made while I buckled her in with nervous hands. Even though she'd been tiny, she was so alert and awake while I buckled her in. The click of the belt about startled her, and her whole body had jolted. Then she'd relaxed, yawned, and gone to sleep.
I made it all the way home before she woke up. Even now, I cannot remember how afraid I was, how worried I've been that I might mess up. I wanted to be the best mother I could be because from the moment she was born, she was the best baby I could imagine. She hadn't even cried when she'd been born. They'd put her directly on my chest and she'd been silent, just staring at me with an expression that told me she couldn’t wait to get to know me... and the feeling was mutual.
I'd reached out and touched her wide-open palm, and she wrapped that little hand around my fingers so tight.
“Momma?”
I smile, trying to blink back tears about how small she’d been, how big she is now, and how she's just going to keep on growing. “I'm sorry, let me get you buckled in here so we can get going.” I che clip in the five-point harness and then make my way to the driver’s seat.
Not long after, we're on the road and she's singing along with the radio. Every once in a while, I peek back at her in the rear-view mirror, smiling at her bright face as she watches the world fly by out the windows.
I pull into the store and turn off the engine. After I unload her from her seat, she stands beside me and takes my hand. Just like that, hand in hand, we walk into the store and I savor the moment until she lets me go to run inside.
I follow her back to the clothing section and she already has a dress in hand when I get there. “Can I get this one please, please, please?” The little black dress is covered in bright yellow sunflowers and I nod my head.
“Absolutely. It's beautiful and it'll be beautiful on. How about this one?” I pick up a white dress covered with blue flowers with green stems. Her eyes light up and I add it to the cart I’d brought. She rushes over and finds a cute blue swimsuit with tiny white flowers all over it and throws a beseeching glance in my direction.
“Definitely get that,” I say, thinking about how we get her another swimsuit every year. We love to swim during the summer and it’s a tradition we repeat as often as possible. How much time will I get to swim with her this year? I can't help but worry that my work schedule is going to completely destroy our summer fun activities. How will I explain to her that mommy has to work?
Even now, the thought of breaking her little heart, making her sad, leaves me blinking back tears. I reach out and pick up a cute pair of sunglasses off the shelf, then hold them out to her. The dark frames have little rhinestones at the edge where the arms meet the frame, and she pulls them onto her face. They’re oversized and absolutely adorable and I point to the cart.
She lights up again and does a little dance as she places them in the basket. We continue wandering around looking for cute outfits and I watch her enjoy our time together. And when we’re done, we make our way to our favorite ice cream shop.
“Are you going to get your favorite ice cream?” I ask her as we wait behind the one other person in line ahead of us. She looks up at me with a smile and nods her head yes. The person in front of us takes their cone and moves out of our way, offering a smile.
Evie and I step up to the counter. “I'd like a rocky road ice cream in a waffle cone, please.” I glance down at Evie, waiting for her to order her favorite cotton candy ice cream. With all the confidence in the world, she opens her mouth and orders.
“Can I have a birthday cake and ice cream and a waffle cone?”
I study her, confused. “I thought your favorite ice cream was cotton candy.”
She smiles at me, showing a gap in her teeth where she’d lost one. “Now it's birthday cake!” The person behind the counter confirms our order and begins to get our order together. I stare down at my daughter and think about how I hadn't even known that her favorite ice cream had changed.
All this does is solidify my fear that I’m gone too much, that I’m missing out on little moments, and it makes me feel like a bad mom. And as she smiles, I stare down at her, tracing every contour of her face and committing the details to memory so that I won't forget this moment.
Our time together is so very limited that I may need to enjoy it twice as hard because now I get half as many. The best part of my existence was the gift of this wonderful little girl, and the cruelest part is losing time with her to give her the best life she can have.
I just want to enjoy her, enjoy our lives, spend our time together... but we don’t always get what we want.
As if she can discern the thoughts running through my head, she motions for me to duck down to her level. Squatting beside her, we come eye to eye, and she throws her arms around my neck. I hug her back, inhaling her sweet scent and feeling her blonde curls tickling my nose.
“I love you,” she whispers.
Something in me breaks, but I hold back, feeling the crushing pressure in my chest, the pain in my throat, and I whisper back to her, “I love you more.”