Chapter 22 Angeni Luna
Angeni Luna
Do not let others shame you out of being the best possible mother for your child.
Angeni figured if the @nurture.mother.official account was creating content in direct response to her content, she could create content in direct response to theirs.
It wasn’t healthy to perpetuate this circular exchange of passive-aggressive energy, but there was also a satisfaction to it, and her soul felt desperate for satisfaction in whatever form she could get it.
She and Erik needed repair. Angeni spoke often of the importance of repair after fights.
So often, relationships were destroyed not by fights but by insufficient repair.
Repair, when done well, could bring a couple closer.
It could make them see, with the benefit of hindsight, that the fight was actually good for their relationship.
A quote from one of her webinars: “A relationship without repair will never last.”
The thing was, she couldn’t bring herself to apologize to Erik.
This was their first big fight since having Freya.
Before Freya, they were each other’s priority.
They had the time and space to regulate their nervous systems and approach each other with kindness and compassion.
They almost always apologized simultaneously, one approaching the other and the other saying, “I was just going to come talk to you.” It was different now.
She was busy with Freya. She couldn’t help but think he should be the one coming to her.
She didn’t think she’d done anything wrong, except for sticking her middle finger in the air.
That had been childish, but she wasn’t even sure he’d seen it.
It would be simple enough to broach the subject of their tension, to say, “I know things have been difficult between us lately,” and let him take it from there—something they referred to as “the passing of the baton” in their relationship work—but she didn’t even want to do that.
She was wallowing in feeling bitter and misunderstood, soaking herself in it like it was an Epsom salt bath that had long ago gone cold.
When Sitka appeared in the kitchen for her usual breakfast of peanut-butter-and-jam toast, Freya clapped her little hands with joy. Every time Freya saw Sitka, she acted as if she hadn’t seen her in days.
“Morning,” Sitka said, opening the fridge. “Does Freya need to eat?”
“No, I just fed her,” Angeni said.
It was a lie. She had tried to feed Freya.
Her boobs were fuller than usual because Freya hadn’t cried to eat at her usual early-morning time.
They’d all slept—Angeni, Freya, Sitka—right until daybreak, which had never happened before.
Sitka had brought the baby to Angeni, elated at what a long stretch of sleep she’d had, but Angeni was worried that Freya had gone so long without eating.
She excused Sitka and put Freya on her boobs, but the baby’s head just bobbed about, her lips refusing to envelop Angeni’s nipples.
Angeni had tried to coax her on, pushing gently on the back of her head, but Freya kept thrashing about, turning her head this way and that.
Angeni couldn’t think of a reason for it.
Freya didn’t seem sick. Angeni hadn’t used a new soap on her body or eaten something unusual that would affect the scent of her milk.
Everything was the same as every other day, except for Freya’s disinterest.
Her daughter’s not-subtle rejection of her body was just one more reason for Angeni’s foul mood. Another reason: She had received an email from her editor that morning saying I’ve been thinking that your book would really do well as more of a memoir. Memoirs are all the rage right now. Thoughts?
She had only one thought: She could not write a memoir.
“I think I’m going to skip my writing time for today,” Angeni told Sitka.
Sitka had put her two pieces of sourdough on a plate, going through the motions she went through every morning. She always put the jam on the left slice of bread first, then the peanut butter on the right. She didn’t press them together like a sandwich, but ate each piece individually.
“Oh, okay,” Sitka said. “So Freya will be with you today?”
“Actually, I was hoping you’d still watch her. I have some things I want to do on The Land.”
Sitka shrugged like she couldn’t care less and said, “Sure, yeah.”
After eating her own breakfast of homemade granola and raw milk, Angeni went to the hall closet and pulled the duffel bag from the back of it.
It was heavier than she remembered. Behind the duffel bag was the safe.
She spun the dial to unlock it and pulled out a box of ammo.
It had been so long since she’d gone shooting.
She heaved the bag over her shoulder and made her way outside via the door in their bedroom. She didn’t want to have to pass by Sitka and Freya and have them ask what she was doing.
“Ang?”
It was Aurora’s voice. Angeni turned to see her coming toward her.
