9. 9
9
B efore I can blink, it’s Wednesday night again.
Caleb appears at my front door, and Dahlia runs to hug me like usual. I splatter kisses all over her face until she’s a giggling mess and has to push me away.
She says goodbye to her dad with a quick hug and a promise to see him in a few days, as if he doesn’t know that already.
“Can we chat?” Caleb asks once Dahlia goes running to her bedroom.
“What do you need?” I ask with a sigh. It’s never anything good. He seemed eager to have Dahlia for that extra night, but if he thinks he deserves something in return for stepping up as a dad? He has another thing coming. It’s been a lot less often recently, but things were rough when we first agreed to our custody schedule. Caleb had something come up every other week. I missed so much work. I depended on my parents for more than they should have had to give.
Which is why I’ll never understand how much they still love the guy.
He gestures to the chairs next to us.
“The last time you asked me to sit down, you wanted me to meet your girlfriend,” I say.
“I know you didn’t love that, and you’re probably not going to love this,” he admits.
Shit .
I sit down anyway, just willing this interaction to be over. I shouldn’t have to see him for more than a few seconds at a time.
“It’s a big ask,” he starts.
“Then don’t ask it.”
A cold wind attacks the space on my porch then, hitting my bare ankles with a sting. I wince, and mentally blame my ex-husband for the discomfort. I wouldn’t be out here if it weren’t for him.
“Do you want to go inside?”
“Alone, yes.”
He shakes his head, but just pulls up his sweatshirt to cover his neck. His shoulders stay lifted to keep it in place.
“You know how my brother lives in Manitoba?”
I slowly nod.
“Turns out Raquel also has family there. A couple of aunts that she hasn’t seen in a few years.”
“And?” I press.
“And we want to go visit them. Spend some time with family for the summer,” he explains.
I roll my eyes.
“So you need me to keep Dahlia for a couple weeks? Sure. Whatever. Text me the dates.”
I stand from my seat, but he reaches out to grab my arm. I flinch away from him, falling back into the chair. He could’ve expressed himself without putting his hands on me, but I shake it off.
“That’s not it. We…” He clears his throat. “We want to bring her with us. I want him to meet his niece. He has kids, a couple of them around her age so that she would have friends to play with. It wouldn’t just be–”
“When?” I interrupt.
“May.”
“How long.”
“Uh… we were, uh–”
“Spit it out, Caleb. The dates.”
He looks so panicked that it rubs off on me a little.
“Her last day of school is the twenty-fourth. We were thinking of leaving that next week.” I watch him suck in an anticipatory breath before his next words. “And being there for a few weeks.”
I do what feels right in the moment. I laugh in his face.
“Reya–” I interrupt him by laughing even louder, my volume intentionally obnoxious. I see how ridiculous it is that he even asked, but I want him to see how ridiculous. I want him to go home with his tail tucked between his legs and never think to ask me any such thing again.
I’m not unreasonable. I’m not a grinch that doesn’t want my daughter to meet her distant family.
What’s unreasonable is asking me to let her leave for what? An entire month or more, of which her birthday falls in. She’s never spent a birthday without me, she’s not starting now.
“Get out of here,” I tell him, still laughing. I wipe a tear out from under my eye for extra measure.
“You’re being really immature, Reya. Why can’t we just have a conversation? Why do you have to laugh in my face?”
“Because it’s hilarious that you asked me that!”
His head shakes adamantly.
“It isn’t funny. I’m being serious. It could be a really good experience for her.”
“She could have a good experience in a couple of years, when she’s old enough to actually remember it,” I speculate. “ Or you could go for a few days , like normal people do on a normal vacation, and be back before her birthday.”
I think those are both very fair options, but he doesn’t look reassured by them. No, his face is stony and determined, and I don’t want to hear about this anymore.
“I haven’t seen them in years. They’ve never even met her,” he pleads with me.
“Okay?”
“I want to spend time with them. Significant time.”
“A week can be significant.”
“You’re being unreasonable.”
