4. 4
4
A moving truck is blocking my car. Again.
Except this time, I have a dinner date with my ex-husband’s girlfriend, and I really don’t want to be late.
I don’t see anyone sitting in it, and there isn’t anyone outside. I look to the front door of the apartment next to me and grimace. Odds are good that the culprit is in there, and I’m going to have to meet my new neighbors right now. I’m not thrilled to start out our relationship by asking them for a favor.
I have no choice, there’s no way I can squeeze my car out of the lot without causing tens of thousands of dollars in damage. I did think about it for a split second, and decided it’s not worth it.
I knock on the door and wait. I don’t hear any voices or footsteps. It’s not a good sign, because if no one’s here then I don’t know how the hell I’m going to find the person responsible for keeping me trapped.
The parking space is located in a very inconvenient spot. It’s pretty ridiculous that this has happened twice now. Maybe I should ask Ted if I could swap. The woman below me doesn’t even own a car. She rides a bike that she locks up in her backyard.
Yeah, the downstairs neighbors are lucky enough to have yards. I freaking wish.
I turn and stomp away, mentally preparing to ask someone for a ride. Either of my friends would say yes in a heartbeat, but I’m always hesitant to ask. Vic, because her hands are so full with two kids, and another on the way. Autumn, because she is also very pregnant, and she’s not having an easy go of it. Her morning sickness missed the memo that it’s supposed to end after the first trimester.
And that it’s only supposed to happen in the morning.
Before I can become desperate enough to reach out to my parents for a ride, the door opens behind me.
I spin so fast it’s dizzying, with a huge smile plastered to my face.
“Can I help you?” The older man asks, eyeing my bright pink hair with a curious expression. I realize he’s the same one that was standing out here the other day.
“Hi! My name is Reya, I live next door.”
I put a hand out for him to shake and he thankfully goes right for it.
“Pierre. My kid is moving in here.”
He nods to the doorway behind him, but makes no move to go find this kid and introduce me. As long as they’re not a teenage boy, we should be good.
“It’s so great to meet you! That’s so exciting.” I give him finger guns, because why? I actually don’t know, I’m thinking too hard. “I hate to bother you on such a big day, but the moving truck down there is blocking my car in.”
I point down to where we can see the back end of my little black car. And the back end of the big truck blocking it.
“Goodness, that won’t do,” he says. I don’t know which part won’t do, but I hope it’s the one where I’m unable to leave. I will be late to this dinner, my time management already wasn’t great. I gave myself a whole thirty seconds to spare, and that’s been used up.
“Let me grab those keys so you can get on your way.”
I breathe a sigh of relief.
“That would be awesome. Thank you so much.”
I awkwardly follow him when he comes back out and heads down the stairs. He gets in the truck and moves it without a word, and I get in my car without waiting for one. I send a friendly wave in his direction as I pass, but I can’t tell if he saw me.
Hopefully by tomorrow I’ll uncover the mystery of who his child is, and have my chance to make a good first impression.
I recognize her immediately.
Of course I’ve looked at her Instagram. She doesn’t post her face much, but a selfie taken approximately six months ago with the tiniest orange kitten I’ve ever seen gave me enough to search for. The rest of her pictures are of sunsets, and waterfalls, and destinations I wouldn’t go to the effort to get to.
Do not get me wrong, I love a nice view. I love nature. I went camping all the time as a kid.
But as a single mom in my late-twenties, that works full-time: I don’t exercise. Which means if someone tried to drag me on a hike, I’d probably collapse within minutes.
Even the stairs going up to my apartment are a challenge for me most days.
“You must be Raquel,” I say as I approach. I don’t always feel as confident as everyone thinks I am, but I hope she thinks I am. It’s not natural to have to meet the person who’s currently banging your ex. We as humans aren’t meant to put ourselves through things like this.
I’d put myself through a lot more for my daughter, but I really want to seem like I have my shit together while I do it.
“And you must be Reya.” She doesn’t stand, or offer to shake my hand. Her smile is polite enough, but I’m still taking away points.
Which means she is in the negative right off the bat.
