But I will say, nothing beats knowing I’m the one you get to be happy with now.
Love,
Atlas
I flinch so hard, I almost rip the letter in two when someone bangs on my window. I gasp and glance up to see my mother standing next to my car. Emmy lights up when she sees me through the window, and that smile is all it takes to make me smile in return.
Well, her smile and the letter in my hand.
I fold it up and tuck it back into my purse. My mother opens my door. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” I take Emmy from her, but my mother’s eyes are squinting with suspicion.
“You sounded scared when you asked me to meet you at the park.”
“It’s fine,” I say, wanting to brush it off. “I just didn’t want Ryle to pick her up today. He’s not in a very good mood, and he knew she was with you, so…”
I blow out a breath and walk over to the empty swing set. I take a seat in one of the swings and place Emmy on my lap, facing out. I kick the ground and give the swing a little push, watching as my mother takes a seat in the swing next to us.
“Lily.” My mother is looking at me with concern. “Just tell me what happened.”
I know Emerson is only one and can’t understand me yet, but it still makes me uncomfortable to talk about her father in her presence. I’m convinced babies and toddlers can sense moods, even if they can’t understand what you’re saying.
I attempt to explain my situation without mentioning names. “I’m sort of seeing someone?” That confession comes out like a question because we haven’t made it official, but I don’t think Atlas and I have to put a label on it to know where this is headed.
“Really? Who?”
I shake my head. I’m not about to tell her it’s Atlas, even though she probably wouldn’t know who I was talking about. She saw him twice when I was younger, and we never once spoke about him. And if she does remember him, I’m sure she doesn’t want to, considering her husband put him in the hospital.
There may come a day when I officially introduce Atlas to my mother, and I don’t want her to know him from my past or she might feel mortified.
“Just someone I met. It’s early. But…” I sigh and kick the ground again to give us another small push. “Ryle found out, and he isn’t happy.”
My mother winces, like she knows all too well what he isn’t happy implies.
“He came by this morning, and his reaction was scary. I panicked, thinking he was going to show up at your place to get her, so I didn’t want you to be home.”
“What did he do?”
I shake my head. “I’m not hurt. It’s just been a while since I’ve seen that side of him, so I’m a little shaken, but I’m okay.” I kiss Emmy on top of her head. I’m surprised to feel a tear skating down my cheek, so I quickly wipe it away. “I just don’t know what to do about his visits now. I almost wish something would have happened so I could have reported him this time. But then I feel like an awful mother for thinking that way about her father.”
My mother reaches over and squeezes my hand. It makes my swing come to a still, so I twist until we’re facing her. “No matter what you decide to do, you are not an awful mother. Precisely the opposite.” She releases my hand and grips the chains, staring at Emmy. “I admire the choices you’ve made for her. Sometimes I get sad that I couldn’t be that strong for you.”
I immediately shake my head. “You can’t compare our situations, Mom. I had a lot of support that enabled me to make the choice I made. You had no one.”
She gives me a sad, appreciative smile. Then she leans back and kicks at the ground to give herself a little shove. “Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy.” She glances over at me. “Who is he?”
I laugh. “No, you don’t. I’m not talking about him to you until he’s a for-sure thing.”
“He already is a for-sure thing,” she says. “I can see it in your smile.”
We both look up at the same time when it starts sprinkling. I tuck Emmy under my chin and we begin to head back toward the parking lot. My mother kisses Emmy before I put her in the car seat. “I love you. Gamma loves you, Emmy.”
“Gamma?” I ask. “Last week it was Nannie.”
“I still haven’t settled on one yet.” My mother kisses me on the cheek and then rushes to her car.
I climb into my car right when the bottom falls out of the sky. Huge drops of rain assault the windshield, the pavement, the hood of my car. They’re so fat, they sound like acorns hitting my car.
I sit for a moment, waiting to figure out where I’m going before I start the car. I don’t want to go home yet because Ryle might show back up. I definitely don’t want to go to Allysa’s because I’ll absolutely run into him in the apartment building where he lives.
I feel very protective of Emmy right now because Ryle has every right on paper to show up and take her from me for the day, but I’m not allowing my daughter around him on a day I know his fuse is nonexistent.
I look in my rearview mirror, and Emmy is just sitting peacefully, looking out the window at the rain. She has no idea the kind of chaos that surrounds her existence, because to her, I’m her entire existence. Every ounce of her trust is in me. She depends on me for everything, and she’s just sitting there happy and comfortable, as if I have it all under control.
I don’t feel like I have it under control, but the fact that she assumes I do is good enough for me. “Where do we go today, Emmy?”
Chapter Twenty-Five Atlas
“What time did you get home last night?” Josh asks. He’s shuffling into the kitchen wearing two different socks: one of them a new one I bought him and one of them mine. Theo and Josh were asleep when I got home, but I still woke up three hours before they did. Brad just left with Theo about twenty minutes ago.
“That’s none of your business.” I point at the table, where Josh’s homework sits unfinished. He promised he would do it yesterday if I let Theo spend the night, but I have a feeling the video games and manga and anime got in the way. “You didn’t do your homework?”
Josh looks at the pile of papers and then back at me. “No.”
“Get to it.” I say that with confidence, but I have no idea how to do this. I’ve never had to tell a kid to do homework before. I don’t even know how to ground him if he doesn’t do his homework. I feel like I’m acting. I am. I’m an imposter.
“I’m not avoiding it,” Josh says. “I just can’t do it.”
