Chapter Nineteen
Alisha
I’m still agonizing over telling Methew the truth.
Charles didn’t seem to have an opinion… or at least he didn’t share one. I’m still on the fence because I’m not sure how Methew will react to the news, or if he’ll find some way to use it against me, because he’d been pretty intent on getting me to go back to his place. The only reason he’d want to do that, I can assume, was to try and seduce me.
I do have to say that now that Charles knows the truth, a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I have to say that I'm relieved to know that he still wants me, even though he knows I've been lying to him all this time. Maybe I should have come clean about my daughter sooner, but everything seems to be working out exactly the way it needs to.
“You look like you're agonizing over something.”
I glance up at the doorway and meet my mother’s gaze. For a moment I decide to turn the tables. “You know you're here an awful lot, Mom. Do you ever go home?” As soon as I say the words, her expression changes and I know I've made a mistake.
“Is everything okay?” I feel awful for making a joke out of something that clearly hit a nerve. Then the implications begin to sink in, and I realize this situation might be worse than I’m even thinking on the surface. “Mom?”
She walks in my room and takes a seat on the bed beside me. Without her saying a word, I already have an idea what she's about to tell me. First, I just need to know that she’s okay. “Is he okay? Are you okay?” I'm worried for both their sakes.
“He is okay.” She folds her hands together and tucks them between her thighs, staring down at her lap. “And I think I’m okay.”
I can't help but think about my light-hearted jokes and how I've been poking fun at their relationship not that long ago. “Do you want to talk about it?” I lean against her, putting my head on her shoulder.
“I think I might be ready.” She leans her head against mine and we sit in the same way we have since I reached adulthood. “I think we both just realized that it's over.” There's a quiet exhaustion in her voice, as if she's more tired than she's ever been in her life. I can't help but wonder how long she's felt this way and if I could have done something to help along the way.
“I'm guessing he didn't learn how to cook pasta.”
My words just hang there in between us, and she lifts her head and looks down at me, a slight smile curving the corners of her lips. “Or maybe he got tired of sandwiches.”
I can't hold back a slight giggle at her words. You know, right now might not seem like the best time to be joking, but in all honesty, a light moment between the two of us is exactly what we both need. “What happens next?”
She lifts both shoulders. “Next we file for dissolution. We both know that we can't fix our marriage, so why fight? Maybe we were never really a good match, but I'm absolutely grateful for him because he gave me you.” She puts an arm around me and pulls me into a gentle hug.
I grapple with my feelings of fear, pain, and sadness. While I'm glad that it means that maybe both of them can move on and find happiness, I also mourn the loss of my childhood and the life I thought I had with the family I never thought would separate.
“Are you okay?” The fact that she's asking me how I'm doing while knowing that her marriage has fallen apart makes me ache even more.
“I will be. It's kind of a surprise and a lot to take in, but I'm here for you both.” I do love both my parents, but it's no secret I'm closer to mom. Still, I mean it when I say that I will be there for both of them if and when they need me. “How long have you known?”
“It's been about a week.”
“That's really recent.” I feel like the world's worst daughter for not noticing and not being more supportive in the moment. “I'd have done anything I could to help if you had told me.” I feel awful that she didn't feel comfortable telling me when things happened. “I can't even imagine the weight of going through that alone.”
But she pats my leg. “But I’m not alone. I was never alone. I have you.”
Hearing her say those words makes me feel good, but I wish I'd been there in a more supportive role. “I love you. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Just keep being you. I have to admit, I've really been enjoying my time with my granddaughter lately. She has a really good way of putting things into perspective.”
I nod my head along with my mother's words, knowing exactly what she means.
“You've got to stop beating yourself up. I know that you feel like you don't get enough time with her, but trust me, you're a good mom and she loves you so much.” She reaches around me to give me another hug. “The worst part is it's never going to feel like you've spent enough time. All you can do is your very best and you definitely have been, so be kinder to yourself.”
“I just want it all to stop passing so quickly and I wish that I knew the right answers.”
My mom chuckles. “Oh, honey, that fear never goes away. Even now, with everything going on having weighed all the pros and cons, I'm still not completely certain that I'm making the right choice by divorcing your father.” I can even hear a bit of uncertainty creeping into her voice. “But maybe if we talk about whatever you're struggling with, I can help you find some perspective.”
There's no harm in that idea. “Is Evie sleeping?”
She nods her head. “Yeah, put her down for a nap a little while ago. At first I thought she was too old for naps, but you were not kidding; she’s going to take one whether or not I think she should.”
I can't help but laugh. “She is a bit stubborn. I'm pretty sure she gets it from you.”
My mother glances at me with her mouth wide open, an offended sigh escaping her. “Let's be honest now, it's more likely she got it from you. Now what’s bothering you, sweet pea?”
That's a bit of a loaded question. “I'm trying to decide if I should tell Evie's father about her.”
My mom leans back slightly. “You never really talk about him.” She sounds surprised that I'm talking about him now.
“There's not much to tell.” That's the honest truth. It was a one-night stand gone wrong.
“I kind of had a feeling since you never brought him home.” The amusement in my mom's voice takes the sting out of the words.
“Yeah, he was definitely not a keeper.” Thinking about his antics today, I'm even more certain I made the right decision in not trying to pursue him. But that just makes my decision of whether or not I should tell him now all the more agonizing.
