Chapter 25
twenty-five
Rosalie
Iwake up the next morning feeling well rested after riding the high from my kiss with Cameron straight to bed. It was one of the first nights I fell asleep to something other than spiraling thoughts of all I needed to get done or memories of my mom.
I roll over to look at the clock and find it’s only six o’clock. I know Paige probably won’t wake for another hour, so I take this time to myself, making my coffee, and going back to my room to grab my book from the side table. But when I reach for it, my eye catches on my mom’s journal.
I haven’t read anything since the night I unpacked the box of her belongings for fear it would send me into a sadness I couldn’t recover from; and I had to function this past week at work, if you can even call what I did functioning.
I’m sure on some occasions, Elodie wondered if she hired a woman who could be a contender for the Guinness Book of World Records Smallest Bladder Award for the number of times she found me coming out of the bathroom. Apparently, that’s my go-to escape spot for breakdowns.
The wave of agony doesn’t last long, but it’s such an overwhelming sensation I know if I don’t find a quiet spot to myself, everyone will see me ugly crying in public.
Elodie really has been so good to check in on me, Kara too, but I’m just not ready to show them this side of me quite yet.
I’d rather Elodie think I have an award-winning bladder than have her think she hired some emotionally unstable lunatic who bursts into tears in front of coworkers and clients alike.
I stare at the journal, running my fingers over it, and wonder if I can handle what’s inside.
We have nowhere to be today, so I don’t have to worry about hiding from anyone other than Paige.
I’ve been pretty open with my feelings, wanting her to know it’s okay to have feelings of sadness and to share your emotions with those you trust. But I’m also trying not to scare her by bursting into sobs every moment of the day, even if I feel like it.
Paige has been doing surprisingly well, all things considered.
I think her return to normal life here in Winhaven has been a blessing.
Each day she heads to camp and is distracted by friends and fun activities from morning to late afternoon.
On occasion, especially at bedtime, she gets a little more sentimental and asks me to tell her stories about her grandma from when I was younger.
I’ve been able to hold it together, and sharing that part of my mom has been good for both of us.
My fingers close around the journal and my romance book. If I can’t handle reality, I can switch over to fiction for the escape. I pad back into the living room and curl up in the corner of the couch, grabbing a small throw pillow to hug. I open the journal and read.
Dear Mom,
Oh my goodness!! How on earth did you do this?
! Did you know babies don’t sleep? God, it’s a good thing I love her so much because wow, I’m exhausted.
And not the kind a short nap will fix. I’m tired to my bones and need a nap the length of eternity to recover.
But, you were right, I’d miss every wink of sleep to stare at Rosalie.
I think she looks just like us. When she grows up, I’m sure she’ll get tired of hearing “you look just like your mom” like I did, but right now I love it and I hope she will too.
Thanks for all the reassurance I’m doing this right, I’ve needed it. I love you so much.
Love,
Lily
My Dearest Lily,
Oh yes, my dear girl, I remember those days.
As I’ve told you before, you were an awful sleeper.
If I didn’t have you swaddled up in the bassinet next to me each night, I would have walked a marathon before dawn, toddling up and down the hall between your room and ours.
I tried everything! Warm milk, gentle massages with lotion and lavender, holding you, rocking you, some nights it seemed like there was simply never enough of anything to keep you asleep.
But then I’d start humming or quietly singing your favorite song and magically your eyes would start to grow heavy.
You should try that with Rosalie! And if you can’t find a song she likes, try your own: “Can’t Take my Eyes Off You” by Frankie Valli.
Oh, Lily, I can see it now, your crinkled nose at my suggestion. Wondering if that’s even appropriate for a baby’s lullaby. Honestly, I don’t know and I didn’t care. I just knew when I sang it, you miraculously fell asleep. So, it became your song too.
You really are doing so wonderfully as a mother and watching you with Rosalie is a true gift. All of us doubt ourselves at some point or another during the journey of motherhood, but remember, I believe in you!
Love,
Mom
These letters make me smile. It’s fun to read their correspondence. It’s like I’m getting to know my grandmother through my mother’s eyes, and their relationship mirrors my own with my mom.
I briefly scan back up to the song title and laugh.
I have no recollection of my mom telling me about this song, so maybe it didn’t work for me.
But I definitely recognize it from my favorite scene in 10 Things I Hate About You.
It’s an older movie, but dang if it isn’t still a favorite.
Picturing the big band scene with Heath Ledger dancing along the bleachers has me wondering how the hell my grandmother turned it into a lullaby.
