“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s ok. I’m not really that upset at the moment. But the reality of not having a boyfriend might hit me eventually, and then I’ll probably be in shambles.”
“You’ll be great, Paige,” I said, patting the back of her hand. “Just think of all the fun you can have now, and all the anxiety that you’ve saved yourself from.” I turned to Maya, trying to think of some sort of transition. “How are you and Matt?” I asked nervously, hoping not to upset Paige with the mention of her previous ex-boyfriend.
“We’re good.” I noticed Maya looking over at him. He and Tristan and a couple of other guys from the football team were sitting a few tables over. Matt seemed unaware of our gaze on them. Tristan, on the other hand, was looking directly at us, smirking smugly. “I’ve just been feeling like maybe we spend too much time together, so I was thinking it might be nice if I could join you two for lunch sometimes. Would that be ok?”
“You mean you don’t enjoy eating your lunch surrounded by a bunch of numskulls?” asked Paige. “That doesn’t include Matt, by the way. He’s just guilty by association.”
Maya laughed, biting into a slice of pizza. “I know Tristan can be a jerk, but that’s mostly because he thinks it impresses everyone. One-on-one, he’s not so bad. He’s actually kind of a softie.”
Paige scrunched up her face, taking a bite of her salad. “Well, yeah. I think it’s cool if you want to eat lunch with us,” I said. I looked at Paige, who was still chewing. “Mmmhmm,” she said, without opening her mouth.
“Cool,” said Maya. She smiled sweetly. “I’ve missed having girl time.”
“Me too,” I said. I worried a little that I was getting myself into a situation I’d regret. Would letting Maya into the fold mean losing my friendship with Paige? Would the two of them get along? Was Paige determined not to like her? Would the two of them become best friends and leave me on the outskirts? Maya had already stolen my crush. Was this whole story about wanting more girl time an act, a plot to steal my best friend as well? Ok, that last thought was over-the-top, and I knew it. Maya had apologized for what happened with Matt, and I believed it to be sincere. I had forgiven her, and now it was time to make an effort to be her friend again. I had to trust her, and trust that my friendship with Paige was strong enough to adjust to some changes, like when a young married couple has their first baby together. Over the next few minutes, we continued chatting about Paige and Tom’s breakup, the ups and downs of Maya’s relationship with Matt, and my own relationship with Sean. “I hope I can meet him soon,” said Maya.
“They’re adorable together,” said Paige.
Thinking about Sean made me smile. I was proud to be his girlfriend, not because I’d been desperately hoping for a boyfriend since my freshman year and had thought that having one was the solution to almost every problem I faced, but because I really liked him, maybe even loved him. Yes, I loved him, although I hadn’t said it aloud to anyone yet. I loved him for being considerate, for consistently thinking of my needs before his own wants. I loved him for being artistic and intellectual. I loved him for being a good role model, for choosing to volunteer with underprivileged kids, not because he needed to in order to impress colleges, but because he wanted to. The only thing that was missing right now was the opportunity to volunteer with him. I knew that the chance would come along in the summer, but in dreary December, summer seemed like such a long way away.
By the time lunch ended, the feelings of trepidation toward reconciling with Maya had faded. Even Paige, who seemed a little cold and tense at first, had loosened up and appeared to enjoy the additional company. “Thanks, Paige,” I said to her as we walked to English class together.
“Thanks for what?” she asked.
“For being so cool with Maya. I was worried you might not get along with her.”
“Any bad feelings I had toward Maya were out of support for you. But if you’re over it, then I guess I should be too. And you know, once I started giving her a chance, I actually liked her.”
I put my arm around Paige, giving her a side hug as we approached Ms. Rose’s classroom. It seemed almost outlandish to think that just a few months earlier I had offered to clean her house for the opportunity to attend her party. Since then, we’d both evolved so much, Paige’s edges softening, mine solidifying, enabling the two of us to fit together like pieces of a puzzle, a puzzle that was still expanding as more and more pieces were added on or replaced. I guess that’s what life is, a jigsaw puzzle that just keeps growing and changing as some pieces fall away and others fit into place. And, given the circumstances, the puzzle of my life was feeling almost as complete as it could. There were a few gaps here and there, but the border was coming together, and I was liking the way it looked.
Chapter 18
It was winter break, and Christmas was less than a week away. I had started to pick up babysitting jobs a couple of weeks earlier so that I could save up some money to buy gifts. I had my mom advertise my services on the online neighborhood forum she’s on, letting other members know that I was available on Friday and Saturday nights, and she started receiving requests almost immediately. One of the families had a toddler. She was really cute, but cried for her mom for the first forty-five minutes. I finally calmed her down after finding the remote for the TV and putting on Daniel Tiger. I gave her some crackers and milk from a sippy cup, and after the show was over helped her change into a Disney Princess nightgown. She proudly named all of the princesses for me. ‘Dis one’s Jasmine, ‘dis one’s cinderewa, ‘dis one’s sweeping beauty and ‘dis one’s Tiana. I told her how much I loved the princess nightgown and helped her into her little bed with a mesh rail to keep her from rolling out. I left her lamp on until she fell asleep, as instructed by her mom. I went back into the room a couple of times, once because I heard her crying (she couldn’t find her favorite stuffed dog, which had been covered up by her numerous blankets) and again after she had fallen asleep to turn off her lamp and make sure she was covered up. I was exhausted after just a couple of hours, and couldn’t imagine doing it every single night. Although, I suppose people with their own kids get used to it, like I’d gotten used to cleaning after school.
