by Sadie Black
“No moving away! No moving!” Brooklyn screams, tossing her pony across the room angrily. “I don’t want to leave, I want to stay here with Braddy!” She shrieks and I realize that it isn’t anger, but fear that’s making her melt down. I watch from the couch, uncertain of what to say or do. Bradley jumps up and sweeps her up in his arms.
“Hey, it’s ok. We’re just talking. I’m not saying anyone is moving. It’s just talking, Brooklyn.”
“No moving!” She screams again, tears smearing her cheeks. “I don’t want to go. No go!” She balls her hands up into little fists and they tremble with emotion. My heart squeezes in my chest as I watch her struggle with the idea. I had no idea she was listening in on our conversation, let alone understanding it. I watch helplessly as Bradley carries Brooklyn down to her room and listen as he sings her songs and calms her down. Whenever she has tantrums or nightmares it reminds me how unprepared I am for motherhood. I don’t know the first thing about bringing a child into this world, and these stupid books aren’t going to teach me. I toss the “What to Expect” book to the other end of the couch, sighing.
The last sounds of Brooklyn’s crying peters out and Bradley comes back into the living room without her. “She’s tired out, I put her down for a nap. I guess I’m going to need to be more careful with what I say around her, I always forget that she’s listening.” He rubs his hand and his eyebrows press together with concern. “Look, I didn’t mean to stress everyone out about Florida, I’m sorry.” He walks across the room and joins me on the couch.
“I’m not stressed about it, don’t worry.” I hope my tone is convincing, but I can see in his eyes that my acting skills need work.
“Well, I just brought it up so you would have time to think about it, that’s all. Maybe the judge will determine that permanent custody here is what’s best for her,” now he’s the one who sounds like he’s reading a script. He puts his hands on my tiny belly and looks me in the eyes, “regardless, we’ll get through whatever happens together. We’re a family, right? And that’s what families do.” I wish I could believe him, but I just don’t know how long we’ll be able to hold our little family together once Eileen has complete freedom again.
“That’s what families do,” I echo his words, but I don’t feel reassured. I know Bradley is doing everything he can to make everyone happy, but with Eileen hovering in the background I can’t help but feel like we’re working against a ticking time bomb. Except in our case, there’s no telling if or when it’s gonna explode.
“Ohhh, do you know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl?”
“Oh my goodness, that cute little belly! You look like you swallowed a melon! I wish my pregnancy looked like that.”
“Kendra, you’re absolutely stunning, pregnancy agrees with you.”
As I predicted, a group of women are crowded around Kendra fussing over her. With all the hands rubbing at her stomach, you’d think they were trying to make a genie come out or something. I stand off to the side and soak in the lovely decorations adorning the room. Kendra has spared no expense for our double baby shower, with a custom made banner hanging from the arched doorway. “Congratulations Brianna and Kendra!” It exclaims. She even put my name first, classy. I look over at her sympathetically as she silently begs me to save her from the group with her eyes.
“Ok ladies, hands off the merchandise.” I interrupt, pushing my way into their bubble. “Besides, why you want to be touching that belly when you could put your hands on all this,” I wave my hands around my non-existent bump and Kendra laughs.
“Wow, Brianna, you’d never know that you two are due around the same time. You’re so tiny!” Matthew’s sister, Tina smiles.
“You’re lucky,” Paula cuts in, “I bet you’re wearing your normal clothes, aren’t you? When I got pregnant I was as big as a house. My maternity clothes needed maternity clothes!” The crowd eases away from Kendra a little and giggle erupts at Paula’s joke.
Kendra leans into me, “thank you,” she whispers. “I owe you.”
Ladies, I thought I’d just come in here and say goodbye.” Matthew walks in dressed in a polo shirt and light dress pants. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna just borrow my wife for a second,” he smiles at Kendra and her eyes are glued on him. Apparently the honeymoon phase is alive and well with these two, because everyone else in the room seems to evaporate from their line of sight when they see each other.
“Where are you trying to run off to?” One of Kendra’s work acquaintances, whose name I can’t remember yells out.
“I’m not running off, just going to spend an afternoon on the green working on my put.” He answers without taking his eyes off Kendra. They both step out into the hall to say their comically long goodbye while the hens continue to cluck in the living room.
“Ohhh, that baby of theirs is gonna pop out and just start walking down the runway. With a mom and dad that look like that, there’s no way that kid won’t be a model.” Paula tells the crowd of women who are all obviously watching Matthew and Kendra in the hall like they’re dinner theater for the group. It’s hard to argue with her though, when the two of them stand next to each other they look like they’ve been ripped from the glossy pages of a magazine.
Finally the couple manage to pry themselves away from each other and Kendra joins us back in the room, “Ok, I hope everyone brought their inner artist along with them cause I thought it’d be cute if we all made some custom designed onesies.” She leads the group over to a long table at the back of the room where a pile of plain, white onesies are sitting beside a pile of permanent markers. “Don’t worry, they’re just for fun so put whatever you want on ‘em.” Kendra explains as the ladies start to seat themselves around the table, ready to dive in.