“Why are you thinking about this now?” My mom sounds confused, and I realize that without context it doesn't make very much sense. Of course, Charles had kind of let me in on that last night with all of his uncomfortable musings about why Methew would be so important in my life.
“My reason for not telling him back then when I found out that I was pregnant is because I found out that he was getting married.”
My mom gasps and I nod my head, well aware of what the implications of that are.
“He cheated.” My mom sounds aghast, as if she couldn't believe somebody would do something so awful to another human being. I'm right there with her; cheating is one of the worst things somebody can do to a partner, especially when they're about to marry.
“I don't know that for sure, but it is kind of suspect timing.” I lift both shoulders. Who knows, maybe they met, fell in love over the course of two days and planned a whole wedding and got married right away.
My mom scrunches up her face and nods her head. “You can say that you don't know for sure, but I'm reasonably certain I know for sure.”
I could agree with her. It's not that I want to give him an out. I don't want to face the fact that I may have been the other woman and allowed a man to cheat. But then again, saying that I allowed him to cheat sounds like I’m taking responsibility for his actions, and that weight and burden isn't mine to bear. Besides, the man was in Club Red; if I wasn’t the woman that night, another woman would have taken my place.
“I just can't help but feel like it's cruel. Given how much I love spending time with her, to have someone else miss out entirely feels wrong. If I put myself in his shoes, the thought of missing out on my child's life is devastating.” Just thinking about it now makes me tear up. I already feel like I miss too much of her life.
“Have you tried asking her what she wants?” My mother sounds completely serious, but I'm not sure how that would work.
“I think she might be a little young for that.” Not that I'm all about giving her options, because I prefer to give her as many opportunities to make decisions as possible, but this one might be a little bit too big for her to make at her age.
My mom nods her head in agreement. “You're probably right, it was just an offhanded idea; I don't think she's ready. Has she ever asked who her father is?”
I shake my head. “No, not yet.”
My mom spreads her hands wide, as if she's completely unsure and out of her depth. “Maybe wait until she starts asking those questions?”
I thought about that, but I wasn't sure if that was the best way to go. “Like I said, it's hard to know if I’m ever making the right decisions.”
“Let's come at it from another angle. Is he dangerous?” My mom sounds genuinely curious, as if she's worried I'd hooked up with some biker dude, or a Mafia cleaner, or an abusive low-life scum of a human being.
“I don't think so.” I mean, he's not good with boundaries and he's a bit of a dick, but I don't think he is an actual threat.
“Maybe that's the sign you need. She probably deserves to have a father in her life, and if he's not a bad guy, there's no reason to keep them apart, right?” Something about the way my mom says it makes too much sense and I feel my heart contract. Something else I hadn't even taken into consideration is that if he knows he's her father, he may ask for time with her. More time that she'll be away from me, that I won't get to spend with her.
That thought breaks my heart, but not as much as her anger or sadness about not having a father in her life when she gets older. Who am I to keep them apart? If he's a good influence and a good man overall, then shouldn't she be allowed to have him around?
“I'm sorry these kinds of decisions aren't easier to make. I don't envy you. I’m not sure I’d be able to make the right decision in this case.” She gives my leg a gentle pat, then stands up. “I guess I'd better go see if she's still sleeping or if she's getting into some kind of mischief.”
I glance at my phone to see that not much time has passed. “If you put her down right before coming in, she's probably still asleep.” I'm just trying to escape and wonder if there's more that she doesn't want to tell me.
“Do you think I should give Dad a call or let him have some space?” She's going to be the one that's best able to gauge his mood, and I don't want to intrude if he needs his time to think.
She glances at me. “I’d say give him a call. He seems a little unsteady and I'm not the best person to comfort him right now. Maybe you'll be able to do better.” With a wobbly smile, she turns to leave my room. She stops in the doorway and turns to look at me. “Come to think of it, maybe she has a right to know who her dad is.”
I wince.
“I didn't mean to imply that you've done anything wrong. I know that this isn't an easy decision, it just kind of came to mind. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not always right.” She taps the doorframe twice with her palm before leaving the room, and I'm left staring at the space she leaves behind, wondering if she's right.
Planting my elbows on my knees, I lower my head to my hands, wondering if I could have been a better daughter to her, more supportive in a tough moment of her life. She just imparted absolutely devastating news, and I'd still somehow managed to focus most of the conversation on myself.
“Mommy!”
I lift my head as Evie comes running into my room, her face smeared with chocolate as she opens her arms wide and throws herself into my arms.
My mother follows with a smile on her face. “I found someone sitting on the counter eating cookies out of the cookie jar.”
I frown playfully at my daughter. “What have I told you about sitting on the counter?”
My daughter gazes soulfully up into my eyes and answers in her sweet voice. “That butts are gross and don't go where food goes.”
I touch the tip of her nose with my index finger. “Exactly. So what the heck were you thinking, little lady?”
She giggles at my light-hearted tone.
“I think that she was thinking she wanted cookies.” My mom chimes in, her voice filled with laughter.
Evie nods as if her grandmother has nailed the heart of the issue. “I wanted cookies, Mommy. But I brought you one.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a crumbled cookie.
I pull her closer and press a quick kiss to her temple. “I love you so much,” I whisper.
“I love you more,” Evie responds.
“And I love you most, both of you.” My mother adds and my chest expands with love and joy.