Nineteen
nineteen
SO CONTAGIOUS - ACCEPTANCE
CALLIE - MAY 25, 2013
O nce I hear Sara stirring awake, it snaps me out of the warm, easy conversation with Owen. The two hours since I laid her down have flown by, but now it's time to return to reality. I glance at my phone and feel a tug of disappointment. Talking to Owen has been a brief escape from the mess of everything else.
"Back to the chaos," I mumble, setting my phone down and heading inside to get Sara. She’s blinking awake, her tiny arms stretching as she murmurs, “Mama.” Her soft, warm body curls into mine as I lift her from the crib, and for a moment, the stress of everything else melts away. Her thumb finds its way to her mouth, and she rests her head on my shoulder.
I carry her into the living room and grab my phone from the porch, noticing another message from Owen:
Owen:
Listen, it’s not my fault, it’s science. There’s just something about a cheerleading uniform that is programmed in straight men’s DNA.
A laugh escapes me. He’s still hung up on the cheerleader comment. As if on cue, another message pops up:
Owen:
Hey, Callie… I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just messing around.
I quickly type back, feeling a twinge of guilt that I left him hanging.
Me:
You’re okay! Sorry, Sara woke up from her nap and I left my phone on the porch.
Owen:
Okay, good deal. I was worried that my cheerleader comment made it weird.
Me:
Nah, it’s going to take more than that to scare me off. It’s sweet that you were worried about it though.
Owen:
I can be a bit sweet from time to time. Just don’t tell anyone. It’s bad for my image.
I smirk, still amazed at how easy it is to talk to him.
Owen:
I had a really nice time talking to you today. Let’s do it again soon?
Me:
Definitely. Have a good rest of your night, Owen. I’m going to go see what my dad and stepmom are planning for dinner tonight and offer to help them out.
Owen:
You sure that’s a good idea? A little birdie told me that you’re a terrible cook.
Me:
Fair point. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
Owen:
Looking forward to it.
A warmth settles over me as I put my phone down, but there’s also an unexpected edge of sadness. The easy banter with Owen has been refreshing, something I didn’t realize I needed. And the fact that he’s hot as sin doesn’t hurt either.
The rest of the New Orleans trip flies by in a blur of laughter and family moments. We squeeze in a steamboat cruise on the Mississippi, soaking in the jazz music, and by the time we return to Dad’s, we’re all exhausted but happy.
The car ride back to Iowa is long but uneventful. Taylor and I take turns driving while Sara naps in the backseat. As the familiar sight of Hawkridge comes into view, I can feel the weight of real life creeping back in. My ultrasound appointment looms ahead.
The sterile clinic air hits me as I lie back on the exam table. Adam insisted on coming, and I was too tired to argue. When the tech announces we’re having another girl, Adam’s face twists in frustration .
"Seriously?" He mutters, red creeping up his neck. His outburst in the small, quiet room is embarrassing, but it’s also a reminder—a painfully clear one—of why I’m fighting so hard to end this marriage.
By the time Thursday rolls around, I’m sitting in my attorney’s office, surrounded by paperwork. The proof of Adam’s infidelity sits in a neat pile in front of me. The lawyer’s confirmation that we can expedite the divorce feels like a lifeline.
Later, Brooke helps me navigate setting up with DHHS. As we stand in line, I feel a wave of gratitude and shame all at once. There’s a stigma that lingers around state aid, but I push the guilt aside. My kids deserve everything I can give them, and I won’t let pride get in the way.
Friday has arrived, and I find myself back at the coffee shop for another shift. The steady stream of customers and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee helps keep my mind occupied. Throughout the week, I’ve continued to chat with Owen. Our conversations have been a bright spot amid the chaos, his words offering a sense of normalcy and comfort. Each message from him brings a smile to my face, and I’ve realized how much I look forward to our talks.
Just as I’m leaving work, my phone buzzes with a text message.
Owen:
Hey Callie, I hope you’re having a good day at work! I’m headed to pick up Barrett so I might not have much chance to talk to you tonight.
