Chapter 40
CHAPTER
CHEER SECTIONALS WERE over the weekend, and Circe’s team placed a disappointing fourth.
I expect her to arrive for dinner still upset.
But when she walks into the apartment, Sally jumps up to greet her and Circe is all smiles.
Even better, she seems to enjoy rolling out the pasta and decorating the cake I baked earlier.
I have to stop myself from closing my laptop and powering off our iPhones.
Aletheia is gone. When my daughter settles on the orthopedic bed next to Sally, my dog bathes her entire face in sloppy kisses.
Circe giggles. Life isn’t what I expected, but this moment is good.
Over dinner, my daughter tells me that Charlotte fell twice during the competition. Once while climbing onto Circe’s shoulders, the second time from the top of a pyramid. “She blamed me both times,” Circe says.
“Why?” I ask, between bites of pasta.
“You wouldn’t get it.”
“Try me.”
Circe butters a piece of bread. “Char had this boyfriend. His name’s Wess. Her mom made her break up with him. Char won’t tell Emi and me why.” Circe chews her bread, takes a sip of water.
Relief eases the last of my tension. They’d know if Aletheia’s takedown of Wess on LivLoud had gone through before I stopped her. “And breaking up with Wess made Char fall?”
“I guess. She, like, lost her concentration and cried a bunch. Emi and I tried to help but Char has been ravaged by the breakup.”
I remember what Kiki said about Wess liking Circe first but then falling for Char, but play dumb. “So, why would Char blame you for her mistakes?”
Circe blushes. “Wess likes me. He kinda liked me, before Char, but she’s more, I don’t know, sexier?”
Warning bells go off. “Did you ever date him?” I ask, trying to sound nonjudgmental.
“Nope,” Circe says.
I breathe easier.
“But I might date him now.”
My body goes taut. “No dating until you’re eighteen.”
Circe frowns. “What? That’s one of Dr. Beth’s dumb rules.”
That’s true, but right now, it’s all I can think of to keep her safe. “When you’re eighteen, you can make your own rules.”
“Lot of good Dr. Beth did you,” my daughter mutters. She pushes back from the table, grabs her backpack, and heads to the door.
I’m losing her. “Where are you going?
“Back to Dad’s. And just so you know, Mackenzie remembers what it’s like to be a teenager. She thinks I deserve more freedom.”
“Mackenzie isn’t your mother.”
“She will be.”
The unfairness of this entire situation rushes in. Circe has zero respect for me. With no other option, I take the biggest gamble of my life. “You think your childhood is so terrible? You should’ve seen mine.”
Circe hesitates at the door. “You never talk about it.”
“There’s a reason. I was homeless as a kid, lived in a tent, then in an old car.
My mom was a drug addict. I never knew my dad.
I’m not sure she knew who he was, either.
She was a prostitute to get money for drugs and food.
Some of the men she slept with were okay, others hurt her, and one tried to attack me with a knife.
We lived in a women’s shelter for a little while, and after Mama J got clean, subsidized housing. ”
I have Circe’s attention now, her mouth hanging open.
“The noise in that apartment building was something else,” I say, remembering the yelling, fights, slammed doors, gang violence, and the sirens when the police came.
“I was scared all the time. But not as scared as when we lived on the street. Doors, even when they’re splintered and broken, are better than fabric tents or cars without windows, and school was my safe place. ”
Circe’s brows knit together. “Seriously?” she asks, uncertain.
I feel utterly exposed, wonder if I’m doing the right thing, but that train has left the station and lost its brakes.
And if Aletheia was still around to give me advice?
I wouldn’t take it. It’s time to do this on my own.
“Getting an education was a lifeboat. I’m hard on you about school because I want you to have every option in life, and to never have to depend on anyone but yourself. ”
“You did,” Circe accuses. “Dad makes all our money.”
“That was a mistake. Now I have to build a new life from the ground up with no job experience or safety net.”
Circe makes her way to the kitchen counter and leans against it. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
My cheeks flush. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”
“But you went to college, graduate school, too, on scholarship. I’m not sure I could’ve done that, been so driven, and figured out, at such a young age, how to have a better life.”
This is new—my daughter being impressed by anything I’ve done.
“So, why can’t I date?” Circe presses. “Mackenzie started dating when she was twelve.”
If Mackenzie jumped off a bridge …
The only thing I can offer my daughter in this moment is the truth.
“Look, I can’t stop you from dating. All I can do is share my experiences.
Your father and I only dated for three months before I got pregnant and dropped out of grad school.
” We’ve never told her this, worried she might feel unwanted.
Circe’s eyes widen. “Because of me?”
“Yes. But it was my choice to support your dad’s career so he could take care of us.”
“You’re saying that I ruined your life?”
“No! I’d drop out of school to have you again and again. But getting pregnant changed my trajectory and limited the choices. That’s just the truth. All I can ask, if you’re going to date Wess, is that you take time to really know him. That you give me a heads-up first.”
Circe hesitates. “Okay.”
I want to trust her, but don’t. She’s a teenage girl. For a moment, I wish Aletheia’s revenge on Wess had gone through, even though that makes me more like her than I’d care to admit. But I’m on my own. Telling Circe the truth about Wess will push her away. But do I have a choice?
She scuffs her sneaker against the wooden floor. “What about you? What are you going to do now?”
I take a sip of water. It sloshes over the rim and onto my shirt.
“I’m trying to figure that out. The fact that I don’t know is my fault.
I gave up the things that made me, me. Not in a rush, but bit by bit.
Now I’ve got to find them again.” As I say this, it rings true.
I meet Circe’s gaze. “Be whatever you want. A photographer, a cheerleading coach, an engineer, or a doctor. Whatever you choose, I’ll support that decision.
But I’m always going to do my best to protect you. That’s my job.”
Sally comes over to the kitchen table, sits and leans into my leg. Good dog. I feel utterly drained and need her support.
Circe fiddles with a cloth napkin and twists it into a knot. “I’m going back to Dad’s house.”
I force a little shrug. “Sure. Or you could stay the night here.”
She hesitates. “Maybe.”
When I peek into Circe’s room fifteen minutes later, she’s changed into PJs and is studying the photographs that I hung on the walls. She’s fourteen, thinks she’s an adult, but is still wearing pajamas with monkeys on them.
I nod at the photos—a crumbling stone wall with a single red poppy, a woman’s smile mostly hidden behind windblown hair, and a child’s hand cradling an iridescent green frog. “They’re good.”
“You think?”
“I do.”
My daughter’s face lights up. Maybe she’s not ready to totally forgive me. But I’ve made some headway. Circe climbs into bed and relief threads through me. She’s really staying. “Night, bug.” It’s what I used to call her when she was little.
“Night.”
My joy dips as I close her door. Tomorrow morning, I’ll tell her the truth about Wess.
Sometimes motherhood is a thankless job.
But I can’t stop protecting Circe, even if it means she’ll resent me.
I head to my bathroom, brush my teeth, then Sally and I get into my bed.
She scooches close, her head on the pillow beside mine.
At least you’ll still want to be around me.
I text Bruce to let him know Circe is spending the night and get a thumbs-up emoji.
The moment I put the phone down, it rings, and I jump, my nerves still on high alert thanks to Aletheia.
When I see Luc’s name, longing zings through me.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Luc says. “Meet me Friday at the pool?”
“Another doggy date?” I ask with a little smile.
“Swimming lesson.”
I hesitate, but it’s past time to face the things that scare me and overcome them.