22. Diana
Since arriving in Sag Harbor, the girls and I haven’t really spent any bonding time—not the fun activity kind, anyway.
Sure, we hit the beach on the Fourth of July, but any time we’ve spent alone has been while they come with me to run errands, or just spending time at home while we watch TV or eat dinner.
So I cancelled the stay-at-home pool day I had planned for us and switched it out for a girl’s day out with Emiliana and Camila in town.
I thought we could window shop around Sag Harbor, maybe even buy something as a keepsake for our summer in the Hamptons.
Besides spending time together doing something outside the house, I owe it to my daughters to ask them whether they’d be comfortable with me going out with another man—especially when that man is none other than their best friend’s dad.
Once I find the right time, I’ll address the possibility of dating—maybe even tell them that I specifically mean their friend’s dad.
My heart flutters just at the thought of it. Of how this conversation I’m hoping to have makes it official: Michael and I are doing this. We’re going for it. The exact parameters, rules, and expectations haven’t been hammered out yet, but what’s certain is that we want to explore it.
I’m both terrified and feel more exhilarated than I have in a long time.
I was hoping for a beautiful beach day, followed by a fantastic movie and dinner, something to soften the blow—but the powers that be failed me.
The sky is overcast, the weather muggy, the movie was, as kids say, mid, and dinner was meh and a bit of a headache due to having to be extra careful of what Emi could order.
It’s only after we’re having our post-movie stroll around town, walking up Main Street, that I dare to bring the topic up at all: “So,” I begin.
“I have to talk to you girls about something big.” With a nod, I lead them to an empty bench, where we all settle comfortably.
“How would you feel about me going on dates? Or possibly, you know…” I take a deep breath, steel myself. “Having a boyfriend?”
Emi gasps just as Cami whips in her seat to look at me.
“What are you talking about?” Cami looks up at me, brows pinched in suspicion. My oldest has always been smarter than your average bear. “Is that where you went last night? On a date?”
This makes Emi gag and grimace; she shakes her head slowly as she keeps her eyes on the ground.
I swallow. “Yes. I guess, so. Yes?”
“With that guy in the suit?”
“I—” And then I freeze. Because I want to correct her—I should correct her—but Michael is their best friend’s dad.
And if they say no? Well, what will that mean for their friendship?
Will the girls pull away from Rachel because I’ve decided to selfishly follow something I want for the first time in years?
I need to check whether they’d be okay with me dating anyone first.
“I mean, it’s no one specific,” I lie with a shrug. “It’s just a thought.”
Emi visibly relaxes with a nod. But Cami? Cami has narrowed her eyes at me, and I can tell she’s evolved into some form of guard dog. She’s bitten into this piece of information and will not let go until she gets more of it.
“I don’t understand.”
“Well,” I say, clearing my throat. God, when did nine year-olds get so terrifying?
“You know how Dad has a girlfriend now?” Does he?
Honestly, who knows at this point. The man has disappeared into the ether without a second thought.
“Well, he’s found someone else he wants to spend time with, and I was thinking it might be time for me to do the same. ”
Cami looks away, face and neck red. When I watch her raise a hand and wipe a tear away, I realize with horror how my words must’ve come out.
“He’s found someone else to spend time with,” and she thought I meant he’d abandoned them for someone else—which, for all we know, he has. At least the abandonment thing we know for sure.
I turn quickly in my seat to face her and take her hands in mine.
“That’s not what I meant—” the words burst through me, loud enough to cause some passersby to turn and stare.
“I don’t mean I’d rather spend time with someone other than you guys—never that.
You and Emi will always be my priority. Always.
” Not like your dick of a father, I don’t add.
“I just mean that I would like to spend time with another man—one who cares about me—instead of your father. We are not together anymore, after all.”
My eyes jump from one daughter to the other, back and forth, making sure they understand my meaning.
“I don’t know…” Cami finally whispers. “You’re just going to do the same thing he did. Forget we even exist.”
The pain in my chest is visceral, the rage coursing through my veins burning through me like acid.
Fuck Rodrigo. Fuck Rodrigo to the deepest depths of hell.
It’s the first time we’ve spoken about their father outside of our weekly card-writing sessions when they write and send him letters that always go unanswered and it takes everything inside me not to throw up. If I’m angry and upset, I can’t imagine how my girls feel.
“Hey.” I grab her gently by the chin, forcing her to look at me. “I will never do that. I will never allow anyone to come between us. It’s why I’m even having this conversation to begin with. Your happiness and well-being will always be more important than anything else.”
Cami’s lower lip trembles, her eyes filling with tears.
“Please don’t leave me, Mami.”
My heart shatters when she throws herself into my arms, sobbing into my chest. Emi hugs her sister from behind.
I reach around my oldest to clutch at my youngest’s shirt, bringing her closer and closing our group hug.
It’s in that moment that I realize that this is my family now; this is who we are as a nucleus.
Rodrigo is long gone, not just for me, but for them, too.
“I will never leave you,” I say through soft tears, my nose runny and gross.
I can’t even begin to imagine what people around us think as they walk by.
“But I deserve to be happy, too, I think.” It’s not the first time someone says that about me, but it’s the first time I say it about myself.
And I believe it. I do deserve to be happy.