Me:
I’m actually just about to clock out. Thanks for letting me know so I didn’t think you’d gotten sick of me already if you don’t reply. I hope you and Barrett have a fantastic night. Drive safe.
Owen:
Thanks, I’m really looking forward to it.
Me:
I think it’s admirable you don’t let your phone get in the way of spending time with your son.
Owen:
Just doing my job… Also, there’s something I’ve been thinking about…
Oh boy. The ellipses are never a good thing. I hope I haven’t been coming on too strong. When he and I started talking just under a week ago, I was really only looking for friendship, if anything.
But as much as we’ve gotten to know each other, I can’t deny that I’m really drawn to him. There’s just something about Owen that pulls me in and I smile every time I hear from him. He makes me laugh and having a sense of humor is something that I find so attractive.
I’ve only seen a couple of pictures of him but there’s no denying that he’s incredibly attractive. What I find so strange is that I have always said that I hate facial hair. Every time Adam would go a few days without shaving, I was constantly nagging him about it. But something about Owen and that full beard just does things to me and I cannot help but wonder what his beard would feel like between my legs.
Oh my God. Yep, I just went there.
Blaming it on pregnancy hormones, I try to shake it off and focus my attention back on what those three little dots are going to lead to.
Me:
Sure, what’s up? Also – you’re not texting and driving are you?
Owen:
Nope, haven’t left quite yet.
I know things have been getting a bit more intense in our conversations lately. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find you incredibly attractive.
More fucking ellipses. That means there’s a really big ‘but’ coming.
Owen:
But, I think given the distance between us, it probably makes the most sense that we remain friendly instead of trying to pursue anything further. I work so much and already have a lot of drive time with picking up Barrett and dropping him off.
Reading his message, a pang of disappointment hits me. But I get it.
Me:
Plus, I’m in the opposite direction… I get it. It makes sense. Mighty presumptuous of you to think I needed this talk though.
Owen:
Honestly, I think I felt I had to lay it out there because well… I like you, Callie. I just don’t see how it could be anything more when we haven’t even been able to steal ten minutes to FaceTime.
Me:
I like you too, Owen. And I’m glad to call you a friend. Besides, I was getting tired of all those swoon-worthy texts anyway. Too much sweetness is bad for my teeth.
Owen:
Swoon- worthy, huh?
I’m really glad too. You’re an amazing person, Callie. And I love our chats. I just think this is what’s best for now.
Me:
I appreciate your honesty. Really. Have a great time with Barrett. Talk soon?
Owen:
Definitely. Take care, Callie.
Putting down my phone, I feel a wave of emotion wash over me. The disappointment is hard to shake, even if Owen is right. The distance between us makes things a bit more complicated. And I know I have enough on my plate without adding a long-distance relationship to the mix, especially with someone I have never met in person.
This just feels like the first of many rejections I’m likely to face in the future as a single mom with too much baggage. I take a deep breath and try to center myself before leaving the coffee shop.
This week, I have also been focused on planning Sara’s first birthday party for this Sunday. Emotions well up as I think about it more. This isn’t something I ever imagined doing without her dad. Adam wanted to have a joint party for her, but after his outburst at the ultrasound appointment, I told him there was no way that was happening. I was the only one who had been putting any effort into planning it anyway. I am determined to make it a special day for Sara, despite everything. And he’s not going to ruin it for her.
Sara’s first birthday party is a colorful burst of joy, set against the backdrop of a warm June day at the local park. The grassy area is alive with the laughter of children playing on the nearby playground, their excited squeals blending with the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze. A large pavilion, shaded by tall, ancient trees, serves as the gathering spot for family and friends. The picnic tables are draped in pastel-colored tablecloths, and bright balloons bob in the air, tied to the corners of the tables. Streamers in pink, yellow, and blue sway gently in the breeze, adding to the festive atmosphere.
The centerpiece of the decorations is a whimsical, two-tiered cake adorned with delicate sugar flowers and a fondant topper in the shape of a tiny tiara, perfect for the little princess of the day. Nearby, a table is laden with food and drinks, offering everything from finger sandwiches to fresh fruit and lemonade. It’s simple but sweet, just like I imagined.