These little party games aren’t really my thing, but I know Kendra has put a lot of work into making this a fun afternoon for us, so when in Rome. I make my way over to the table but stop dead in my tracks. Standing in the doorway is a woman with sad eyes and a small wrapped gift in her hand, and that woman is my mother.
Chapter Eight
Brianna
“What are you doing here?” The words are so cold they almost give my tongue frostbite.
My mother’s eyes dart quickly over to Kendra and then she looks at the floor. “I invited her, Brianna.”
“You?” I turn on my heel pointing my finger at Kendra like a loaded gun. “Seriously? What were you thinking?” Suddenly I realize that the room has gone as quiet as a funeral service and all eyes are on me. Make some popcorn while you’re at it, ladies.
Kendra recognizes that we’re becoming the main event and directs the women back to her onesie decorating sweatshop before leading my mother and I into the kitchen where there’s a little more privacy. “Brianna, that’s no way to act about seeing your mother,” she scolds me like a little child. Maybe it’s appropriate cause right now I feel like throwing a tantrum. “I didn’t think it was right that your parents weren’t included in your life when this is such an important time for you. I can’t tell you how many times I wish I had my mother to talk to since I’ve gotten pregnant.”
“My parents aren’t dead, Kendra. They choose to stay out of my life.” Kendra steps back and raises her hand to her mouth like I punched her in the face with my words. I instantly feel terrible for being so insensitive about the fact that her parents have both passed away, but I’m just so angry that she betrayed me.
“Brianna! That’s no way to talk to your friend. I’m sorry, Kendra, it was a mistake for me to come here.” My mother finally finds her voice.
“No, it wasn’t a mistake.” Kendra holds up her hand, “everyone just needs to calm down for a second.” She walks over to me and puts her hands on my shoulders, looking straight at me, “Brianna, I’m sorry I went behind your back, ok? I know I overstepped my bounds, I do. It’s just that sometimes it’s easier to see things clearly from the outside looking in, and it isn’t right that you and your parents don’t work thin
gs out when you have your first baby on the way.”
“You’re right,” I shake free from her grip, “you did overstep your bounds.” Reason is the last thing I feel like listening to right now, but I can see that Kendra isn’t about to give up.
“Do you remember when I first met Matthew?” Kendra tilts her head at me, her hand clinging to her hip. “I didn’t want anything to do with him, remember?” The memory of a simpler time, when Kendra and I were both waitressing at the diner pops into my head. She had crumpled up Matthew’s number and tossed it, so I called him and gave him her number instead. I had known that she just needed to give him a chance.
“It’s not the same,” I pout, knowing that she’s got me.
“You’re right, it’s actually more important for you to resolve your differences with your parents than it was for me to date Matthew. And that was the most important decision of my life. Just have some lemonade and cake and sit out on the veranda. Hear your mother out, please.”
I look at my mother standing awkwardly beside us and over her shoulder to the living room where the women are doing a terrible job of pretending not to listen in to the drama. Finally, I meet Kendra’s gaze and sigh, my shoulders hunching over, “fine.” A smile spreads across Kendra’s face like a child sneaking out to catch a glimpse of all the presents under the tree on Christmas morning. I pour myself a glass of lemonade and cut a big hunk of the Pinterest-perfect cake that Kendra got to celebrate our joint baby-shower. Somehow, defacing the lovely, three-tiered cake covered in fondant and polka dots makes me feel better. The little plastic stork holding a white sheet carrying two adorable black babies judges me. I decide to ignore the stork and ignore the nosy women in the living room and make my way to the veranda without another word.
As soon as we’re seated at the table, I push the cake away. I just don’t have an appetite right now. “You want this?” My mother looks at it for a second but shakes her head no.
“You look great, Brianna. I can’t believe how small you are, aren’t you five months now?” Her eyes trail down to my slightly puffy belly.
“Yep, almost 20-weeks.”
“I never did understand how far along someone was when they counted in weeks. It’s like when mothers tell me their baby is 31-months and I have to do math to figure out how old the kid is,” she smiles but my stone cold stare quickly evaporates the happiness from her face.
“Is this what you wanted to talk about?”
“No, sorry, I was just trying to make small talk I guess.” She fiddles with her wedding band and avoids my eyes. I can see her eyes are beginning to mist up but she’s trying to hide it from me. “What I wanted to say, is that,” she looks up at me, “I’m sorry.” She wipes the tears forming in the corner of her eyes and I notice for the first time just how tired she looks. I guess it isn’t that she looks tired as much as she’s just growing older, time is showing it’s passage in the lines crinkling her skin.
“Ok well, now I know.” I refuse to let my guard down, I will not open my heart only to have it stomped on again. The way I’m treating my mother may be cruel, but so is turning your back on your child. Twice.
