She runs towards me and when her body crashes into mine, she wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. I try to hide how my laughter has changed to a choked sob, and I smother the reminder of how many of these hugs I’ve missed.
This is the first time in six long years I’ve held my baby girl and I cling to her like she will evaporate if I let go.
“Thank you, Mandy,” she says as she pulls away, a blush tinting her cheeks, and an adorable shyness reappearing in her eyes. She looks at Lydia and back to me after her mama gives her a comforting thumbs up. “Mandy, would you like to play with me?”
Would I like to play with her?
God, I love her more than anything.
“I would love to. Thank you. I’ll follow you in a minute.”
She smiles before she skips away to her toys.
Standing, I brush away the tears I can’t stop. I need to pull myself together—for Ava. I can bottle the tears until I’m home alone. This isn’t the time to dwell. This is a time to appreciate the present and look forward.
“I’m sorry. The hug got me.” I sniff and take another sip of water.
“When you get to know her better, you’ll see she’s her own person. Ava does what Ava wants to do. She wouldn’t have done that if she was uncomfortable. You’re doing great, Mandy.”
Maybe it’s Lydia’s natural maternal instinct or how grateful I am to her, but I find encouragement in her kind eyes and soft smile. This can’t be easy for her either.
“Thank you, Lydia.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Stop thanking me and go play with your daughter. It’s long overdue and I’m happy you’re here.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice.
***
As the evening creeps in, my cheeks are sore from smiling, my legs are burning from running after Ava, and my hair is soaked from the water fight we had earlier.
I expected my first time meeting Ava to last an hour at most, but Lydia insisted I stay for lunch, and when Ava batted her lashes and said, “Please, Mandy.” I went to mush.
Ava talked about Alex—a lot. She told me how he brings her to her favourite ice-cream parlour and when she stays at his house, she can stay up past her bedtime to watch movies. He really was her father figure. My throat burned when I thought about him, but I refused to let it show. Not today.
I’ll never replace the memories of letting go of my baby girl, but now, I can think of how when she laughs so hard, her knees buckle, and she doesn’t make a sound until she is gasping for air. She twirls a finger in her curls when she is concentrating and her nose scrunches when she’s waiting for an answer to one of her thousand questions. I’d stay here answering questions forever if it meant I had her attention.
When it was time to leave, Ava hugged me again, and we both broke into laughter because we yawned at the same time.
It was a small yet magnificent moment.
“Mandy, before you leave,” Lydia calls after me. “I forgot to give you this.” Both her hands are outstretched, prompting me to take the folder in her hand. “It’s a scrapbook. Little snapshots. I documented all her milestones, and there are pictures in there too. You wanted to know what she was like growing up. It’s all in here.”
I don’t realize tears are falling until they splash against the folder.
She’ll never know what this means to me.
Untangling my tongue, I pop the book under my arm and hug her with the other. “Thank you, Lydia.”
“We’ll see you next week?”
It isn’t a question. Not to me.
Though it wasn’t the first time I said goodbye to Ava. This time I knew it wasn’t goodbye for good.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“It would be great if one of you could say something now?” I lick my lips and interlock my fingers on the table.
My father is the first to speak. “Her name is Ava?”
I nod, my lips curling slightly, and my eyes are wet. “She’s amazing.”
Matt is staring at me like I’ve told him I’ve found the Holy Grail and my mother’s shoulders have begun to shake under her knit sweater. I came to visit so I could tell them about the last two weeks in person, and they’ve been staring at me like I’m only one crazy sentence away from needing a doctor.
“Mandy.” Mom takes my hand. “Is everything okay? You understand what you’re saying, sweetheart?”
I try hard not to roll my eyes.
“I’m fine, Mom. I know it’s a shock. Believe me, it has taken me two weeks to realize it’s real. But it is, and she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re being serious, aren’t you?” Matt cuts in, wide-eyed, and chest heaving with each intake of breath. “I can tell.”
“Oh my God,” Mom shrills, her hands shaking beneath mine. “You’ve found her. You’ve really found her.”
She found me, but I don’t correct her.
My dad is lost in his thoughts somewhere. Pretty sure he’s next to freak out.
“And you’ve seen her already. How is she? Who does she look like? Can we meet her?”
Woah.
“Hold your horses. This is going to take time, and everything will be on Ava’s terms. She doesn’t even know me yet. I’m sure you’ll get to meet her soon, but not yet, Mom. I have something for you, though.” I reach into my bag and take out the scrapbook Lydia made for me. Although it won’t answer all their questions, it should satisfy their need to see her.
She’s fine, she’s amazing and beautiful, and she’s having a wonderful childhood with her family.
And after everyone hugs and cries for what seems like forever, they go through each picture and documented milestone, examining it in fear they’ll miss something.
“And this lady, Lydia, she’s sick?” Dad asks, looking up briefly.
I shake my head and ignore the needles prickling my throat. “She’s incredible, but she’s refusing treatment. It will prolong her life, but she wants quality. She doesn’t want Ava to see her wither from chemo.”
“Poor baby girl,” my mother mutters, flicking the page of the scrapbook. “Is there a father?”
