Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Ryan
Six o'clock sharp. The alarm went off. I reached over and killed it, rolled out of bed. Sunlight sliced through the blinds, painting stripes across the floor.
I opened the fridge. Bacon, eggs, bread—Pedro's favorite breakfast combo. Soon, the sizzle from the pan filled the whole room.
"Mommy?"
I turned. Pedro stood in the kitchen doorway, rubbing his eyes, his black curls sticking up like a bird's nest.
"Morning, baby." I walked over and kissed his forehead. "Go wash up. Breakfast's almost ready."
He nodded and padded off to the bathroom, bare feet slapping against the floor. I watched him go, and the knot I'd carried all night finally loosened. Yesterday hadn't messed him up too badly. Thank God.
Pedro sat in his chair, focused on scooping cereal from his bowl. Milk dribbled down his chin. He didn't notice.
"Come on, we're gonna be late." I stood up and pushed him toward his shoes.
I dropped him off at preschool. Before he got out, he grabbed my arm.
"Mommy, if Daddy comes back today, you have to bring him to pick me up." Dead serious.
"I promise, baby." Another promise I'd break.
"Bye, Mommy." Pedro stood on his toes and kissed my cheek. I watched until he disappeared through the door.
Eight o'clock. I pushed through the glass doors of Lumina Child Psychological Rehabilitation Center. Sarah was already at the front desk, sorting through today's appointments.
"Morning, Dr. Harrison." She looked up and smiled. "Mrs. Thompson just called. Wants to know if she can move her appointment to three."
"Sure." I took the coffee she handed me. "What else today?"
"Two new patients this morning. Emma at ten."
Emma. Poor kid. Her parents' divorce had triggered separation anxiety. I nodded and headed to my office.
Emma arrived right on time. She clutched her mother's hand, eyes wide and scared.
"Hi, Emma." I crouched down and pulled out a stuffed rabbit. "Remember Mr. Bunny? He's been waiting for you."
Her eyes lit up. She reached for the rabbit.
"Can you tell Mr. Bunny what happened this week?" I guided her to the play area carpet.
"Daddy didn't come see me again." Her eyes went red.
"How does that make you feel?"
"Sad. And... and angry." She squeezed the rabbit. "Mommy says Daddy's busy, but I think he doesn't love me anymore."
My heart clenched. That feeling of abandonment—I knew it too well.
"Emma, look at me." I gently lifted her chin. "Grownups sometimes have a lot of trouble. But that trouble? It's got nothing to do with kids. Your daddy loves you. So does your mommy."
"Then why won't Daddy come see me?"
"Well..." I thought for a second. "Daddy's protecting the little bunny. Can you give Daddy some time?"
The next hour, I did role-playing games with Emma, let her act out different family members, and express what she felt inside. When she finally smiled, I breathed easier.
"Thank you so much, Dr. Harrison." Emma's mother grabbed my hand, eyes full of gratitude. "She's doing so much better."
"My pleasure. Emma's a brave girl."
Sarah walked over with an express package. "Dr. Harrison, this just came. From Boston."
After Emma and her mother left, I opened the envelope. A formal invitation.
"Dear Dr. Harrison,
We are honored to invite you as a keynote speaker at the Annual Conference on Child Psychology and Trauma Recovery..."
Boston Child Psychology Annual Conference. One of the most important academic conferences in the field.
"Oh my God!" Sarah saw the letter and squealed. "This is amazing! Do you know how many people would kill for this?"
I knew. This was every child psychologist's dream. If the speech went well, it wouldn't just boost my academic standing—it could bring more resources to the clinic.
"You're going, right?" Sarah asked.
Boston... only four hours from New York.
"Dr. Harrison?"
"I'll think about it."
My phone rang. Eleanor.
"Eleanor!"
"Oh, sweetheart. How are you? Work going okay?"
"Everything's fine." I leaned back in my chair. "Just busy."
"Don't wear yourself out." Her voice was full of concern. "How's my little Pedro? Is he okay?"
"He's good. Just keeps asking for his daddy." I rubbed my forehead. "And he got in a fight with another kid."
"That boy." Eleanor sighed. "Are you free this Sunday? Come over for dinner. I made Pedro's favorite chocolate chip cookies."
"Of course!" I didn't hesitate. "He'll be so excited."