So long as my girls always feel loved and taken care of by their mother, then this can, of course, work out for everyone.
I hope.
“So are you ready for tomorrow?” Michael’s deep voice, low and gravelly, sends shivers down my spine.
I can’t help the way my heart tightens in my chest when I think about going out with him, or the way my stomach fills with actual butterflies when my mind runs through what we did the other night and whether we’ll do it again. Whether I’m even ready to do more. “Yes. I think.”
This makes him laugh. “You think? Did I stump you with that question?”
I bite my lip as I flip the seasoned chicken from one of the new recipes he taught me. “No,” I say with a blush. “Why are you whispering, by the way?”
“Ah. I… haven’t exactly told Rachel about my date tomorrow. So I’m hiding in my room.”
I snort and shake my head. “Coward.”
“You told your girls?”
“You sound surprised! You didn’t think I’d be able to tell them I would start dating again?”
Michael sighs. “I shouldn’t be. You’re the strongest person I know.
But it’s different for you. I just need to tell my daughter that her biological father who was never in a relationship with her mother is going to go out with the hottest woman in the world—” I scoff, but he ignores it.
“You had the more difficult job. You had to tell your daughters their mother, who recently got a divorce, is going to start dating another man who isn’t the father they grew up with.
Who isn’t the man they always saw as your partner. ”
“He wasn’t much of a partner,” I mutter.
I peek through the kitchen door to make sure the girls are too distracted by their movie to hear me talking to Michael.
“But you’re right. It wasn’t easy. At all.
” I sigh, switching the phone from one hand to the other.
“It was a pretty intense conversation, I’m not gonna lie. ”
“Did you tell them it was me?” His voice is soft, tentative.
I know part of him wants to be as honest as possible with the girls after all the lying he and Jessie did to Rachel, but the other part understands that, due to my circumstances, we need to ease into this. Especially since we don’t even know where this might lead given our geographical challenges.
“No. No, I think it would be counterproductive. I think they need to sit with it a little.”
I can practically hear him nod. “Agreed. At least for now.”
“So what are we doing tomorrow?”
As if on cue, the sky outside crackles with lighting, followed by a deep rumble of thunder, rattling the pool house’s windows.
The intensity of it all makes me jump and gasp, bringing a hand to my chest when sheets of rain suddenly begin to hit the windows with such force, the sound echoes throughout the entire house.
The girls scream from the other room as well, calling out for me.
“It’s okay, girls,” I call back, feeling not okay at all. “It’s just a little thunder.” I’d love someone to tell that to my heart, however, since it’s five seconds away from beating out of my chest and running away to take cover.
“Oh my god,” I say in awe.
“Did you hear that, too?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.
“Yeah. I mean, it was a horrible day out today, but I didn’t expect that. It scared the girls, too.” I peek back in. “But they seem to be fine now.”
“Didn’t sound too loud from here, and Rach seems to be okay.
Let me check my weather app,” he says. On the other end of the line, I hear him tap away at his screen, searching for something.
“Shit,” he mutters, his voice clear now.
“There’s a sudden storm coming in the early morning and it’s supposed to last until the following day. ”
“In the early morning?” I gasp. “Meaning it’s going to get worse than what it is now?” I walk over to the window and stare out into the pool area, but can barely make out anything past the chairs.
“How did I miss this?”
How did we miss this? I want to ask. But I know how. The distraction that came with what we did and the nerves from telling the girls definitely threw us both off track.
“I don’t know how the hell this came out of nowhere, but… Diana, you need to put all the pool furniture inside. It says the winds are going to get pretty strong. Up to fifty miles per hour.” I try to keep calm, but I can sense the panic in his voice, and it’s not helping to keep mine under control.
“Fifty—What?”
“Hey, listen to me. You’re going to be fine. It’s—It’s just a summer storm. They happen. You’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” I try to swallow the knot in my throat, but it doesn’t budge.
“The thing is, I don’t do well with storms.” My voice sounds far away to my own ears as a montage of wild memories flash before my eyes.
Currents of mud destroying everything in their path.
Entire homes disappearing into the dark waters.
My sister, a baby in my mother’s arms, crying.
A fear so intense, it coursed through my four year-old system and marked me for the rest of my life.
“What do you mean you don’t do well with storms?”
I force myself to breathe, unable to answer the question.
“Do you know if Barbara has a generator?”
A sharp gasp escapes my lips. “A generator? You think the power could go out?”
His silence is deafening.
I squeeze my eyes shut, try to control my breathing.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, frustrated once again that this is all on me.
It’s always all on me. And I can do it—I know I can—because I am strong, just like Michael says.
And I can overcome this fear. But, my god, I’d like for the universe to cut me some slack for a change.
“I guess I have to go and make sure the house is storm ready. Fill the tubs with water and stuff. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right?
” I look out once more at the pool, watching the tables and chairs outside start to shift with the rain.
Shit.
This isn’t the same, I tell myself, attempting to stay sane. It’s just a summer storm. It’ll be okay.
“Dee—” It’s the first time he calls me by a nickname, and I hate that it’s when I’m five seconds away from a panic attack.
“I need to go check on the girls and handle this before it gets worse. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up and turn off the stove, brace myself for what’s to come. “I’m okay, Michael. I promise.”