9. Teeny
CHAPTER NINE
Teeny
NOW
I never thought Sadie would outgrow the fairies and princesses stage. I thought she would prance around in her frilly dresses decked out in glitter and tulle until she grew out of them and asked for new ones to replace them. I didn’t expect there to be an expiration date for when she would stop wearing those cheap tiaras and plastic shoes that clacked on the wood floor.
But, alas, the day came. She decided she no longer liked all the make-believe things and shifted her interests into purple and Taylor Swift and learning how to play the guitar and piano at the same time. She focused her time on writing poetry as if she’d suffered through a break-up when the extent of her heartbreak didn’t go beyond a dispute with her friends over who the cutest BTS member is. It crept up on me until one day she requested a trip to Home Depot for a can of amethyst purple paint to slather over the large princess castle decal I put up at the head of her bed when she was three. She’d moved onto the next stage of her life where she’d need me less and demanded more privacy.
“Did you pack your curling iron?”
Sadie nods, her arms elbow deep in her duffel bag resting atop floral print bedding. The ones that replaced her princess comforter right before she started junior high. “And I made sure to bring enough tampons,” she says.
“You got all of your toiletries too?” I ask, taking a quick peek into her bag, trying hard not to hover. “Toothpaste, toothbrush, shamp?—”
“Yes, Mom. I got it all.” She walks away to pack up the rest of her things, gingerly placing her acoustic guitar in its case and stuffing away a few pages of sheet music.
I peer at the digital clock at her bedside. “Your dad should be here any minute.”
Just then, we’re interrupted by the distant sound of a horn honking. Three short beeps, signaling Leo’s arrival outside.
I pull Sadie in for a long hug. “Call me whenever you want,” I mumble into her hair. “I don’t care if it’s two in the morning and you just want to say good night. Or good morning.”
“I will, Mom.”
“Have fun and learn loads,” I add.
She lets out a loose giggle. “I will!”
Another impatient honk interrupts our embrace, and I unwillingly let her go before reaching for her duffel bag. Sadie follows suit, slinging her guitar case over her shoulder. When Sadie walks out the front door and I follow close behind, I see Leo walk cautiously toward us. It’s so strange to see this man, the man who used to walk through this house in his tattered pajamas, walk the steps of the driveway now with so much heed.
“Hi, Sadie bug,” he calls as she lowers her guitar case and runs into his open arms.
“Daddy!” she squeals. It’s like she’s that little six-year-old girl again, obsessed with putting stickers on her dad’s face along with glitter lip balm and pink nail polish.
I see a small crack in Leo’s reserve when he holds Sadie in his arms. It’s the same soft spot that would make my heart weaken. Forget about those long nights in a cold bed or canceled dinner dates. And for the first week after I found out about his affair, it was the reason I considered working through this. For our family. Until the resentment lingered like rotting mold.
“Can we get some Starbucks on the way?” Sadie asks, handing off her guitar case to Leo. “I’m craving a caramel macchiato.”
“Is all that caffeine even good for you? Doesn’t it stunt your growth?”
Sadie rolls her eyes, sliding into the front seat and poking her fingers at the elaborate touch screen inside Leo’s shiny new Audi.
The slam of the trunk brings me back to Leo, his cautious eyes peering at me, gauging what’s allowed and what’s not. And I can’t believe this is the same man I used to spend weekends in his small studio apartment in nothing but bed sheets and day-old pizza.
“How are you, Teeny?” he asks. His monotone voice sounds so formal.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, responding in an uncomfortably stiff cadence.
He pushes the heel of his hand against the closed car door. Music thumps on the inside, and I get a quick peek of Sadie’s muffled voice drowning in the bass.
“I’ll pick her up in four weeks,” I let him know. “You don’t have to make the drive again.”
He takes a step closer to me. “Javi’s taking Sergio and Annie camping the first week of August,” he explains, referring to his brother and niece and nephew. “They got this big RV, and he’s driving all of them up to Big Bear for a week or two before school starts. I was thinking of joining them. Bring Sadie with me.”
“We have Josh’s wedding.”
“Right.”
“But…I guess you can take her after the wedding depending on when they go,” I tell him, the guilt making me offer more than I planned to.
A sad smile spreads across his face. “Thanks, Teen.”
I nod. “Have a safe trip.” I turn to leave at the same time I see him reach his hand up to touch me, but he stops himself.