"It's a date then." She paused, her voice softening. "Emily, don't carry all this alone. My husband died young, and I never had children. You two are my family."
My eyes stung. "I know, Eleanor. Thank you."
Eleanor Hawkins was the most precious gift life had ever given me.
She was a highly respected professor in Stanford's psychology department.
Back when every application I sent got rejected, I was sitting on a curb, lost, when I looked up and saw Eleanor getting mugged by street thugs.
I didn't think—just rushed in with some other good Samaritans and helped stop the guy from running.
Later, Eleanor learned about my background.
She was impressed by my solid professional foundation and moved by my desperate situation.
With her strong recommendation and backing, I not only passed the SAT but got accepted to Stanford as a special student, allowed to continue my studies.
Even more incredible—my tuition was fully covered by the academic scholarship fund under Eleanor's name.
Beyond that, she took care of me in life. After Pedro was born, Eleanor helped me look after him. In my heart, she was my grandmother.
Sunday evening, I brought Pedro to Eleanor's house. The old Victorian was surrounded by gardens, warm everywhere you looked.
"Grandma!" Pedro saw her and rushed over.
"My little angel!" Eleanor bent down and hugged him. "Come on, Grandma made your favorite chocolate chip cookies."
Pedro cheered and ran to the kitchen. Eleanor looked at me and smiled warmly. "You look like something's on your mind, dear."
We sat in the living room. I told her about the Boston conference.
"This is a wonderful opportunity!" Eleanor was almost excited. "You have to go, Emily. Your research can help so many children."
"But Pedro..."
"I can take care of him. You know how much I love this little guy."
"A whole week, Eleanor. He's never been away from me that long."
"That's exactly why you should go." She took my hand. "Dear, you can't trap yourself at his side forever. You need your own career. Your own life."
"I know, but..."
"No buts." She cut me off. "These four years, you've given up so many opportunities for Pedro. This time is different. This affects your academic future."
She was right. This opportunity was too important. Four years—Ronan must have given up looking for me by now, right?
"Okay." I made up my mind. "I'll go."
"That's my girl." Eleanor patted my hand. "When do you leave?"
I was about to answer when a scream came from the doorway.
"No!" Pedro's cookie hit the floor. "Mommy's leaving me?"
"Pedro..."
"You said you wouldn't leave!" He ran over crying. "You promised!"
"Baby, I'm not leaving you." I crouched down and hugged him. "Just going to work for a few days."
"Liar!" He pushed me away. "Grandma said a whole week! That's forever!"
Eleanor walked over. "Pedro, you can stay at Grandma's house. We can make cookies together, go to the zoo..."
"No!" He shook his head. "I want Mommy!"
"Baby, Mommy has to work—"
"I'll be good!" Pedro grabbed my clothes. "I promise I won't make noise! Mommy, take me with you!"
I looked at his tear-streaked face. My heart broke. Eleanor gently patted my shoulder. "Maybe bringing him isn't a bad idea. Let him see the world."
"But during the conference..."
"Boston has lots of places for kids." She smiled. "Children's Museum, the aquarium... You can take him between sessions."
"Please, Mommy!"
"Alright." I finally gave in. "But you have to promise to be good when Mommy's at meetings."
"I promise!" He broke into a smile and hugged me tight. "Thank you, Mommy! I love you so much!"
Back home, I started packing. Speech materials, formal clothes, and Pedro's stuff.
"Koala." I put his favorite stuffed animal in the suitcase.
"Mommy, and my dinosaur!" Pedro ran over with his T-rex toy.
"Okay." I took the toy. "And your little blanket, your storybooks..."
"And my drawing book!" He was excited. "I'm gonna draw Boston!"
I looked at the overflowing suitcase and laughed helplessly. Taking a three-year-old to an academic conference—this was definitely going to be a challenge.
"Mommy, does Boston have koalas?" Pedro suddenly asked.
I froze. "No, baby."
"Oh." He looked disappointed. "Then Daddy's not in Boston."
My heart tightened. For some reason, I felt uneasy. But I didn't have time to think about it. I still had to organize data and my speech.
Staring at the computer screen, I told myself this was the right decision. Four years. Time to move forward. Sure, Boston was close to New York. So what? I wasn't that Ryan anymore.