35. Addie
Chapter thirty-five
Addie
My flight is booked, my bags are packed, and all I have left to do is wait. Well, wait and continue caring for my child, of course.
I know I have to tell her about moving back to Arizona, but I’m dreading it like the plague. It was bad enough when I ripped her away from there. But she’s adapted quite well and made friends here in L.A., so going back will probably be even worse.
Ugh. In a lot of ways, I feel like a failure as a mother.
It doesn’t help things that smoke is billowing from the pan on the stove before me.
“Shit!” I exclaim before discarding the ruined batter into the trash, throwing the dirty dishes into the sink, and starting fresh.
Soon, my chaotic mind is distracted by my ringing phone.
Of course, it’s Hayden. A gain. He’s called about a dozen times and left even more texts. But I don’t have anything to say to him. So, it’s all for naught.
Ignoring another attempt to contact me, I read the back of the pancake mix again, pull out another big bowl and spoon, and mix the ingredients.
No matter what he says, I’m done believing his lies. I repeat in my mind over and over again.
Snap! I suddenly hear and feel as the utensil in my hand suddenly feels lighter.
“Dammit!” There are shards of wood in this batter, so I throw it away too. Can’t you do anything right?
I feel on the cusp of tears as I lean back against the counter and clutch the cool tiles for dear life.
“Mommy!” Luna’s little face suddenly appears. “Is breakfast almost ready?”
Her voice snaps me out of my state, and I’m left to scan the kitchen and see all the evidence of my failure.
“No. Not yet, baby,” I answer, blotting under my eyes.
She tilts her head. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
I sniffle. “Nothing. I just had an accident. That’s all. No harm, no foul.”
I can tell by her narrowed eyes and pursed lips that she doesn’t necessarily believe me. But she drops everything, nonetheless.
“Actually,” I say when the idea of starting all over again exhausts me, “why don’t we go out for breakfast? Oh, I know! We can go to Millie’s.”
Her face brightens. “Okay!”
With relief, I say, “Great.”
She retreats into the hallway before emerging again in a hoodie and her favorite sneakers. But then she says something that completely devastates me, “Can we invite Hayden? He likes Millie’s too. He told me.”
My heart drops down to my kneecaps, and there’s a wrenching feeling in my stomach. “No, sweetie.”
Her lips pout as she looks at the ground. “Oh. Why not?”
“Um.” I scratch my head as I think. “Uh . . . He’s working.”
“I thought you said the two of you work together?”
Dang her and her perfect memory!
“We do. I mean, sometimes. Not all the time. He has his business, and I—”
“You’re taking over Abuelo’s . ”
“Right.” For right now, she doesn’t need to know that that isn’t the case anymore.
When she stalls a little longer and just looks up at me, I try to scramble to think of something else to say. And something that isn’t about you know who.
“What about the beach? After breakfast, we can go to the beach. Would you like that?”
A smile spreads across her face. “Yeah!”
Whew. “Great. Come on!”
***
We’re sat outside in the sunshine at Pasadena.
“What looks good, Loones?”
Both of our menus are open, and I have to put mine down to see her.
“Well, I really wanted pancakes this morning.”
Clearly. She requested them specifically, but then I had to go and royally mess them up.
“But now, I’m thinking a Belgian waffle might be good. That’s the big one, right?” She puts her menu down and demonstrates his approximate size with her hands.
“Yeah. They have the square pockets in them.”
She grins and nods. “All the better for the butter and syrup.”
“Exactly!” I swear, this kid can never fail to brighten my day.
When our server initially approaches us, I ask for coffee, and Luna opts for freshly squeezed orange juice instead.
“You know, Paige’s mom makes orange juice by hand every day,” she explains after we’re left alone again.
“Does she?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Uh-huh. It’s so good. Paige didn’t even know what Tang was!”
I do my best to fake a laugh. “She doesn’t? How funny.” But of course, I wouldn’t expect some uppity kid to know the diluted, sugary taste of Tang, which I often made for Luna when she was little as I couldn’t afford much else.
Finally, our drinks are delivered, and we order our meals.
I’m not usually big on pancakes, waffles, or anything super heavy like that for breakfast. But my daughter really sold me on them today, so I went for the same thing as her.
“Two Belgian waffles coming right up,” our server in a long, red apron says with a wink before doodling on his little notepad.
“Thank you!”
But after he jaunts away, Luna looks angry, and she even crosses her arms.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask after sipping my coffee.
She scoots her chair a little closer and whispers, “Mama, I think that man has a crush on you.”
My jaw drops. “What?” I have no idea who she’s talking about. So, I look around.
“No, no. The waiter.”
“Oh.” My vision focuses on her again. “Don’t be silly, baby. They have to act that way. It’s how they ensure that they are going to get a tip.”
Luna, looking far too adult than she has any right to, leans her elbows on the table, intertwines her fingers, and says, “I don’t know. I didn’t see him wink at any other mommies around here.”
That last sentence, thankfully, reminds me just how young and innocent she is.
Eventually, our meals are brought out, and he leaves the table again without a wink or any other suggestive facial gestures.
