Chapter 25 #2
While Jack is at a playdate with a friend from school and my little ones are napping, I take a shower and spend extra time blow-drying and straightening my hair.
Then I stand in my closet, taking a visual inventory, looking for something I never wore with Spence, a criterion that narrows the choices to a few random items.
I pick the sweater Sam gave me for my birthday, which would make her happy to know she’s going on the date with me.
The thought of her actually going with me makes me laugh as I pull on a newer pair of jeans that fit me again now that I’ve lost most of the weight I gained with Josh and then go into the bathroom to put on makeup.
Ella comes to find me while I’m in there and does a double take when she sees me a little dressed up and made up, too. “Mommy so pretty.”
“Aw, thank you, baby. How was your nap?”
“Good.”
I bend to pick her up for a snuggle.
“Mommy smell good.”
“Thank you.”
I probably ought to put more effort into my appearance, so she doesn’t grow up to think my regular messy look is the goal.
“I miss Daddy.”
Ugh, I wasn’t prepared for that. She hasn’t mentioned him in a while, which makes me sad.
“I do, too, honey.”
“Daddy come home soon.”
I’m gutted. “He would if he could.”
The single tear that slides down her sweet face is my undoing. I shouldn’t be going anywhere, let alone on a date after losing the father of my children. I’m deeply torn by what I want to do and what I probably ought to do.
Then I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and see that I look more like my old self than I have since that terrible morning at Camp David. I need this night out. I need it badly.
After kissing away Ella’s tear, I ask her if she wants to talk about it.
She shakes her head, so I carry her downstairs and set her up with Paw Patrol.
Then I go into the kitchen to slice an apple and put a little peanut butter in a bowl for dipping.
I sit next to her on the sofa while she watches her favorite show and munches on her favorite snack.
I’m fairly certain that I’ve succeeded in rebooting her mainframe away from painful memories, which is a relief, even if the guilt is ever present.
I’ve come to accept that guilt is a permanent part of my life now.
No matter what I’m doing or who I’m doing it with, I’m always thinking of the person who’s gone and never coming back.
I’ll ache forever for my precious babies, who’ll grow up without the daddy who loved them more than life itself.
And I’ll ache for Spence, who tried so hard to get better so he could be the husband and father he once was.
Tracy comes in a short time later and smiles when she sees me done up for my big night out. “You look beautiful, but then again, you always do, even when you don’t try. Bitch.”
Laughing, I say, “Big sisters are good for my ego, and little sisters are a pain in my ass.”
“Ah, yes, I got an earful this afternoon about keeping secrets and such. I told her it wasn’t my news to share.”
“Did that pacify her?”
“Hardly. We’re talking about the bloodhound, after all.”
“True,” I say with another laugh. “So Ella had a daddy moment after her nap that’s got me wondering if I ought to be leaving.”
“Yes, you ought to be leaving. She’ll be fine with Auntie Tracy. I brought paper dolls for her.”
“Oh, she’ll love that. I haven’t thought about them in an age.”
“Remember how much we used to love them?”
“So much. You’re the best. Thank you for everything you do for us.”
“I love you all, and you’d better not replace me with Sam as your favorite babysitter.”
“I’d never do that, but I might need to toss her a bone to keep her happy.”
“I’ll allow an occasional bone.”
“Gee, thanks. Josh will be hungry when he wakes up.”
“I’ve got it covered. Go on and have a great time. Don’t worry about anything here. Mike is bringing dinner over later.”
“Aunt and uncle of the year.”
“Tell that to the ones at the White House.”
“Let’s keep it between us.”
I leave her laughing as she tosses something to me that I catch in the air, so it won’t hit me. When I realize it’s a condom, I let out a scream. “What the hell, Trace?”
“Your face, though.” She’s bent double with laughter. “You can never be too safe.”
I throw it back at her. “Where’d you even get that?”
“I’ll never tell.”
“It’s probably old and moldy from your pre-Mike days.”
“I’ll have you know it’s brand-new, and there’re more where that came from.” She comes to me, tucks the “thing” into my purse and kisses my cheek. “When you’re ready.”
“Buzz off. I’m nowhere near ready for that.”
“Yes, you are, and it’s okay if you want to.”
“Bye, Tracy.”
“Bye, Ang. Don’t be a prude.”
I let the door slam in her face. She deserves it.
Ugh, way to put that in my head when I had to build myself up to get through dinner.
Hell, I had to build myself up to walk out the door.
As I stand at the curb waiting for Brad, I hope none of my neighbors see me getting into his truck and make a thing of it.
Thanks to my sister’s high profile—and mine by proximity—as well as the huge coverage that followed Spencer’s death, me going on a date might be newsworthy.
I can’t think about that, or I’ll turn right back around and forget the whole thing.