Lydia mentioned this briefly at lunch, but I didn’t want to pry.
“She was married. They had applied to adopt together, but they got divorced, so she went ahead with it herself.”
I hadn’t noticed, but Matt has switched chairs, and I jerk as his arm comes around my shoulder. He kisses the side of my head.
“Alex?” he whispers, rubbing his hand along my back.
I shake my head and frown. “Of all the people in the world, I fell in love with him. Had I never met him and came into her life not knowing him, I don’t know if things would be different. Can’t help but wonder, though.” I shrug, using the tips of my fingers to dry the corner of my eyes.
He squeezes me tighter. “Sometimes, we need to make necessary sacrifices.”
He knows it better than anyone. And I have my little girl. I shouldn’t want anything more, but I’d be lying to myself and everyone else if I said I didn’t miss him. He will always have the part of me he took when he walked away. He can keep it. I don’t want anyone else to have it.
“I think she’s sacrificed enough,” my father grunts. There’s an anger in his tone I haven’t heard before. He’s hurting for me. I’m his little girl, and he hates when he can’t protect me from something.
My mother pats his thigh. “Calm down, love.”
His palm comes down hard on the table. When he stands, he runs a frustrated hand across his face. “It’s not right. He made her happy, but she was missing her little girl. Her little girl makes her happy, but she’s missing Alex. Why does she always have to go without?”
I swallow back the lump threatening to choke me and go to him, cupping his face in my hands. “I’m happy, Dad. I know he loved me, but this is beyond anyone’s comprehension. She’s enough. She will always be enough for me.”
He grabs my arms
and pulls me into a hug so tight I can hardly breathe. “You’re a strong little thing, and I’m so proud of you.”
The selfish part of me wants everything he wishes I had, too.
***
When I left, I visited Nick’s parents. They were all the things my family was. Shocked, elated, not sure if I’d gone crazy, but when all else settled, the urge to meet her was first in their mind. I explained the situation, and they happily agreed to wait.
After, I drove to Nick’s grave, put Ava’s photo in some plastic, and tucked it inside a lantern. I run my finger along his picture and the engraving on the stone.
Nicholas Sayres
Aged 20
Loving son, brother, and friend
And father.
“She’s like you,” I whisper. “She has your smile and goofy sense of humour, and I bet she would have been a daddy’s girl.” She wouldn’t have had a choice with Nick.
The pain of missing him never gets easier, but I’ve learned how to breathe through the knot in my chest. I’ll always have a part of him with me now, in Ava.
“I wish you were here for this.”
If I’m throwing out wishes, I wish he never left.
“I love you.”
And as I stand, I ask of him the same thing I always do when I come here. It doesn’t change now she’s back in my life. “Watch over our baby girl.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Mandy, I’m stuck.”
I swear that kid can project her voice across an ocean.
“She can’t be stuck again.” Lydia rolls her eyes and continues cleaning Ava’s things back into her bag. “I think she does it on purpose, so you’ll go get her.”
That makes my heart swell. Her tiny little butt can get stuck in the toilet all it wants if that’s the reason she does it.
When I go to her, she’s already up, washing her hands, and batting her lashes as she admires herself in the mirror. As she should.
I cross my arms over my chest, my eyes narrowing, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing at the faces she’s pulling. “Hey, I thought you were stuck.”
“Oh, I’m not anymore. I forgot Uncle Alex told me I was strong now because I’m six and I should be able to get my own butt up from the toilet.”
I stifle a laugh. So, she does it to him too.
“You go, girl. You got this.”
“I got this,” she repeats, drying her hands and patting down her dress.
It’s been two months since she came storming into my life and it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. It happened fast, but we went where Ava brought us. She asked last week if she could come and visit me at home, and she’s come twice since.
My house is nothing like hers. It’s a hell of a lot smaller. I don’t even have stairs, but each time, her nosy little face has found something she loves, and she seems happy here.
I hope she is.
To my disappointment, Alex didn’t drive them. I haven’t seen or heard from him since the day he dropped Lydia off, and the hole in my heart is nowhere near closing. I’ve contacted him in every way I knew how without getting anyone else involved. I’ve called, texts, and even emailed, and each time, I received radio silence in return. I even drunk dialed him one night, which still makes me cringe, but a girl has got to try.
He’s done. I get it. Pity my heart won’t take the hint.
My friends don’t bring him up anymore because I cry each time, and then try to laugh it off like his name doesn’t stab me. Ava talks about him all the time, but there’s a numbing defensive mechanism that latches hold of all my features. I smile and nod because she adores him. If being honest, so do I.
I spent over six years in an empty bed, but now he’s left it, it feels colder than it ever did back then.
I shake my head at the thoughts because if I don’t, they slowly consume me, and I have everything I need in my life. We don’t always get what we want. I’ll count my blessings because for so long, I didn’t have much of them.
“Sit down,” I insist, hearing Lydia become out of breath. She’s trying to tidy away Ava’s dolls into her toy boxes. They’re toy boxes I have for my house, and she shouldn’t exert herself. “I can do all of this. Relax.” I press my hands on her shoulders until she sits down. She obliges, smiling behind the pain. “You okay?” I ask, low enough so Ava won’t hear as she colours a book on the table.