The extra work kept me busy, and made it harder to spend time with Sean, but all in all I’d made over three hundred dollars, which was enough to buy something for everyone on my relatively short list. The gift I was most excited to give was Sean’s. On the first day of break, Paige drove me to an art supply store near the University, and I asked the young, heavily tattooed woman who worked there to show me the best set of pencils I could buy for a serious artist. She walked down one of the aisles and came back with a small tin box with a French name on the label. “These are the best pencils we sell,” she said. “They’re not cheap, but they’re worth the price. They’ll make a great gift.”
Paige balked at the price. “Are you sure you want to spend a hundred dollars on a box of pencils?”
I thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yep, I do. Sean deserves it.”
“Ok,” she said with a sigh. “He better get you something really good.”
“I don’t care if he does or not.” I took my wallet from my bag and counted out enough cash to make the purchase. “I’m just happy to give something nice to him.”
“Ok. It’s your money,” she said with the tone of a concerned parent.
I laughed and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “I know. I know. It will all be ok.” The tattooed woman took my money and gave me the pencil box in a little paper bag with handles.
“I wish I had a boyfriend to buy a gift for. Maybe I should have waited until after the holidays to break up with Tom.”
“Just take the money you would have spent on him and buy something nice for yourself. Then you’ll probably feel better.”
“That’s good advice. Do you want to go to the mall?”
“Sure. I still have a few more gifts to buy.” We left the store and stepped out
onto the sidewalk. It was a sunny day, and unseasonably warm, thanks to climate change. It was starting to feel too hot for the thin, dark grey fleece jacket I’d had on. Although I enjoyed the warmth, it did feel peculiar to go around town in a t-shirt just a week before Christmas. I wondered, what would Christmas weather feel like in a decade? Would Ohio become the new Florida? Would tales of sled-riding and snow angels become legends?
“Should we see if Maya wants to meet us?” Paige used her key fob to unlock her car, which was parked just outside of the shop.
“Yeah, I’ll call her.” I was surprised by Paige’s suggestion to include Maya, but pleasantly so. Global warming be damned, it was going to be a good day.
Paige dropped me off at my house later that evening, around dinnertime. Outside it was dark, but my street was well-lit with multi-colored strands of lights on many of the houses and trees lining the streets. My mom had wrapped some around the two little juniper trees on either side of the walkway leading to the front door. I walked in, carrying the bag with Sean’s pencils and two other bags from purchases I made at the mall. It felt satisfying, having my Christmas shopping completed and having spent the afternoon with my two best friends, who were now also friends with one another.
When I went inside, my mom was sitting on the couch in the living room looking anxious. She stood up almost immediately and helped me put my bags on the floor. “I’m glad you’re finally home,” she said, her voice sounding a bit shaky.
“Is everything ok?” I asked. My first thought was that something had happened to one of my grandparents, but I knew she would have called if that had been the case.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Do you want to sit for a minute?”
We both sat down, her on the couch and me in the armchair next to it. I looked at her, nervously waiting to hear what she had to say. Was it something about my school? Was she selling the house? Was she quitting her job and moving to Bermuda? They all seemed like real possibilities.
She took a deep breath. “I know that you know about the circumstances surrounding your father, my relationship with him, and why he hasn’t been in our lives. And you know, you’ve always been so understanding of that. I don’t know what it’s like to grow up without a father, without even knowing who my father is. And yet you’ve done that, without ever complaining or showing any sign of resentment. I want to thank you for that, and let you know that I’m sorry you didn’t get to have a dad like I did.”
My stomach twisted at the mention of my father. It wasn’t like my mom to bring him up out of nowhere. “It’s ok. I mean, I had you, and Grandma and Grandpa. I guess I’ve been curious at times, but I understand why you made your choice to stop seeing him.”
“I just wish you had gotten to know him,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling a sense of dread over how she would answer. “Is he dead?”
“Oh no,” said my mom. She . Her ponytail, which was usually pulled back tight, was now loose, a few free stands hanging down around her face. “Not at all. I just meant that I wish you had gotten to know him when you were younger. But actually, I’ve been in contact with him recently. He just got a divorce from his wife, for reasons that have nothing to do with either of us, according to him anyway, and I guess he feels like he no longer has anything to hide. And now that you’re older and can better understand why things happened the way they did, I don’t really think I need to shelter you from the situation as much. So, he was wondering, would you like to meet him?”
“Meet him? Like in person? Face to face?”
My mom leaned forward, putting her hand on my knee. “Well yes, if you want to. He’s very interested in meeting you, if you’re willing to do it.”
Meet my dad. See him in person. Talk to him. Try to get to know him. Try to help him get to know me, after sixteen years of living life without him. As overwhelming as it might seem, I knew without hesitation that I wanted to do it. “Yes,” I said. “I am.”