“See?” I poke fun at her, my knife and fork at the ready to cut into the buttery delight before me.
She just rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I know what I saw.”
We both enjoy a few bites before I ask, “Hey, Loones?”
“Yeah?” Her mouth is full, and she sucks down some orange juice before swallowing all of it down like a snake ingesting an entire mouse.
“You alright?” She had a few choking spells when she was younger, so I’m almost always on high alert for another.
“Uh-huh.” Long eyelashes flicker up and down quickly before she gulps some more of her orange beverage, leaving a ring above her upper lip.
Taking my napkin in my hand, I lean forward and clean her face off.
“Tell me, do you miss Arizona?” I ask.
“Oh.” Understandably, she seems puzzled by my question. “Well, yeah. I mean, I guess so. Why?”
“Just wondering,” I lie. I’m hoping that if I can get her thinking about the good old days, she’ll be more psyched about the move back once I finally tell her about it.
“What about you?” she questions just before delivering, taking another syrupy forkful into her mouth.
“I do. A lot. Especially Sam.”
Luna nods. “Oh, yeah. She’s the best.”
At this moment, I’m proud to have raised her with an amazing taste in human beings.
As we continue chatting and eating, we make small talk, and she tells me about her new friends in Los Angeles and her old ones in Phoenix that she misses. While talking about the first group of mostly young girls around her age, I feel guilty. But once she brings up the others, I feel hopeful again about our future in The Grand Canyon State. The very place where I came with nothing except the clothes on my back and her in my belly and set down roots.
“Okay,” she says, placing her utensils down in a crisscross pattern on the plate and covering them with her napkin. “Beach time?”
“Beach time.”
I can’t tell you if it’s a real memory, or one I cooked up in my head. But regardless, I can picture my father—with his crimson curls blowing wildly in the wind—crouching over me while I sat in the sand. He told me that you had to wait thirty minutes after you ate to get into the water. Now, imagined or not, I’ve always stuck by that rule. Although, that was always much to Luna’s chagrin.
“Paige’s mom doesn’t make her do this,” she whines after we both change into our swimming suits and sit on our blankets.
“Well, then there’s a good reason why I’m your mom and not her.”
She guffaws and crosses her arms above her belly again.
As I wait for the alarm I’d set for my watch to go off, I lean back and allow myself to fully appreciate the beauty around me. Sure, Arizona is also nice, but we don’t have beaches quite like they do in California. There’s a spirit to them that I can’t quite explain. I suppose it exists in tandem with the more laid-back culture and attitude that people exude here.
Despite what I said to my daughter, part of me will miss it. After all, I was born and raised a Cali girl myself. But in my heart of hearts, I also know that it’s time to move on.
For a brief moment, I allowed myself to fall for the spell or guise that I belonged here, but it’s not true. Abuelo’s business was never mine to run. And Hayden, well, Hayden was never my anything . When I was younger, I dreamed he’d be my boyfriend. And now, I fantasize about him being an active father to Luna and partner to me. But alas, I was let down.
It’s time to finally let him go, I remind myself as I look out into the vast water before us.
When the chirping from around my wrist goes off, Luna wastes no time running away and being engulfed by the waves.
“Loones!” I call after her. “Wait!” Getting up to my feet, I follow after her with arm floaties in my hands.
“Mom! No!” she protests while looking around in embarrassment after I frantically pull her back to safety on shore and start to secure them around her upper arms.
“Well, I’m sorry. A few weeks ago, you were terrified of swimming!”
With a roll of her eyes, she says, “But these are for babies.”
I’ve already gotten one on, but I pause and read the small writing on the other. “Would you look at that? It says for ages four and up. You’re ‘up.’”
“Mom—” We both look around at all the other kids around who appear to be her age and are swimming independently.
“Fine.” I give up, realizing I might be a tad bit overprotective, and I take them off from her. “But stay close!”
“I will. I will!” If there’s one good thing that came out of Hayden’s momentary presence in her life, it was her getting over her fear of the water.
From there, I pull our stuff closer, I plop down on my towel, and watch her confidently splash around.
Soon after, a woman in a large sun hat perches next to me. “Is that your first?”
“Oh.” I glance over at her and shake some sand off my hands. “Yeah, she is.”
She then points to a little boy in blue trunks who is splashing around right by Luna. “That’s my Henry. He’s seven. And I’m LuAnn.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Addie. That’s Luna, she’s also seven.”
LuAnn clicks her tongue. “Well, isn’t that a coincidence.”
I nod and then peer down at her left hand. No ring.
“I’m sorry to be presumptuous, but are you a single mom?” she asks, apparently doing the same “recon” work that I was.
Rubbing my own bare ring finger, I say, “Oh, yeah.”
She shakes her head. “It’s so hard, isn’t it?”
Boy, is it ever. Right then and there, the severity of my next moves hit me like a brick wall. Once we move back to Phoenix, I’m going to have to rebuild our lives all over again. I’ll have to find an apartment that fits the two of us, a school for her, and a new job for me.
Ugh! Just the thought is so overwhelming.
But then I resolve that I’ll do it all in baby steps. Just like I did before.
Step one: Tell Luna that we’re moving tonight.