Chapter 6
Six
Amanda
I smile as Mia crawls to the couch and lifts herself up to standing.
She glances back at me to see if I’m watching before she continues her mission.
She grips the cushion with both hands, her tiny fingers pressing into the fabric as she steadies herself on shaking legs.
For a brief moment, she wobbles, her diapered bottom swaying from side to side as she tries to steady herself.
There’s no fear in her eyes, just determination as she glances over at me again and smiles.
“I see you,” I tell her, and she lets out a proud squeal, as if she can’t believe she was able to stand on her own. This isn’t the first time she’s done this, but every single time, it’s a celebration as if it were.
At almost ten months old, my sweet girl is happy and fearless. “You’re growing too fast,” I tell her, and that earns me another grin. She bounces again and almost loses her balance. Her little fingers grip a little tighter, and she manages to stay upright.
Every day seems to bring a new discovery.
She’s crawling everywhere now, and she’s fast, too.
What started as a hesitant scoot across the rug has turned into full-speed missions across the living room.
Nothing is out of reach anymore. She finds crumbs I didn’t know existed, spots tiny objects from across the room like a trained detective, and somehow always heads straight for the one thing she isn’t supposed to touch.
Last night, I stepped into the kitchen to grab my phone.
I was gone for less than a minute—I’m guessing thirty seconds, max—when I heard a crash, and then silence.
When I came back, the room was suspiciously quiet after the sound I had just heard.
The kind of quiet that makes a parent’s heart skip.
I stepped around the couch and saw my purse was spilled out all over the floor, its contents scattered like she’d hit the jackpot.
Receipts, lip balm, pens, everything. And there she was, in the middle of it all, triumphantly shaking my wallet like a rattle, grinning at the sound it made.
She looked up at me, eyes wide and sparkling, as if to say, look what I found.
I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t help laughing.
It’s impossible to be upset when she’s so proud of herself.
To her, it wasn’t a mess. It was a discovery.
She’s learning and changing before my eyes every single day.
What’s worse is that I thought the entryway table was tall enough, but the little bugger grabbed the strap. I’m lucky she didn’t get hurt.
Being her mom feels like living inside a constant mix of chaos and wonder.
I’m always one step behind, picking things up, baby-proofing corners, moving objects higher and higher out of reach.
But I’m also witnessing her grow into her independence in real time.
Each wobble to standing, each determined crawl toward something new, is her way of saying she’s ready for more of the world. She’s ready for whatever comes next.
Momma, not so much. I want time to slow down.
And even though I know the days of easy containment are long gone, I wouldn’t trade this stage for anything. The curiosity, the boldness, the way she looks at everything like it’s placed there just for her to explore. It’s magical, messy, exhausting, and beautiful.
Adopting her on my own was the best decision I’ve ever made in my life. She will forever be my greatest blessing and my greatest accomplishment. Being her mom is who I am. I don’t remember myself without her.
My heart aches that she doesn’t have a daddy, and I’m not ready for the questions that I know one day will come.
At the rate she’s growing and learning, it will be here before I know it.
I hate that for her, but I also know that I love this little girl with every ounce of my soul.
One day, we’ll have to have that conversation, and I’ll even tell her I was married before.
I won’t tell her what an asshole he was, or who knows, maybe I will.
Either way, I won’t hide the truth from her that she was my choice.
I’ll make sure she knows her birth mother was young and struggled, but she gave me the greatest gift of my life. Her.
“Mia, we need to go grocery shopping,” I tell her. I’m sitting on the couch, sipping a glass of sweet tea. It’s early afternoon on Saturday, and this is our weekly routine. Of course, she has no idea what I’m saying, but she still smiles at me, and that melts this momma’s heart.
I let her play for a few more minutes, which consists of her bouncing on her legs and squealing in delight as those tiny hands grip the couch cushion for all she’s worth.
When she drops to the floor, I wait for a cry, but instead, she juts out her bottom lip and crawls to where I’m sitting in the recliner, pulls herself up, and reaches for me with one hand, while the other holds her steady.
“Come here, you.” Lifting her into my lap, I smother her face with kisses, and her giggles fill the air around us.
“You are my favorite,” I tell her, hugging her tightly.
“All right, Little Miss. Let’s get your butt changed and pack up the diaper bag, or we’re going to be eating the stale cereal in the cabinet this week. ”
Standing, I carry her back to her room, change her, and place her in her crib to keep her contained while I pack the diaper bag.
I always overpack because with a baby, you never know what you’ll need.
Too many times, we’ve had diaper explosions, and the extra clothes have been a lifesaver.
I’m a planner, and I’d rather carry an overstuffed bag than be out and about without what I need on hand to handle whatever situation arises.
I might be different if I had a partner in this, but there is no one to call.
It’s all on me. Sure, I could call Bellamy or one of the girls, but that’s different. Mia is my responsibility.
“All right, sister, let’s get moving.” Mia’s standing in her crib, bouncing on her legs. I lift her into my arms, and we head to the garage.
After the divorce, I was able to secure a lease for this two-story, two-bedroom, one-car-garage condo. It’s tiny, but it’s ours, and that’s all that matters. Once Mia is strapped into her car seat, toys and binky in place, we hit the road.
Going to the grocery store with a baby is an adventure. She gets restless and wants out of the cart, so I end up carrying her with one arm and pushing the cart with the other. It’s exhausting, and by the time I have Mia loaded into the car, she’s fussy, but I still need to get the groceries loaded.
“Give me five minutes, sweetie,” I tell her, but she’s not having it.
She begins to cry, and I know it’s because she’s tired.