I can’t help but start comparing the two of us, our appearances, as terrible as that is. I examine her for any signs of similarities between us, but I don’t think there’s a single one. From what I can see of her upper half, she’s fit. No surprise there. Her shoulders are tan, her jewelry is thick and gold. Her hair is dark and long. We could not look more different.
I find that I’m glad of it. How much worse would this be if the woman across from me also had cotton candy pink hair? It would be very weird.
“Thanks for meeting me like this. I think it’s so important that we’re all on the same page with Lia involved.”
“Lia?” I ask before thinking as I sit down across from her.
“Dahlia?” Her tone makes me feel like I’m a total moron for not knowing that.
I tilt my head.
Maybe I’m overreacting, but I’m already annoyed. I’m throwing on negative points like I have a million to spare.
Because I do. It’s a fictional point system that exists strictly in my head. I’ve thought of buying a white board, but I don’t want to stress out my friends.
It feels condescending. Almost as if this woman is trying to assume that I’m not interested in being on the same page. Like she is some savior for asking for this dinner, and I’m the difficult child that wouldn’t want to eagerly agree to this.
Maybe I didn’t, but not for any reason other than how uncomfortable I knew it would be. Even though there is zero chance of me feeling any kind of romantically about Caleb again, it’s weird to sit face to face with how he’s finally moving on.
And I’m already not a fan, and I don’t care if it’s because I’m overreacting to the first sentence she’s ever said to me.
“It’s interesting that you have a nickname for my daughter before you’ve even met her,” I say.
I know Caleb doesn’t use it, or at least he never has to me.
Her eyes widen a fraction, but I watch as she attempts to play it off and nods.
Yeah. No.
My ex-husband has lied to me so many times, and I refuse to let Raquel fall into the habit, too.
“So, you have met her,” I say in a tone that leaves no room for argument.
“Once,” she answers quickly. “Briefly. I had to grab something and didn’t realize you had already dropped her off—”
I fold my hands, and I must look quite menacing, because she quickly closes her mouth. I didn’t know I still had it in me.
“Can you do me a favor? Can you be fully honest from this point forward? For my daughter’s sake.”
I’m not a fool. These two will regret trying to make me feel like one.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “Caleb was fine with sneaking me around, but I really didn’t want to, I swear. That’s why I pushed for this. You deserve to know what’s going on when she’s not with you.”
“Has he asked her to lie to me?”
She hesitates for a few brief seconds, but nods.
I’m so filled with rage that I start shaking.
How dare he ? Not only convincing my baby to lie to me, but making it seem like it’s okay? She’s too young to have it in her head that there are some things she has to keep from her mom. I’m not supposed to be dealing with the secret keeping until her preteen years, which are so far away.
I thought I had more time.
Now I’m sitting across from a woman I don’t know, in a restaurant I don’t like, mentally berating myself for not being the kind of mom she would immediately run home and tell all of this to.
I don’t blame her for a second. I’m not upset with her. She’s young and impressionable, and I know she loves her dad so much.
I’m beyond upset with the adults here, and my feelings are so big and unwieldy at the moment that there’s plenty left to be upset with myself, too.
“Look, you have a great kid. One who loves you so much, and gets so excited when it’s time for Caleb to drop her off that it hurts his feelings. He’s expressed to me that he doesn’t–” she stops for a moment, shaking her head. “Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I want you to understand. Nothing about this is okay, but he knows you’re her favorite. He knows he doesn’t have what two have.”
“His jealousy is no good reason to convince our child that it’s okay to lie to her mom.”
She nods. “I agree with that. I’ve tried telling him the same thing, I swear.”
“But that didn’t stop you from coming around.”
Her gaze falls to her hands where she fidgets with the rings she’s wearing. There are a lot of them. Her hands must get tired of carrying all that weight.
“At first it didn’t. I don’t expect you to forgive me for this reason, but maybe you’ll get it? Our relationship was new. I was a girl with a crush, trying to impress a guy that I was still getting to know. It didn’t seem like my place to question him, but it does now. It’s different now.”
“Why now?”
