11. Kendall
Kendall
Ilook around our apartment trying to game plan how I’m going to clean and keep an eye on Akio at the same time.
Emma and Maddox are coming over later today for a play date and I so badly want to make a good impression.
No one talks about how hard it is to form friendships as an adult and I’ve discovered firsthand how challenging and isolating it can be.
Even harder than that is making friends and maintaining relationships after having a child.
I had a small group of girlfriends in college but we barely stayed in touch.
There were a couple yearly Facebook posts, the obligatory birthday text, and a few group chat exchanges but that was it.
My closest friend had been Kai up until a few years ago and Jenna had moved across the country shortly after Akio was born.
Thankfully, now they’re both in my life but those friendships operate differently than they used to.
I desperately want some semblance of a social life and I want a few friends to show for it.
Begrudgingly, I set up Akio in his room with plenty of toys and his iPad.
That should at least buy me a half hour if I’m lucky.
I rush to tidy the kitchen, bathroom, and living room, stopping to put away books, loose toys, and the occasional stray Lego.
I take a break to put him down for a nap and finish up dusting and cleaning as quietly as I can, holding onto the stillness for a little longer.
Once he’s up, I light a vanilla scented candle in the kitchen and set out snacks for the boys and Emma on the counter.
Am I trying too hard? I definitely am. Hopefully it pays off.
Twenty minutes later, Emma and Maddox are standing at our door. Maddox comes barreling in at full speed, leaving Akio looking alarmed and a little frightened.
“Hi, please come in. I’m so happy you guys could make it,” I say to Emma.
“Thanks for having us,” she responds as she hurries to trail her son.
“Should we let them play for a little?” I suggest. “I left some games and toys out next to the couch.”
“Sure,” she smiles. “It’s so nice of you to have us over.” She takes her coat off and helps Maddox wrestle out of his jacket. I offer to take them both and hang them over the back of a chair.
“Akio baby, can you show Maddox some of your toys?” I ask him.
All I get is a hesitant nod in response.
Once they start racing trucks next to each other, I turn to Emma.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink? I have snacks in case you guys are hungry.” I gesture to the chips and fruit platter on the counter.
“Oh my god, that’s so sweet. You didn’t have to go through all the trouble. But yes, I will definitely have chips,” she says moving towards the counter. We sit at the table and start snacking while the boys play happily on the floor.
“So, do you have a lot of play dates?” I wonder. “We haven’t really had time to do any recently.”
“No, not really. It’s hard to find time.
I’m mostly raising him by myself. His father hasn’t been great in that department and my mom lives almost an hour away.
So, she helps when she can here and there but we don’t see her as much as I would like to,” she explains.
“What about you guys? Does your family live close?” she asks, reaching for another chip.
“My moms live about 15 minutes away and we usually see them twice a week, which is nice.”
“You’re lucky that you have them,” she comments.
“Yeah, we definitely are. I also work, so I don’t know what I’d do if they weren’t close by.”
“Oh, what do you do?”
“I’m a paralegal at Porter and West. I always wanted to be a lawyer but my plans kind of took a backseat once he was born,” I admit.
I wasn’t embarrassed about this, not exactly.
My job paid the bills, it had good benefits and we were financially stable.
But I was disappointed that I hadn’t continued chasing my dreams.
“I get it. I work at a bank as a teller and part time manager. Probably not my first choice career but it pays the bills,” she sighs.
“Exactly,” I nod, happy someone understands at least a little of what single motherhood entails.
“What about Akio's father,” she asks. “Is he around?”
“He wasn’t up until recently,” I whisper.
Then I proceeded to explain the whole sordid story to her—how we grew up together, broke up shortly after I found out I was pregnant, and hadn’t seen him in almost three years.
That he hadn’t known he had a son and now that he did, he would undoubtedly be part of our lives.
What I don’t say is how excruciating it had been to try and forget about him.
But you don’t forget a man like Kai. Even at five years old, I knew that we belonged to each other in some special and incomprehensible way.
