Chapter 37 Blythe #2
I wake with tears streaming down my face, turning in bed, half expecting Eric to be there. I run my hand over the empty spot beside me, the lack of warmth forcing me to take in a sharp, stuttering breath. Mornings like this are becoming less frequent, but they’re no less painful.
“You look sleepy,” Maggi says, watching me from over her bowl of porridge, her little forehead drawn in concern.
“Maggi,” Martha scolds.
“It’s okay. I am sleepy, Roo. I couldn’t sleep because I’m so excited about your first day of school.”
“I’m excited too,” she says happily, going back to her breakfast.
I avoid looking at Thomas or Martha, keeping my eyes on my daughter as I sip my very needed coffee.
Twenty minutes later, the four of us are piling into Thomas’ car and heading to the school. I do my best to focus on talking to Maggi about anything that comes to mind, anything to distract myself from a milestone moment Eric had been excited about.
At the school, Martha and Thomas hug Maggi goodbye and wish her luck, and then I take her hand and walk inside. I’m preparing for a messy goodbye, but after our hug she says, “Bye, Mommy,” and turns to join other kids already sitting on the carpet, without looking back.
“That’s my brave girl,” I can hear Eric say so clearly I look to my left in time to see another parent step beside me.
“It’s always harder on us,” she says. “First one?”
I nod and quickly wipe my eyes, trying to appear braver than I am. “Big day,” I sniffle.
The woman’s head tilts when she clocks my accent, and I know she’s about to ask if I’m Am—
“American?”
“Canadian, actually.”
“Oh, I love Canada. I’m Ally.” She sticks her hand out.
“Blythe.”
“So, Blythe, do you want to join a few of us for an annual first-day brekky?”
My immediate reaction is to decline, but then I realize that going out with strangers may be better than going back to the house with my in-laws. Besides, I need to start meeting people, and who better than the parents of the kids my kid is going to go to school with?
“That would be great,” I say. “I just need to let my in-laws know. They gave us a ride today.”
“Awesome, I’ll come out with you and then give you a ride over. Everyone is going to be so excited to have a Canadian in the group.”
I laugh nervously as I look over at Maggi one last time before following Ally down the hall, not knowing what exactly they’d be excited about.
Maybe they’ll want to know the secrets of maple syrup or to see if we’re really all as nice as people say.
Or perhaps, they’ll want to know if I know Shirley in Vancouver.
Now, if they ask if I know Sam in Vancouver, I could actually say yes.
Then I would tell them I wish Sam in Vancouver would become Sam in Glasgow because no matter how much I try and deny it, I spend far too much time wishing he’d do what he wanted to and come back.
I’m so grateful that Ally is with me when I approach Martha and Thomas because they’re too distracted by my new friend to comment on my obvious emotional distress. I highly doubt I could have held it together if one of them said something or, god forbid, hugged me.
They tell me to have fun, as if I’m a teenager. It’s not a feeling I welcome and it makes me even happier that I’ll have my own place soon.
“They’re adorable,” Ally says while we walk away.
“Yeah, they’re pretty great.”
“My in-laws would never be here for my kids' first days. My husband was here for Callum’s but after that he didn’t see the point in missing work for the younger two.
” She scoffs while she pulls out onto the road.
“So I get to deal with the emotional turmoil alone. I was far better today with Fiona than I expected to be.”
There’s something about Ally’s husband choosing not to partake in this ritual that has me blinking back tears for an entirely different reason than earlier. Even if we had ten kids, Eric would have never missed a first day of school if he could help it.
“Is she your youngest?” I ask, trying to focus on something else.
Ally nods. “The youngest and the most independent. I figured it would be easy for her, I think that helped prepare me.”
“Maggi’s my only and it was about as hard as I figured it would be,” I admit as my fingers curl around the strap of my purse. So much for changing the subject.
“Well, you only have to do the very first day once then. It won’t be nearly as hard after today, I promise.”
“That’s good to know.”
It’s not long before we’re pulling over and Ally is leading the way to a funky little cafe. Four women and two men stand when we walk in greeting Ally enthusiastically before she turns and introduces me to the group.
“This is Blythe. Her daughter Maggi started today. They’re from Canada.”
They all introduce themselves in turn, each sharing some anecdote about Canada.
“So, is your husband Scottish?” Emily, a stay-at-home mom, asks.
He is, or he was… I’m never sure how to answer this question. “He was,” I say, my eyes darting around the table, gauging the reactions of others. Catherine, an artist, is the only one who seems confused at first, and I hate that she’s the one I’m looking at as realization sets in.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ally whispers beside me.
“It’s okay. It was two years ago. We were here for my sister-in-law’s wedding and being around his family felt like the right move for Maggi. And me,” I tack on. “It’s nice to have the help.”
“They’re busy at that age,” Peter, a cardiologist who blocks off the first day of school every year so he can be there, says. “The twins were constantly on the go and I don’t know what I would have done without my parents.”
Emily mouths “divorce” from across the table and I’m thankful to have been saved from asking for clarification.
“I can’t imagine two Maggis.” I laugh, feeling my face heat when Peter smiles back at me.
He reminds me a bit of Eric with his tall, lean stature and calm demeanor.
His brilliant blue eyes linger on me and paired with the smile, I feel myself start to relax.
That’s a good quality for a doctor to have, I think.
Thankfully, conversation turns to other topics.
I learn about which teachers I’ll want Maggi to have and which ones to avoid.
Mercifully there is only one teacher they all agree I’ll want to steer clear of entirely, if possible.
And by the end of breakfast, I have seven new numbers in my phone and an invitation to dinner with a cardiologist.