Guests start to arrive, filling the pavilion with chatter and warmth. Taylor is here, her blonde hair pulled back into a casual ponytail, chatting animatedly with Brooke, who is fussing over Sara’s outfit–a cute, ruffled dress in soft pink that complements the theme. My mom stands off to the side, her eyes scanning the surroundings, a mixture of pride and worry etched on her face. Things like this always make her so high-strung. Beside her is Wayne, my step-dad, his arm casually draped over her shoulder as they watch the kids play. It’s a picture of familial comfort.
Ava, my niece, is here too, bouncing around with the kind of energy that makes me jealous of the spunky little four-year-old. She’s got a balloon in one hand and a cupcake in the other, her face smeared with frosting. I can’t help but smile at the sight of her, so full of innocence.
I want everything to be perfect for Sara, for this day to be about her and the incredible year we’ve shared since she made me a mommy. But when Adam shows up uninvited, my heart sinks. His presence is like a dark cloud over the sun, casting a shadow on what is supposed to be a bright, happy occasion.
I catch sight of him approaching, a grin plastered on his face as if he belongs here, as if he has been a part of planning this party all along. He strolls up with a couple of large, wrapped presents in hand, the kind that scream ‘I spend a lot of money on this’ rather than ‘I know what my daughter would love.’ It’s infuriating, the way he manages to insert himself into the day without a second thought.
Wayne sees him and sends me a look that silently asks if I want him to get rid of him. But I give him a subtle shake of my head when I see Sara running toward him, so excited to see her dad. She grabs him around the ankles and I cannot help but smile when she plops her little butt down on his shoe and wraps her leg around his tattooed calf forcing him to carry her on his leg as he walks.
The party carries on around us, the kids laughing as they chase each other on the grass, the adults mingling and catching up. But all I can see is Adam, moving through the gathering like he owns the place, acting like the doting father he hasn’t been lately. He laughs and jokes with everyone, pretending as if nothing is wrong.
I stand by the food table, gripping a cup of lemonade so tightly that the plastic starts to crumple in my hand. Taylor notices and gives me a sympathetic look, but there’s nothing she can say that will make this better. This was supposed to be a day about Sara, about celebrating her first year of life, but now it feels tainted.
Adam finally chooses to acknowledge my existence and starts walking over, that same smug grin on his face. “Hey, Callie,” he says, as if we’re old friends rather than two people waiting for our divorce to be finalized.
“Adam,” I reply, forcing a tight smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I couldn’t miss my daughter’s first birthday,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And I brought some gifts. She’s going to love them.”
“Today is about spending time with her, not about how much money you spent.”
He shrugs, unfazed by my tone. “I just want to make sure she has everything she needs.”
I want to scream. But I bite my tongue, knowing that causing a scene won’t do anyone any good.
Adam lingers for a while, talking to some of the other guests, showing off the gifts he bought like he’s some kind of hero. All but one of the toys he bought are things she won’t be able to use for years because they are too old for her. But I don’t say anything. I try to focus on Sara, who is blissfully unaware of the tension around her. She’s sitting in her high chair, giggling as Brooke hands her the top tier of the birthday cake which serves as her “smash cake.”
Adam gets ready to leave as soon as Sara is done with her cake–leaving me to clean up the mess, like always. I hear him make a comment to my mom about how it’s his new girlfriend Katie’s birthday too so he has dinner plans.
Yep, it’s only been a couple days since Janelle dumped him and Adam already has a new girlfriend. I would bet my left kidney that he was already talking to Katie while he was dating Janelle. He always seems to have a backup plan when it comes to relationships.
By the time the party winds down, I’m exhausted. I pack up the leftover food and the mountain of gifts, making a mental note to sort through everything later. Taylor and Brooke help me clean up, while my mom and Wayne take Sara and Ava to the playground for a bit longer.
Once everything is packed up, I stand in the now-empty pavilion, taking a deep breath. The day didn’t go exactly as planned, but as I watch Sara toddle over to me, her face still smeared with cake and her eyes shining with happiness, I know that it was still a success. The day was for her, and in the end, that’s all that matters.