I have to agree with her, though, do whatever it takes to get the baby to bed.
And damn if my grandma didn’t have timeless taste in music.
I brave the next one, wanting even more time with my mom, even if it’s only on paper.
Dear Mom,
Today, Rosalie toddled into the kitchen.
It was adorable until she face-planted on the wood floor, hitting her chin hard enough to break the skin.
There was blood everywhere, and I thought she might have also busted one of her teeth.
The sheer panic I felt when seeing all the blood almost made me faint and the pain in my heart that my baby was hurt was more than any wound could inflict.
Luckily her tooth was intact and the cut on her chin will probably scar but doesn’t need stitches.
After I cleaned her up, I called you in hysterics.
The failure I felt as a mom was so intense, but you were there to comfort me and assure me accidents happen when caring for another life.
You told me to have patience with myself and give myself grace.
You also told me kids do “crazy shit and to just be ready.” My mouth hung open for a solid minute from the shock of that statement.
In the end it made me burst out laughing, which I think was your actual goal.
I’m so grateful to have you with me on this journey of motherhood.
I love you so much and don’t think I could do it without you.
Love,
Lily
My Dearest Lily,
I said that in full confidence you wouldn’t repeat it and here you have it, plain as day, on paper!
Just reading it had me covering my face with my hands and shaking my head with embarrassment.
I would have said anything to take away your pain at that moment.
The mom guilt at every turn is a real thing.
I remember the day you fell out of the tree at your grandma’s on Easter and we drove everywhere trying to find a place that could stitch you up.
Of course, every walk-in clinic was closed and just as we were about to turn and drive you to the big hospital thirty minutes away, we realized the bleeding had stopped and you were just fine.
You and Rosalie will probably have matching tiny scars on your chins.
Look at yours and know she will survive this and much more.
You’re doing your best, honey, and that’s all any mother can do.
I know you’re probably thinking every letter is a repetition of the same sentiment, and in some ways, it is and always will be.
I’ll never stop reminding you that trying your best is enough and every moment you love that girl is your best. Remember, I believe in you.
Love,
Mom
Reaching up, I run my fingers over the tiny, raised scar on my chin and smile. The image of my mom freaking out about something so minor is something I can vividly see. I shake my head and let out a quiet laugh, realizing I would have done the exact same thing.
The sound of small footsteps coming down the hall lets me know Paige is awake.
Closing the journal, I run my hand over the worn cover before putting it on the end table.
I thought reading it would bring me so much grief I’d want to hide it away.
Instead, there is so much life on the pages and it’s letting me hang on that much longer to more tangible memories of my mom.
“Good morning, honey,” I say to Paige as she enters the living room with wild, tangled hair and sleepy eyes.
“Morning, Mommy,” she returns, climbing into my lap and snuggling close.
I know one of these days she’ll no longer want to curl up like this, which makes me all the more grateful for it now.
She looks up at me with big hazel eyes that look so much like mine. “Mommy, do you go to work today?”
“Nope, this weekend is for just me and you, Paigey.”
“Yay!” she squeals. “Can we go to a park and get ice cream and see a movie and—”
“Whoa, Paige,” I say with a smirk. “We don’t have to do everything today. I know our weekends have been filled with house stuff, but we live here now, let’s check out another park today and leave the rest to explore later. What do you think?”
“Okay,” she states with the resignation of a kid who thinks all her hopes and dreams have been dashed, but then brightly adds, “Can we ask Addison to come play with us?”
I get a giddy sense of anticipation. My heart rate quickens with the possibility of seeing Cameron again.
If Paige were an adult who could pick up on the nuances of desperation, I’d be more embarrassed about the quick “Yes, of course!” that comes tumbling out of my mouth. Luckily, she’s not, and my pride remains intact.
I pull out my phone and see it’s only seven thirty in the morning and laugh. Paige may get up early on the weekend but that may not be the case for Addison. Parent to parent, I would love to let Cameron sleep in later than I have, if possible.
Instead, I talk Paige into a big breakfast of waffles, eggs, and bacon. When we’re done, I clean up the kitchen and look at the clock with anticipation. It says 8:30, and I figure now is as good a time as any to text Cameron.
Good morning! I really hope Addison isn’t one of those magical kids who lets you sleep in on the weekends and this message doesn’t have the undesirable effect of being your wake-up call. If it is, please accept my apology but also an invitation to play at the park today with Paige and me?
I nervously place my phone down on the table, assuming he won’t reply right away but then my phone dings and I snatch it up.