When I met him, it was as if my heart seemed to whisper, ah there you are, I’ve been looking for you, like there was an invisible thread that had always connected us.
And how do you muddle through losing someone like that?
Someone you built your entire life around, someone who knew you before the world got their hands on you. How do you recover from that?
You don’t. Not really. Not ever in my experience.
You somehow pick up the shattered remains of your heart and will it to keep beating, to do the best it can.
I naively thought the pain would be easier to carry as time went on but it turns out it was pretty damn heavy no matter how much time had passed.
I don’t admit that I allowed myself one simple kindness and that was saving every article about his career that I could find.
I had folders of them by season—trade-deadline rumors, postgame scrums, breakdowns of his zone entries and faceoff percentages, all the little metrics people used to explain why he could tilt a game in one shift.
I had just wanted one small connection to him that wasn’t mangled or confusing or beyond repair.
Something I could preserve and marvel at and call mine.
No, I don't tell her all the twisted, convoluted details. Not yet anyways.
“Wow,” she replies when I’ve finished.
“Yeah, I know, you probably think I’m terrible for not telling him, right?” I bite my lip, worried about her response.
“I think everyone has their reasons for doing things," she replies, her lips forming a thin line. “My history with my ex isn’t exactly rose colored either,” she explains. “He wasn’t a very good person to me or to Maddox and it took a long time for me to figure out how to separate from him.” She pauses, seemingly conflicted about her next words.
“We lived in a shelter for a while and with my mom after we broke up. It took us some time to get on our feet,” she looks down at her hands.
“I’m sorry,” I say delicately. “That must have been very hard for both of you.”
“It was.”
She brings her gaze to mine but looks past me, through me, not at me.
Almost like it’s too painful to recount this part of her life and also make space for someone else’s reaction to it.
“But we’re in a much better place now.” Her eyes are watery and she swipes a finger under one of them, brushing away a tear.
“Oh god, look at me blubbering the first chance I get to socialize with an actual adult. I didn’t mean to dump all my drama on you,” she shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
And I know right away that Emma and I will be fast friends.
“You didn’t. I wanted to know and I totally dumped my drama on you first,” I comment and then we both break into laughter.
We spend so much time chatting and learning about each other that we don’t realize Akio and Maddox had slipped off into his room.
When we open Akio's bedroom door, my eyes go wide. There is crimson lipstick streaking the walls and smeared across his bedspread. Maddox is brandishing the tube of red lipstick like a weapon, preparing to strike again, while Akio shoves his hands into the mess on the comforter. I’m horrified but I can’t help a laugh that bubbles up my throat and escapes my lips.
When Emma steps in next to me, I think she is going to have a coronary.
Her eyes widen as she slaps a hand over her mouth.
“Oh my god. Kendall, I'm so sorry.” She squats down in front of Maddox and takes the lipstick from him. “Did you use this to write on the walls?” she asks in a firm but gentle voice. He nods.
I turn to Akio with my arms folded. “Did you both do this?” Tears start brimming in his eyes but he eventually responds, “Yes.”
“We’ll help you clean this up. I’m so sorry. He can be a handful sometimes,” she admits, her voice tinged with embarrassment.
“It’s okay. Honestly, we weren’t really watching them that well,” I say trying to ease her guilt.
“Right, but you have a pretty well behaved child. I have an outdoor pup who sometimes acts like the Tasmanian devil. This has Maddox written all over it. I feel terrible,” she replies, blowing out a long breath.
After we’ve attempted to clean up the mess and I throw his bedding in the washer, we give the boys a supervised snack.
Maddox hops around from the couch to the floor to his mom’s lap while he munches on fruit.
He moves so quickly and frequently I'm surprised he doesn’t choke.
Akio pops a few chips in his mouth and hums in contentment to himself on the chair next to me.
They’re quite different but they seem to get along, and so do Emma and I, which is great.
I just hope we can move past the great lipstick debacle of 2020.