It’s her naptime, which usually works out great for us, but the store was crowded today, and the cashier who checked us out was training, so it took double the time.
It’s not her fault, we all have to learn, but Miss Mia’s not impressed.
Once I get the groceries in the back of my SUV, I slide into the back seat, hit the door locks, and get to work making her a bottle.
That’s something else that I’ve learned about motherhood.
The best-laid plans can be derailed at any moment.
So, instead of heading home, I sit in the back seat, with my daughter in her car seat next to me, feeding her a bottle.
Sure, I could have just handed it to her and driven home, but what if she drops it or chokes?
It’s not worth it. Besides, we have nowhere to be.
Thankfully, it’s April in Tennessee, so it’s not too hot, and we don’t live too far away.
The groceries will be fine until Little Miss gets her belly full.
Mia finishes her bottle and falls sound asleep.
Quietly, I put the bottle back into her bag, slip out of the back seat, into the driver’s seat, and we’re headed home.
We live about twenty minutes away from this store.
They have a better baby food section, and besides, twenty minutes isn’t that far, and what else do I have to do?
This is an adventure out of the house for my girl and me.
I’m just about five miles from the store when I know something’s wrong.
The lights dim, and then it’s just like the car loses power.
Quickly glancing in my rearview mirror, I see that it’s clear, so I pull over to the side of the road.
I barely make it before everything goes black.
Tears prick my eyes because it’s always something.
Can the universe not take it easy on me?
I turn off the key and try again, but everything is dead.
With a heavy sigh, I lean my forehead against the steering wheel, which I’m also gripping with both fists, and fight the urge to scream.
I can’t do that and risk waking my daughter.
Instead, I focus on slowing my breathing and getting my emotions under control before lifting my head, digging my phone out of my purse, and calling Bellamy.
I hate to rely on her and Reid, but what else can I do?
I have no one else to call—well, outside of any of the other girls and their husbands—but Bellamy is my bestie, and even if she can’t help, she can talk me off the ledge, because I feel like I’m about to break down.
It’s moments like these where I feel the loneliest.
“Hey, you,” Bellamy greets me.
“Hey,” I say, my voice cracking.
“Manda? What’s wrong?” Concern laces her tone.
“My car broke down.”
“Where are you? Are you safe? Is Mia with you?” she fires off questions.
“I’m just about five miles outside of Jessup’s Market, headed home. Yes, we’re safe. I was able to guide us to the side of the road. Mia is with me. She’s sleeping in her car seat.”
“Okay, good.” She sighs.
“I hate to ask this, but are you able to come and get me? I know I’ll have to call a tow truck, but I don’t really want Mia around some strange tow truck driver.” I shiver at the thought. You just don’t know who you can trust these days, and I’m not taking any chances with my daughter or me.
“We’re in Chattanooga this weekend, visiting my mom and Cliff,” she tells me, and I can hear the apology in her voice.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I’m sorry to bother you while you’re visiting with her. I know you don’t get to see her as much since the move.”
“Amanda,” she says sternly. “You know that you’re never bothering me. Hold on.” I hear her telling Reid what’s going on. “Amanda, Reid’s going to call one of the guys to come help you.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I’ll just call an Uber home.”
“Don’t you have a car full of groceries?” she asks, and I cringe.
“Yeah, that.” I sigh. “Thank you. Please tell Reid thank you, and whoever comes, I’ll owe them a huge favor and multiple nights of babysitting,” I say. I don’t have much to offer. I make a decent income, but I’m a single mom, and living in Nashville isn’t cheap.
“Not necessary, and you know it. Hold tight. Reid is going to make some calls, and we’ll call you right back. You’re off the road and safe, right? Are your doors locked?”
“Yes, we’re off the road, and the doors are locked. It’s in a good area, so I’m not worried.”
“Okay. Give us five,” she says, and the line goes dead.
I open my phone’s browser and search for towing companies.
I’m sure that since it’s a weekend, the price will be even higher, on top of whatever it costs to fix it.
I’ll have to dip into my emergency fund, but if not having transportation isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what is.
I don’t even know what shop to take it to.
I should have asked Reid that, as well. Times like this, I feel like I’m failing at life, but that’s okay.
I’ll figure it all out and keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Adding another browser page, I start looking for mechanics, as well. I’m reading through some online reviews when Bellamy calls me back. I rush to answer and glance in the back to see if the call woke Mia, but she’s still snoozing away.
“Hi,” I answer.
“We got you covered,” she says.
“Thank you.” I don’t ask her who’s coming. I know all the guys and their wives well enough. I don’t care who it is. I’m just grateful they’re coming to help me.
“You’re welcome. Reid’s on his phone looking for towing companies. He’s going to call for you and tell them where you are, but not until we know you’re not on your own.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling emotion swelling in my throat. “I love you, bestie, and you found a good one,” I tell her, but she already knows that.
“You’ll find yours, too,” she assures me. “He’s out there waiting for you.”
“I’ll let you go. Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome.” We end the call, and I curse because I forgot to ask her where I should have it towed.
Oh well, I’ll just ask whoever is coming to rescue me.
I’m confident that Knox, Landry, Baker, or Foster will know of a good mechanic, and if not, well, I’ll just pick one and try my luck.
There’s not much else I can do at this point.
I hit the lock button on the doors, just to ensure we’re locked in, lean my head back against the headrest, and close my eyes.
This wasn’t the Saturday afternoon adventure I had planned, but that’s okay.
It’s a small hiccup. Mia and I are both fine.
It could have been much worse. My car dying could have caused an accident, and I’m grateful I was able to safely pull to the side of the road and call for help.