“Actually, Teeny.” He shoves his hands in his pocket and rocks on the heels of his feet. He’s wearing a dark Lacoste shirt, probably something I bought him, with jeans and sneakers. A vast difference from the usual business attire he wears during the work week. Though he’s dressed down, I see the small details that show how different we both are from those twenty-somethings that didn’t mind buying clothes in bulk at Old Navy or whatever was on sale at Nordstrom Rack. Like the Piaget glinting off the sunlight on his wrist. Or the Tom Ford sunglasses folded and tucked into the collar of his shirt. But the bags under his eyes and his gritty five o’clock shadow can’t hide the stress dawdling between us. He can’t glitz that up with designer clothes or expensive accessories.
“Yes?” I ask after we’d been standing there for a few seconds too long.
“I was wondering if maybe we could talk.”
I hold back the frustrated sigh rising up my chest and cross my arms instead. “What did you want to talk about?”
He shifts his gaze inside the car, checking on Sadie who’s still oblivious to our conversation. “Are you free for dinner? Tomorrow night?”
“I’m going to this cake tasting thing for Mina.”
“Friday?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please?”
“Leo, whatever you have to say, just say it now.”
“I thought it would be nice for us to be alone.” He takes another small step closer to me and a part of me recoils. “Sadie won’t be here, and we can talk.”
Whatever emotional rage I’ve been tampering down in an attempt to be cordial starts to climb up my throat, and my chest feels tight with frustration. “I really don’t have anything to say to you.”
“But I…There are a lot of things I want to talk about. I need to explain?—”
“What could you possibly have to explain to me?” I hiss, my hands fisting at my sides.
His palms face me. “Okay,” he offers. “I-I’m sorry. Okay?”
“Just go, Leo. If I need to talk to you, I’ll call you. Or my lawyer will.”
“Are you serious? You’re not really going to go through with this.”
I glare at him. “Why wouldn’t I? You cheated on me. You fucked some twenty-two-year-old paralegal because she batted her eyelashes at you and stroked your ego.”
“It wasn’t like that?—”
“No? Because I don’t know how you can paint it in a different way. It’s pretty clear what happened.”
“Teeny—”
We’re interrupted by the sudden burst of music when Sadie opens the car door. “ Daaad ! I don’t want to miss orientation!!”
Our stiff bodies leaned into an obvious altercation, slacken at the sound of Sadie’s voice.
“Yeah, Sade. We’re leaving right now.”
Sadie looks at me with a furrowed brow, taking in my uneasy stance and flushed face. I force a smile and take a few steps toward her before ducking my head to peck a quick kiss to her hairline. “Send me some pictures when you get there. I want a video of that song you’re working on.”
She smiles, her giddy grin beaming with pride. “I love you, Mommy.”
“Love you too, Sadie bug.”
I close the door and catch Leo rounding the car. The somewhat amiable air he tried hard to maintain has dissipated into something unpleasant. Something damaged and irreparable. He looks at me as if barely realizing how broken we’ve become.
* * *
The next day, twenty-four hours post-argument with my soon-to-be ex-husband, I’m driving the twenty-minute drive to Just Sweets, the very hipster and very chic bakery handling the three-tier wedding cake Mina and Josh spent a pretty penny on for their wedding. The day’s shifting into evening, and the sun is gradually falling behind the hills of Del Mar Heights, peeking through the uneven terrain of homes and rise and fall of the highways. As my Spotify playlist decides what to play from my current shuffle, it’s interrupted by the sudden ring of an incoming call from an unknown number through the speaker system.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Christine Diaz?” asks a deep, unfamiliar voice.
“This is she.”
“My name’s Eric Lang. I received your number from a colleague of mine,” he starts to explain. “I hope it’s okay that I reach out to you like this, but I’m looking into remodeling a large property out in La Jolla and am in need of a designer-slash-decorator.”
“Oh, yes,” I answer, my mind shifting into work mode. “Yes, of course.”
“It’s a resort-style hotel, a little run down, but I just took ownership of it last month and am currently planning a whole remodel. You came highly recommended.”
“Oh, well, thank you for reaching out.”
“Would you be available to meet? Maybe sometime this week?”
“I have to check my calendar, but yes, absolutely. Would it be okay if I get back to you? I want to make sure I don’t double book before setting a time and date.”
“Absolutely,” he answers. “You can reach me at this number anytime.”
“Great. Thank you, Eric. I’ll be in touch soon.”
