Chapter 26 Daisy
After the night hiding out in Jim’s spare room where nothing at all happened, I turned up at my mother’s house bright and early on the borrowed bike.
I knew Mom wouldn’t approve of me riding, so I parked a few houses up.
She backed Dad’s stance that women belonged only on the back, and she was proud to be on the back of Dad’s bike.
The habits of a lifetime were formed a long time ago.
For instance, she’d always been an early riser.
She’d make a cooked breakfast for Dad. If he’d been out the night before, the extra time Mom spent in the kitchen would give him time alone in the bedroom to fish out whatever trinket he’d decided would make up for his latest indiscretion.
There were a few times he didn’t have anything, and all he gave her were empty promises, but it didn’t change anything.
She’d accept whatever it was, gush over it, put it on…
and then go into a room and cry when he’d left for work.
It had been a while before I realised that this was not normal behaviour for Moms. It was even longer before I realised that most couples didn’t cheat, and most men didn’t have to buy apology gifts.
Some men just bought gifts because they liked their partner. No other reason.
It still warped my mind. I hated jewelry on women.
My first instinct was always that they were getting cheated on, even when they weren’t, and I had to work hard not to react inappropriately.
My first reaction to seeing someone showing off a new piece of jewelry was always commiseration or condolences.
It had caused a few interesting reactions.
I paused in front of the door to my childhood home.
I didn’t know what to expect once the door opened.
Mom’s life had revolved around Dad, and to be fair, the last time I saw her was the happiest I’d ever seen her.
Probably because she wasn’t getting apology bling.
She was getting all of the man’s attention.
I took a deep breath and knocked, then I heard little feet running towards the door.
“I get it, Nanny!” a little voice yelled.
“No, no Dylan, let Nanny get the door, sweetie.” The door opened to reveal my Mom with Dylan bouncing behind her.
“Daisy! You made it home.” She reached out to me and I stepped into her embrace. I took the moment to compose myself. Just because Dylan was here didn’t mean Blaze was. Janie had said that Blaze was known for sharing Dylan around.
“Hey Mom, hey Dylan.” I disengaged the hug and gave Dylan a high five, my surprise quickly turning to suspicion. He was still in pajamas.
“Did you have a sleepover?” I asked him in my talking-to-kids voice.
His shyness returned. He just nodded.
I smiled. He really was a sweet little boy. Obviously, he took after his mother. Pity he looked like his dad.
“Is,” I paused, “Nanny cooking you breakfast?” I put extra emphasis on the word while looking at Mom. She had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, but there was something else in her expression. Hope?
“Shall we all go and eat together?” she asked, trying to usher us down the hallway. Dylan nodded and ran down to the kitchen. I took a look at the photos hanging on every surface. Pride of place was my wedding photo with Dad, Mom, Maisey, and Tinker. We all looked happy.
I paused at it, trying to find the clues that it was an illusion. That someone in there was aware of the total cock-up that my relationship really was. But everyone was looking bright and shiny…and happy. Even me.
Mom came back to me. “We’ll be happy like that again, Sweetheart. Dylan will just have to take Poppy’s place in the next picture,” she reassured me. I felt sick. That picture was as fake as a storybook cover.
“Dylan called Dad Poppy?” I asked in a whisper, choosing the least confronting battle.
Mom looked at me strangely. “Of course. We didn’t want to confuse the dear boy for when he starts to call you Mommy. Come along now and take a seat. We have pancakes!”
I bit back what I was going to say and followed her. Part of me was hoping that it was Dad who wanted me to stay with Blaze, and without his advocacy, Mom would support me in getting a divorce. Something was telling me that it was a vain hope.
A little while later, breakfast done and dusted, Dylan changed and running around outside, I broached the subject with Mom.
“Mom, what did you mean ‘when’ Dylan calls me Mommy?”
She looked at me startled. “Well, when you and Blaze start living together again. It won’t do for him to call you Dad’s wife…or even Daisy, like you’re just another woman.” She adjusted the clasp in her bracelet uncomfortably. “Besides, he has no mom at this stage.”
“He has a lot of aunts and grandparents though,” I pointed out.
“Daisy,” Mom gasped, disapproval lacing each syllable. “You’re not going to make him give up the child, are you?”
I gaped at her. “What are you talking about?”
She huffed in response. “I know Blaze has said it, and yes he’s told us, well your father and me, that if you don’t want Dylan…
Blaze is willing to give him up.” Mom leaned over and placed her hand on my arm.
“If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is.
” She sat back. “But please don’t do it. Dylan is a sweet child.”
“I wouldn’t separate a boy from his father, Mom,” I whispered in horror.
“Well, that’s settled then. Can he start calling you Mom yet?” She rocked back with a proud gleam in her eyes.