I scoff. “I’m the epitome of reason. I gave you options when all I really want is for you to stop bothering me with this and go on your merry way home.”
But of course, he’s not leaving yet. That would be too easy.
“We both have to be there to get her passport. I can’t do this without you being on board.”
This time when I abruptly stand, I have no intention of letting him stop me.
“I’m surprised you didn’t find a way to get it done without me, considering how much you like doing things behind my back.”
He stands too, not looking nearly defeated as I want him to.
“You can’t control what goes on when you’re not around. I don’t have to tell you anything unless it puts our daughter in danger, and guess what? Not once has she been. We have our issues. You don't trust me. Whatever. But I’m a good dad, and I make all of my decisions with her in mind. I wouldn’t have brought Raquel into the equation if I had even the slightest doubt about our relationship, or who she is as a person.”
I walk to my door, grateful to hide my eye roll as I’m facing away from him. If there was someone from the outside looking in, I would look like the bad guy. I would look like the most unreasonable mom on the planet.
I don’t think I’ll ever get over the amount of conversations we’ve had where he was inconsiderate, and rude, and put me in a bad position. There are too many to count. So maybe he’s finally grown up a bit, but I don’t have to give in to what he wants just to be the nice guy.
“That all sounds very noble of you, but this act is a little too late. You’re right, I barely trust you to look out for her when she’s ten minutes away. It stresses me out constantly ,” I tell him. “You can learn how to compromise if you’re so set on this, but even then… I just really don’t want it to happen, honestly. At all. I don’t expect you to care what I’d go through in the time you’d have her away, but it wouldn’t be pretty.”
“I do care. I’m not this twisted villain you make me out to be. I’ve been compromising with you for years now.”
I shake my head, turning back to face him one last time before I know I’ll be ending the conversation.
“I’m sure you’ll probably always feel guilty for the way you treated me when Dahlia was born, but that doesn’t make it go away for me. Seems like you’re ignoring it pretty well, out of self preservation, I’m guessing. I can’t. I worry every day that you’ll shut down on her too. You haven’t done nearly enough for either of us to prove to me otherwise. I am reasonable, dude. I look at it as a possibility, but it hasn’t happened yet. I don’t think it’ll happen for a long time.”
“How have I not done enough? She’s taken care of—“
“Under your roof! I spent years struggling to pay my rent, and all that was for you was a chance to fight the custody arrangement. You never thought about the fact that my daughter and I needed each other, and maybe could’ve used a little help. But little, spoiled Caleb would think of every single possibility in the world before doing anything to help the mother of his child.”
He starts to respond heatedly, but I put a hand up.
“I have dinner in the oven, I’m done with this conversation.”
I open my door, and then I close it softly behind me. I’m angry, but never angry enough to frighten Dahlia. I take a few seconds to breathe, and push that interaction from my mind.
He’s crazy if he thinks he’s getting his way here.
The music is back. I thought that finding out about Dahlia would’ve been the thing to change her ways, but of course that would’ve been too easy.
I even managed to get her into her own bed, after hours of her fighting it. I sat on the floor next to her, and I read her books. I put all of her favorite toys around her, and I tucked her in so nicely. She cried a lot, and it was so hard, but we eventually got there. She was out and snoring, and I snuck away to my own bedroom to enjoy a full night of sleep.
I slept for an hour. I heard Dahlia crying first, and I ran to her in a panic before realizing what else I was hearing. That damned music woke her up, and terrified her. Who wouldn’t be terrified in this situation?
“Shh, it’s okay baby. It’s okay, sweet girl.”
She’s gasping out words in between her sobs, but I can’t make all of it out. Something about being tired and scared.
This is not okay. This is what I’ve been dreading more than anything about our current situation. I didn’t want it to hurt her .
I move around the apartment, grabbing a couple things we’ll need in the morning. Toothbrushes, a pair of leggings and a t-shirt for each of us, Dahlia’s favorite stuffed animal and her blanket. She dozes off at one point, until a new song starts up with even more thumping bass and she resumes crying.