The next day, my father, whose name is Greg, called me and asked if we could meet for lunch. He suggested Cena, an Italian bakery and café in the shopping center near our house in Norwood. “I’ll just do some shopping nearby,” said my mom when she dropped me off in front of the café. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to come back.” She hugged me before I got out of the car. I felt a little like a kid being dropped off for my first day of school. I was excited to start this new chapter of my life, but nervous because I didn’t know what to expect. Would Greg and I like each other? Would we agree on the issues that mattered most to me? Would he end up being one of those “all lives matter,” type of people? Chances are that issue wouldn’t come up in our first meeting, unless I came out and asked him about it directly. Maybe, I thought, I should have made a list of questions, like an employer giving a job interview. So, you suddenly want to be my dad after sixteen years? Well, let’s see whether or not you have what it takes.
When I walked in, I saw him sitting at a table in the far-right corner of the room. He stood up when he saw me, smiling nervously. I walked toward him, knowing I recognized his face, his slicked back wavy hair and wired-rim glasses. Where had I seen him?
“Look at you. So grown up, and beautiful, just like your mother,” he said when I reached the table. “I knew it was you.”
“Have we met before?” I asked, sitting down in the chair across from his.
“We didn’t meet exactly, but I walked by you a few months ago. It was Downtown, near Washington Park. You were standing outside a diner with a boy about your age. When I saw you, it felt like getting hit by a truck. You look so much like your mother. I just knew it was you. I wanted to stop and ask you your name, you know, verify my intuition. But I didn’t want to catch you off-guard like that, without knowing whether or not you wanted anything to do with me.” He paused for a moment, taking a slurp from his coffee mug. After setting the mug down he continued. “So, I just kept walking, but I kept thinking about it, week after week, until I finally decided to get in touch with your mom. And I’m very grateful you know, that you agreed to meet me. I’m sorry it’s taken so long. Sometimes I wish things had been different, but I guess you know the circumstances surrounding my relationship with your mother, and why it was so complicated.”
I took it all in, then began to laugh. “If only I’d known,” I said. I told him about Sean’s interpretation of the event, and his comment about him being old enough to be our dad. “But I never would have guessed that you really were my dad. I never expected we would just randomly cross paths.”
“I always wondered,” said Greg, wagging his pointer finger in the air ever so slightly. “I always wondered if I would recognize you if I happened to see you like that. And I did! It was an amazing feeling, but even more amazing to have you sitting across from me right now. Are you hungry? I’m sure you’re hungry.” He flagged down the waitress, who came by and took my order of iced tea and a turkey club. For the next fifteen minutes or so I did my best to fill him in on my life, telling him about Sean, how we met while volunteering at Taft Elementary, and about my cleaning scholarship at East Point Prep. It was like catching up with an old friend, the way he listened attentively and laughed or cringed at all the right moments.
Then he told me about his other children, two of whom were in college and one who was a year younger than me. He confessed that he hadn’t told them about me yet, but that he would when the time was right, after the shock and anger over his divorce from their mother had lessened a bit. Although I was curious about them, how they looked and what their personalities were like, the thought of meeting them in person was a little terrifying. I assumed that they would hate me, and would surely blame me for the dissolution of their parents’ marriage, even though Greg insisted it had nothing to do with me or my mother. “Our divorce had been in the cards for years,” he said. “Shelly hadn’t been happy in a long time. I wasn’t always a good husband, as you obviously know, and there was a lot that she resented me for, things
like spending too much time at work and not enough time with the family, for expecting her to be the parent on duty all the time, not giving her more opportunities to take time for herself. She doesn’t even know about my affair with your mother.”
“If she had known would she have left you then?” I asked.
He sat quietly for a moment, rubbing his thumbs along his coffee mug. “I don’t know.” He said. “I thought that she might, but I knew that either way she would be really hurt, and I didn’t want to put our family through that.”
It was a strange thought, knowing how much pain my existence could possibly cause another person that I hadn’t met before. It was a reality that I hadn’t fully grasped before, or that maybe I just hadn’t let myself accept. To Shelly my birth would have been pain, a betrayal by someone she loved and depended on. I felt my face turn hot, recognizing that my birth hadn’t been celebrated by both of my parents, that one of my parents was concealing it, hampered by shame and guilt. But then I remembered what my mom had said, about never doubting that she wanted me. Maybe it didn’t really matter what Shelly would have thought about me then or now. I was my mother’s daughter, my grandparent’s granddaughter, and nobody else’s opinions would ever change that. “Was it hard to keep me a secret from her?” I asked finally.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve done.”
My mom picked me up an hour later. Greg stood outside with me and waved to her as she pulled up in front of the café. She smiled and waved back. “I’ll call you later,” she said to him as I got into the passenger seat. I realized, looking at both of them looking at each other, that my mom had parted her hair differently, more to one side instead of directly down the middle, and that she’d traded in the baggy, cowl-neck sweater for a more form-fitting turtleneck. She looked lovely, and I was sure Greg had noticed.
“How was it?” she asked, beaming with elation.
“It was good,” I said. “I think I’m still in shock.”
Darcy, Defined Page 17