I press the button to end the call right as I pull into the small six-car parking lot of Just Sweets. The bell dings as soon as I enter the store, announcing my arrival and initiating an eager greeting from a middle-aged redhead in a floral apron.
“Hi!”
“Hi,” I respond. “I’m here for the cake tasting. For the Cohen wedding?”
“Oh, yes! You must be Mina.”
I wave a hand in her direction to correct her. “Oh, no. I’m one of the bridesmaids. Mina’s a bit busy so I’m here to help out.”
“Well, nice to meet you. I’m Kelly. Is it just you?”
“The groom, my brother, is on his way,” I tell her.
Just then, we’re interrupted by the sound of the same chime that sounded when I entered the quaint yet stylish shop. When I turn to face the entrance, I see my brother enter the store.
“This must be the groom,” Kelly announces.
Josh reaches my side and nods politely. “Josh Cohen,” he says, introducing himself.
“Nice to meet you,” Kelly responds. “We’ll do the tasting here,” she tells us, gesturing to a small wrought-iron table with two chairs set up next to a display case of cupcakes.
Kelly disappears as Josh and I synchronously pull out chairs and sit.
“Thanks for helping out,” Josh says solemnly.
“Sure.” It’s quiet between us, and I don’t miss the somber mood radiating off my brother. “Is everything okay?”
He nods unconvincingly.
“Are you sure?”
He hesitates, running his fingertip over the pronged plastic fork sitting in front of him. When he looks at me, his face softens into something that aligns with sympathy. “I talked to Leo.”
“Oh.”
“He called, asked me to meet him for lunch.”
“What did he tell you?”
His brow furrows. “That you kicked him out. And you’re talking to lawyers.”
I shake my head. “Did he tell you why?”
“Yeah,” he answers in a low voice. “He told me he talked to James too. I guess he’s trying to recruit whoever he can to convince you to forgive him.”
“James didn’t say anything.”
“I know,” he answers. “He said he doesn’t want to get in between you two. And you know he’s got his own set of issues at home.”
“It wasn’t just a one-time thing,” I tell him. “He was seeing her for seven months before she demanded he leave me. She threatened to tell me. He started having Fatal Attraction nightmares and told me he couldn’t risk her meddling with his family. Said he couldn’t do that to me and Sadie.”
Josh scoffs. “That was nice of him.”
“It’s over.” I clamp my teeth over my lower lip. “It’s been over. For a long time. Not just because of the affair, but we’ve grown apart over the years. This was just the tipping point.”
Josh reaches for my forearm across the table. “Whatever you want to do, I’m here for you. Me and Mina. We’ll get you through this.”
“Yeah,” I croak hoarsely.
“And I’m sorry.”
I tilt my head to the side, a little confused. “About what?”
“If I had known…I wouldn’t have asked Everett to be a part of all of this.”
My body tenses hearing Everett’s name. “Why did you?”
He exhales a heavy sigh. “I just…missed him. He was my best friend, and he disappeared so suddenly. I wanted to catch up, know what he’s been up to.”
I nod, and Josh offers another apology. “I really am sorry, Teen.”
“It’s—I mean, it’s fine. I’m an adult. I can handle it.”
“Teeny, I was there.” He pauses to run a hand through his hair. “I was there when you had to pick up the pieces of your heart. You were never the same after. And maybe it’s that I’m getting married, and I finally met someone I want to spend the rest of my life with, but I can’t imagine hurting Mina like that.”
My breath hitches. It’s been twenty years and I thought what I went through, I went through it completely alone. Isolated in my own world of heartbreak where I cocooned myself in pain and grief. I never once thought about the people around who witnessed it all.
“If I had known what was going on between you and Leo, I would’ve never asked him to come. Not when you’re this vulnerable.”
“I’ll manage,” I say with a weak smile. “The wedding’s going to fly by, and I’ll never have to see his annoyingly handsome face again.” I try to convince myself of the words caustically pouring out of me. It doesn’t matter how little they ring true. I have to be okay with it. I have to be able to face Everett at my brother’s wedding. Because the ensuing alternative, the one where I choose to let my past peek through the cracks in the walls I’ve built, isn’t something I think I’ll survive.
Josh smirks a tender chuckle, indulging my feeble joke, just as Kelly returns. She places a large rectangular plate carrying various cake slices ranging in different flavors between myself and Josh. “So, we have red velvet, chocolate, carrot, confetti, and vanilla.”
I poke a finger in Josh’s direction. “No confetti,” I say sternly. “Bride’s orders.”