I feel like crying right here with her.
I load her into the car with promises of sleep, and quiet, and getting to see grandma and grandpa in the morning. It barely calms her down, but two minutes in the car and she’s out again.
We shouldn’t be in the car right now. We shouldn’t have to flee the home that we pay for and have lived in a lot longer than that rude, inconsiderate, piece of–
I blow out a long exhale, not wanting to work myself up anymore than I already am. I need to focus on getting to our destination safely.
It is a challenge to get Dahlia out without waking her, and to not move her around too much as I unlock the door and get us inside.
To my surprise, I see my dad standing at his kitchen counter with a glass of water in hand. He looks less surprised to see me here. We smile at each other, but I go put Dahlia down in a bed before I even attempt to say a word. He must know better too, because he waits quietly while I walk down the hall.
“Bad night?” he asks when I’m back in the kitchen with empty arms.
“So bad.”
I hug him tightly, and we just stand like that for a minute. I feel like I’m a little kid again, being comforted after a bad dream. This time I only wish it was a bad dream, instead of my painful reality.
“You’ve got to do something about it, sunshine. You can’t let them drive you out of your house.”
“I tried,” I whine. “Tim isn’t going to do anything. I guess her dad told him she was depressed, so he doesn’t want to bother her for the foreseeable future.”
I finally let go, and jump up to sit on the counter. Another thing that makes me feel like a little kid again. If my mom was awake, she’d yell at me to get my butt down. She always did back then. My dad just chuckles like he’s also remembering all those years ago. Little Reya with her bright blonde hair, and big attitude.
“You have other options. You haven’t talked to her about it, have you?”
“She’s like, impossible to talk to. I’ve never even run into her coming and going from her apartment. The only proof I have of her existence, other than seeing her drive that car, is the music and the notes.”
“If you don’t want to call the police on her, you’re going to have to put your foot down a little harder. Have you even knocked on her door during the day?” he asks.
“Well… no.”
“Why is that? Are you scared of her?”
Am I? For some reason I don’t feel completely set on saying no to that question.
“I don’t think so,” I answer.
“Why do you have to think about it? You are or you’re not.”
“I’m too tired.”
He pats my shoulder a couple times, and gives me a smile that looks too pitiful for my liking.
“You’re not helpless. Stop worrying about inconveniencing her, when she’s obviously not worried about doing the same to you and Dahlia. If you don’t stop this now, it’s not going to stop.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
“You forget that I raised you. It is easy. You have more fire and determination in your pinky than most people have in their entire bodies. Use it.”
My heart could burst. I’m so lucky to have such amazing parents that believe in me so much.
“I love you, dad.”
“I love you too, sunshine. Get some rest.”
Clearly you don’t care that my daughter exists, because you so rudely woke her up late last night with your music, and she cried her head off. Messing with my life was one thing, but messing with hers is going to be a problem.
I’d LOVE to discuss things in person with you, but you’ve done a really good job at avoiding me. Want to drop the stubborn crap and do a single mom a favor? I’m sure we can compromise here.
Unless of course you’re actually a ghost, in which case I kindly ask that you haunt a different building.
Thanks.
I don’t want to disrupt Dahlia’s schedule too much, so I let her take the bus home for the rest of the week. We hang out there, make dinner, watch some of her favorite shows, and play with her favorite toys. As soon as the sun sets, we head back to my parents to sleep. She hasn’t complained for a second, and I could cry at how relieved I am to have such a good kid. She’s a lot more patient and gracious than I am, because I am pissed about not being able to sleep in my own bed. I want to throw all kinds of fits about it. Stomping my feet and screaming my head off sounds so good right about now, and it makes me all the more grateful that I don’t have to handle it from her.
Maybe that’s why she is the way she is. The universe knew that there was only room for one big baby in our lives, and it was never an option for me to give up that title.
I expect to finally find a response to my previous note when we leave the house on Friday, but there’s nothing. She took my note and didn’t bother to answer because I was right.
She’s avoiding me.