“Brianna, please just hear me out,” she reaches across the table to hold my hand but I recoil from her touch. Instead she folds her hands in her lap and hangs her head. “You know, there hasn’t been a single night that I’ve slept all the way through in eleven years now.” Her voice trembles as she talks down to her chest. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for standing by and letting your father kick you out of the house, because the good Lord knows that I’ve never forgiven myself. I just want to tell you that, if you’ll let me, I’d like to mend the past and prove that I can do better. I know I messed up as a mother, and you have every right to be angry with me, but if you’ll let me in your life I will do everything in my power to be a better Mom and the best Nana that I can.” Her chin trembles and it reminds me of Brooklyn when she gets worked up. I can’t fight my instinct to comfort her, I reach out, offering my hand and the tears spill down her face as she accepts.
“Mama, of course you can be in my life, that’s what I always wanted.” My throat tightens as I fight back my tears, “I didn’t walk out that door, I was pushed out.” She nods and gives my hand a squeeze.
“How about you bring Bradley and Brooklyn over to the house on Sunday after the service? I’ll cook up a big family dinner like we used to have, I’ll even make up a fresh blueberry pie.” She tempts me with my favorite dessert.
“What about Dad?”
“You leave your father to me. If you come over I promise he won’t make a fuss. I let that man push you out of my life once, I’m never going to allow it again.” My mother’s mascara is smudging every time she blinks, emphasizing the bags under her eyes. She looks incredibly weary.
“Ok,” I surprise myself with how quickly I agree. The truth is, this is what my heart wants and my burden already feels lighter just knowing that my Mama wants to build our relationship backup from the ashes. “I’ll talk to Bradley and let you know, but I don’t see it being a problem,” I smile and it’s the first time in a long time that I can remember actually feeling hopeful about my relationship with my Mama. We stand up and my mother gives me a quick hug. Her arms don’t melt around me like they used to when I was a child. Her arms used to be the safest, warmest place I knew and now they feel like rigid tree branches against my back. I hope that I never ruin the comfort of my hugs for my child.
We make our way back inside and the cake has disappeared from the counter, I put my untouched piece by the sink. In the next room the women are cackling and stuffing their faces, it sounds like the party turned out alright after all. Kendra quickly spots us hovering around the island and joins us, her face full of hope. “Hey you two. Did you want to join the fun? We’re about to open up the gifts in a minute.”
“I should get going, actually. Thank you for inviting me though, Kendra. You look very happy and I’m happy for you.” She gives Kendra a hug and I can’t help but notice that it looks less awkward than the one we just shared. My mother gives me a quick peck on the cheek and leaves without saying a word to the crowd of ladies who watch her go. Kendra and I join the group, both acting like nothing happened.
“Ok everyone! It’s time to open some gifts. First I want to thank all of you for coming today and for being so kind as to bring presents. I’ve been told that there’s no such thing as too many toys and diapers, so don’t worry if there are some repeats.” She smiles. “Alright, so here’s one for you Brianna,” she hands me the small present my mother was holding. “And I’ll open this one,” she grabs a huge box with an elaborate bow topping it for herself. I take my gift over to a seat and wonder what my mother brought me. The women are watching as Kendra puts on a show about opening up her present, and frankly I’m happy to have the space I need to recover after that talk I just had.
Sliding my fingers under the scotch tape, I rip open the folded end of paper and tear it off in one pull. In my hands is a little stuffed, gray Scottie dog. Not the typical teddy bear that you’d expect for a newborn, but it’s still cute. Suddenly it dawns on me why the dog looks familiar, it reminds me of Toto from the Wizard of Oz. I loved that movie as a child. I check the tag around it’s neck demanding that I squeeze him. As soon as I wrap my hand around his middle the faint notes of “Somewhere over the Rainbow” fill my ears. I freeze in place as my mind flashes back to when my mother used to sing me this song, rubbing her hand over my hair, soothing away my fears. The tears that I’ve been holding back burst from me like a fire hydrant as sobs wrack my body. That song has always been the one memory that remained untainted by the years of quiet anger and now I can pass it on to my child.
Chapter Nine
Bradley
With the hectic noises of the new Zervion campaign being hushed by my office door, I take a seat at my desk. Opening the famous robin-egg blue box, I’m drawn in by the exquisite details of the custom designed engagement ring. After looking
through what felt like thousands of options with Brooklyn, the jeweler offered to create a unique piece for Brianna. Brooklyn was thrilled to feel included in something so special, even though her only real contribution was that it needed to be “super sparkling!” She’ll be happy when she sees that her request was taken seriously, the princess cut diamond is just about the sparkliest thing I’ve ever seen.
Waiting for this piece of art to be created has been painful. It’s taken nearly a month for the ring to be designed, but in the end the wait turned out to be a blessing. Originally, I was going to propose as soon as I possibly could. However, now that Brianna has told me about her mother trying to make amends, I’ve decided to wait. I’m going to propose to Brianna either way, but I’m a man who respects tradition. If Brianna’s father is on the same page as her mother about being in her life, then I can hold off for a bit if it means doing things right and asking for his daughter’s hand in marriage. However, if he thinks he’s going to talk to her the way he did in the Church again then he better make it a good speech because it’ll be the last one we’ll be listening to. There’s no way I’m going to let someone undercut the woman I love and tear her heart out like he did, even if it’s her own father.