“Because I know him very well. I know Lia well. I know a lot more about you than I did. All three of you deserve better than this, and he realizes that, too.”
If she’s right and he has come to his senses, it makes sense that she was the convincing factor. He wouldn’t have gotten there on his own.
“What has he told you about me?”
“Not a lot. Just that you were both young, and life moved too fast for either of you to slow down and figure out what wasn’t working.” How insightful of him. “And he told me that you’re a…lesbian.”
She studies my face after saying the word. I can’t tell if it’s to check if I’m offended by it, or if she’s worried I might tell her he was lying.
If only she knew how little she had to worry about. I’m the least threatening ex-wife on the planet, at least in the way that you couldn’t pay me any amount of money to be interested in him again.
“Yep,” I confirm. “One of the few things I can thank him for helping me realize.”
In reality, it was much more complicated than that. It took me a long time after things ended between us to find myself.
I love being a mom. I let that become my only personality trait for the first couple years of Dahlia’s life.
When I found myself ready to date again, I didn’t know what I was even looking for. I thought I was bisexual for most of my life. I dated girls and boys in highschool, but none of those relationships were deep enough to make me wonder if I preferred one over the other.
I know now that the problem was dating in high school. We were all just kids. I had friends who seemed confident and sure of who they were, but I wasn’t self aware enough to even notice that I wasn’t sure. I never thought to question it until I started dating as an adult.
Sure, there are cute men out there. Some of them are really nice, and have much more exciting personalities than Caleb. I know that because I experienced it.
But women .
I just feel more connected to them, even the worst of them. I’m more attracted to their bodies and minds in every way. I felt more in the most casual of flings with women than I have with any man, despite the circumstances. The conversations are always deeper, the walls are always easier to knock down.
I know love and attraction are a spectrum. I don’t rule out the entire possibility of a man sweeping me off my feet, but I’d have to see it to believe it. And I absolutely won’t be waiting around for it to happen, when I am finally sure of who I am and what I feel. I picture my next love, my forever love, and I know deep down that it’s not going to be with a man.
“I actually don’t want to sit here and bash him. Enough time has passed, and I’ve wanted to see him move forward for a while now. Maybe I feel that way a little less at the moment with the information you’ve given me today, but still.” I look around for a second, hoping there’s a waiter nearby that could bring me a glass of water. There isn’t. This place has terrible service. “You’ll both have to sit down with Dahlia and explain that what you did was wrong. Apologize to her. Then we can go from there.”
“We will,” Raquel says. “Consider it done. And you deserve an apology too, I really am sorry.”
I shrug.
“I’m not ready to say it’s okay. Talk to her first.”
She nods, and I can tell she’s disappointed that I’m not relieving her of her guilt right this second.
With that, I give her a tight smile and grab my bag from the seat beside me.
“You’re going? You’re not going to eat?” she asks.
“The food here sucks. Have you had it?” Raquel shakes her head. “Great. Get out while you still can.”
She pauses, looking around the restaurant. She’s probably just now noticing the same thing: that no one’s appeared to get her drink order yet. When she stands, taking my advice, I clear my throat.
“Do you have kids?” I ask, not having considered that possibility.
“No,” she draws the word out like she’s confused.
“You don’t sound sure.”
She lets out a nervous laugh.
“Sorry, no. I really don’t.”
I nod, believing her.
“I want kids,” she adds. “At least two. We’ve talked about it being a possibility someday.”
I didn’t need to know that much, although Dahlia will absolutely love being a big sister.
“Ah,” I say uncomfortably. “That’s cool.”
Raquel frowns, and then she surprises me by cautiously putting her arms out, like she’s hoping I’ll be willing to hug. I’m not feeling very willing, but I am merciful. I don’t want to embarrass her.
I hug her. It’s weird. She says she hopes to talk soon, that she wants to know me better, and I mutter some noncommittal response.
My reaction to her is mixed. Complicated. This whole thing could be a big performance on her end, and she doesn’t actually care about any of it. Spending more time with her would probably help clear that up, but today’s not the day I’m going to agree to it.