“Tired,” she admits, a yawn stretching her cheeks. “This week has been tough. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment next week. He should give me something.”
I don’t know what to say to her, or what to do, so instead, I tap my hand against her thigh, feeling the bones beneath my fingers. She’s deteriorating, and I hope it doesn’t show on my face. “If you need anything.”
She leans back, resting her head on the chair, and closes her eyes. “I know that, honey. Thank you.”
In the past two months, I’ve gained a friend in the woman my daughter calls Mama, and seeing her in pain aches at my chest. She’s exactly who I think of when I hear ‘Bad things happen to good people.’ It’s not fair. It’s cruel.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” I offer, gathering the last of Ava’s toys.
“Uncle Alex is coming to pick us up,” Ava chimes in, swaying on her chair.
I try to ignore how my breath hitches and my heart hammers in my chest.
It’s been two months of nothing.
I haven’t even seen his face.
Lydia leans forward and squeezes my shoulder. Her smile is sympathetic, and I look up to stop the moisture pooling in my eyes.
I need to get over this. This can’t be the reaction I always have to him. I can’t live my life longing and in agony every time I hear his name. This, I have to deal with first. Then, I can move on to physical interactions. One small step at a time. I’ll get there.
“She’s staying with him tonight. I’m going for acupuncture this evening and it’s amazing how lying on a bed, doing nothing but getting poked with needles, is so exhausting.”
I sigh a laugh and plaster another smile on my face.
When I hear the familiar sound of his engine, my brain stops working, and I almost open back the door and run to him, like I used to. But then I remember, I can’t do it anymore. We’re no longer those people.
I take a deep breath, count to three, and turn back around.
“Come on, little lady. Alex is waiting. Put your coat on. It’s cold outside.”
She wiggles from the chair and comes to me to slip her hands through the sleeves.
I can’t help but eavesdrop when Lydia answers her phone. “Be out in a minute. She’s putting on her coat… Uh-huh… All is good… No, it’s fine. Mandy has everything packed in her bag and ready to go… Okay.”
She ends the call and I smile when she catches me glancing her way.
I crouch down and wrap Ava in a hug, embracing her warm face against mine. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
“Ask what you wanted to ask, Ava.” Lydia nudges her. “I’ve never known you to be shy.”
She nods enthusiastically and slaps a wet kiss on my cheek. “Can you come with me when we go to pick out my Halloween costume?”
Oh, sweet heavens. I think every chamber of my heart swells. My daughter is asking me to go shopping for a Halloween costume with her.
I’ve won at life.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
“I would love to, Ava. Thank you for asking me.”
She shrugs, cool and casual, like it’s not a big deal. Not even slightly aware, it’s the most beautiful question anyone has ever asked. “You’re welcome.”
I open the door, still smiling so wide, I think my face will crack, but Alex has parked on the curb, hidden behind the hedging of my garden. I wish, for once, he’d allow me to look at him. I don’t know what I expect to see, but not knowing is worse.
Lydia hugs me before taking Ava’s hand. “Bye Mand
y.” She waves from the garden. “Love you.”
What?
My throat has closed, and I’m definitely crying now.
Oh, baby girl, I love you, too.
I swallow and find encouragement that Lydia is also wiping tears. “I love you,” I choke out in a strangled sob.
She waves back at me again. “I’ll tell Uncle Alex you say hi.”
What again?
But what do I tell her?
So, I stick my hands in my pockets, ignore the mortification clawing its way down my spine, and grin because he may hate me, but my daughter loves me
***
It’s getting dark when my phone buzzes on the coffee table. I tried to watch a movie after Ava left, but I must have fallen asleep halfway through, and now it’s deafening loud to my sleepy ears. I fumble for the remote, turn down the volume, and grab my phone.
Only I don’t expect the name flashing at me.
Alex.
I don’t think about it because something could be wrong.
“Hello?”
A small giggle erupts and then I hear, “Hi Mandy, I wanted to say goodnight.”
My breathing calms and relief washes over me. She’s melting my heart today.
“Hey, you. Does your uncle know you’re calling people from his phone?”
“Uh, huh. He’s right here with me. He’s making me some warm cocoa before bed.”
I can tell I’m on loudspeaker, and I hear Alex opening cupboards in the background. That alone causes my blood pressure to spike.
He’s right there.
“Yummy. You’re a lucky girl.”
His voice comes closer. “Ava, say goodnight to Mandy. Your cocoa is almost ready, and you still have to call your mama.”
Her lips smack together. “Goodnight, Mandy. Love you lots.”
There it is again.
I swoon.
“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”
And then, before Ava ends the call, she demands, “Say goodnight to Mandy, Alex.”
I’m shaking.
The phone is rattling in my hand.
I may be about to receive actual words from him.
There’s a long pause, and I wait for what seems like forever. I’m about to tell her it’s okay when I hear him clear his throat, and his low, gravelly voice murmurs, “Goodnight, Mandy.”
Losing Love (What Will Be Book Series) Page 24