“I was just looking for you,” Aurora said. Her eyes went to the duffel bag. “Do you need help with that?”
It must have been obvious that Angeni was straining a bit under the weight.
“No, thank you. I’m good,” she said.
“Are you going . . . shooting?” Aurora asked.
Aurora wasn’t stupid—she still recognized Angeni’s shooting bag after all these years. She’d always thought Angeni’s hobby was strange, and the current tone of her voice revealed that that opinion hadn’t changed.
“Shooting? No. These are just some gardening tools. Was going to see about pulling some weeds in that back corner of The Land.”
The lie came easily. Angeni jutted her chin toward the east end of the property, and Aurora turned to look.
“Oh,” Aurora said, her skepticism still obvious. “Do you want help? Company?”
“No, no. I think it’ll help me clear my head if I’m alone,” Angeni said. “Trying to get in the zone so I can write later.”
“Of course,” Aurora said.
She stayed standing there, though.
“Did you need something?” Angeni asked.
Aurora looked down, started turning her hands over each other. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Angeni sighed and set the duffel bag on the ground.
“What is it?”
“I don’t want to upset you, with all you have going on,” Aurora said. “But I feel like it would be wrong not to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
Angeni felt her heart rate accelerate. This was her body in the hypervigilant state it had been in when she was a child. All her healing . . . was it coming undone?
“Maybe we should sit,” Aurora said, looking around helplessly for appropriate seats.
Angeni sat atop the duffel bag, and Aurora, seeing no other alternative, sat on the ground across from her.
“What is it? You’re making me nervous,” Angeni said.
She still wasn’t sure that Aurora wasn’t the one who had called into the podcast, making that vague threat by questioning her past. There’d been an awkward distance between them since. She assumed that was what Aurora wanted to discuss.
“I want you to know that I’m not bringing this to your attention as gossip, but out of concern,” Aurora said.
Angeni’s throat felt suddenly dry. She swallowed.
“I couldn’t sleep the other night, and I got up for tea. When I came inside, Erik and Sitka were in her room. Together. I guess Erik was having some insomnia issues, and they, like, talk?”
Angeni willed her face to stay soft and calm.
Erik and Sitka, talking at night. She knew Erik had insomnia at times.
It wasn’t unusual for him to get up for tea.
She hadn’t heard him get out of bed lately because she’d been sleeping so soundly.
But it was possible he had. It was possible Sitka was up, too, with Freya.
“He does have bouts of insomnia,” Angeni said evenly.
“Yeah, so I guess they’re like insomnia buddies or whatever. God, it sounds silly as I’m saying it to you,” Aurora said with an uneasy laugh. “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”
Angeni hadn’t known, and she wanted more information, but she couldn’t let Aurora know she had any doubts or worries. Doing so felt like pulling a thread on a delicate tapestry.
“Thank you for letting me know, Ror, but it’s nothing to worry about,” Angeni said. “Erik does have insomnia, and we all know what a social being he is. He’s been wanting to make Sitka feel more included.”
Angeni was talking to herself as well as to Aurora.
The truth was that the idea of Erik and Sitka hanging out while everyone slept was disquieting, if it was really happening.
What if Aurora was lying, trying to turn Angeni against Sitka?
Angeni had never known Aurora to have a malicious streak before. Was Sitka that much of a threat to her?
“Right, okay, that makes sense,” Aurora said.
“I really value you,” Angeni said, looking into Aurora’s eyes. “You know that, right?”
Aurora smiled, said, “Yeah, I know. I really value you too. That’s why I wanted to make sure you knew about this. But you knew, I can see that now. You and Erik tell each other everything.”
They both laughed, but there was still an odd tension between them.
“Well, enjoy your gardening,” Aurora said, nodding toward the duffel bag. Did she say it with a hint of sarcasm, or was Angeni imagining that?
“Thank you,” Angeni said as Aurora turned and headed back toward the house.
The far-east corner of The Land was overgrown, dense with misty forest. On eleven acres of land, there was only so much maintenance that was feasible.
She had come to accept that parts of the property would always be wild.
Maybe that was what she loved most about this place she called home—the sheer impossibility of taming it.