I pulled my head up and looked her in the eye.
“No. Because I don’t want a man who would give up his own son to please a woman. That’s just horrible. I’ve been thinking of finalizing this whole shit-show.”
Mom looked scared. “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of divorcing him,” she tremored. “He’s my only son-in-law.”
I looked away and around, then I focused on Dylan, who was concentrating on the grass.
“Blaze’s relationship with you is not dependent on me, Mom. I accept that you and Dad, and Blaze had a relationship, and my being away has probably strengthened it. But I can’t love him anymore. Not after what he did.”
“Oh honey. He’s given you a child. I know Dylan was from another woman, but he’s still fine with it. You can accept him and be happy. It’s not that hard to do.”
I let those words sink in. Mom wasn’t going to support me. She was Team Blaze.
I let out a disappointed breath and changed the subject.
“I thought you might need some help with organizing the funeral. Have you contacted any funeral homes?” I asked.
Mom’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” she whimpered. “What am I going to do without him?”
“It’s okay. I’ll look around today and get something worked out. Did Dad want anything special?”
“Cremation. He wanted to burn,” Mom said shakily.
I nodded. “Yeah.” I drew in a deep breath. “That sounds like Dad. I’ll go and make some calls, and visit some places. Did Dad have a lawyer or someone he used to do a will?”
Mum shrugged. “Whoever the club uses. I didn’t take much notice.”
I nodded. I could knock over two birds with one stone if that was the case. My divorce lawyer was at the same firm, and my appointment was today. I’d emailed Darcy the information he said he wanted, so today was to go over and formalize the separation of assets.
“Okay, I’ll pay them a visit and see if there’s anything. Do you have Dad’s death certificate? It’ll help me get some things done,” I continued with the questions. To be honest, it sounded like Mom was clueless.
Mom looked startled, then shook her head. “I’ll never get used to the thought of you working at the hospital and knowing all this stuff. I don’t really like it. I hope this nonsense between you and Blaze is sorted out soon, so you can stop.” She stood up and walked out of the room.
Dylan rushed in as soon as she left, with a daisy flower in his hand.
“Oh, did Nanny leave?”
“Just to get me something. Who is the flower for?” I crouched down beside him.
“Is for Daisy,” he proudly told me, then clarified, “D2!”
“Oh, that’s a good idea, although, won’t she need two?” I emphasized the 2 with my fingers.
“Yeah!” he gasped, getting excited.
I started to laugh as he turned to rush off, and then he turned back. “Yuh know, Dad doesn’t like D2, because she’s black…but I think she’s awesome!”
I did a combined grimace-grin.
“I think she’s awesome too,” I reassured him. A smile lit up his face. How could Blaze ever give him up?
“Are you going to be my Mommy?” he asked.
My heart flipped over. “No honey, you already have one, even if she’s not here.”
“Oh.” He looked crestfallen. “But Nanny says you will be.”
I crouched down, trying to think quickly about how to explain this in three-year-old terms.
“Nanny would like me to be, so she can see more of you. But I think she can see as much of you as you want, even if I’m not your Mommy. Besides, I’m not around enough to be your Mommy. I live far away from here.”
He pursed his lips and tilted his head up thoughtfully.
“So it doesn’t really matter if you’re my Mommy or not?”
Uh, I didn’t really understand the logic of that sentence.
“I’d like you to be my Mommy so I can see D2 as much as I want. I know you like her too.” Dylan looked up at me with pleading blue eyes.
I sighed. “Dylan, I’m not going to be here for much longer. It’s not fair for me to say yes to being your Mommy, and then never being here, is it? Mommies have to stay with their babies.”
“But my Mommy didn’t stay with me. She’s dead.” His lip started trembling. I wasn’t trained for this. I tapped his chest.
“Yes, she did. But she’s in your heart,” I countered. “Whenever you think of her, she’s listening.”
He thought about it and sighed. “Okay. An’ I do have an Aunty Shaq who helps me remember my Mommy. Is that okay?”
I eased out a breath of relief as I nodded. Then he opened his mouth to talk again. My stomach clenched in terror.
“Even though you don’t want to be my Mommy, will you still be my friend?” he asked.
My stomach eased. “Sure thing. I can be your friend.” I smiled.
“Yay, and I’ll call you Big D ‘cause you’re a big Daisy, and D2 is also Daisy, and you’re both my friends, but I can’t call you Daisy ‘cause D2 will think I’m talking about her, and that will just be confusing.
” I held my breath as he talked. I was wrong to relax.
He looked at me, and then wrapped his arms around my head.
“Thank you for being my friend, Big D. You’re the bestest,” he told me, before running away again.