Authors: Suzan Colón
I HAD MY EVENING with Daniel all planned out.
I envisioned a night exactly like the one when Bethy had unintentionally encouraged me to invite him over, with all the usual mayhem of a child and toys everywhere and un-fancy food and constantly interrupted conversations. Ray, Bethy, and Celia were heading up to Santa Cruz to visit Ray’s parents for the weekend, so it would just be me, Amanda, and Daniel. Before they leave, my sister makes me take the strongest oath we know, the double crossed-wrist pinky-swear, that I will not sleep with Daniel. I wrap my little fingers around hers without hesitation, for sex with my ex is not part of my plan.
No, I simply want him to see my life in all its beautiful normalcy. I’m not sure what his reaction will be, whether he’ll set a new speed record to get away from us or go back to his hotel and weep that all of this could have been his if he’d just been man enough to go for it. Either way, he’s going home tonight for good, because he’s just too risky.
Daniel is a wonderful man. I know he thinks he can show up for me, but it’s not just me anymore. Despite all those pretty words he said, I don’t believe he’s up for my new reality as a mother with another man’s child. He’s still in love with a memory of me. I have a memory of him, too, and I know it’s only a matter of time before this gets too serious and he freaks out and runs.
My plan is to have him over for a normal evening of me cooking and Amanda being either charming or a small, cuter version of The Exorcist. She’s either or these days, very little in between. Then I’ll tell him it’s been nice to see him, but we might as well say goodbye. We’re going to get there soon enough anyway.
MY PLANS, HOWEVER, never come together the way I want them to.
I wanted Daniel to see my real life, but things are a little too real, even for me. Amanda has been cutting a new tooth and was up all last night, so that meant I was up all last night, too. Neither of us took a nap today—she, because she didn’t want to and screamed every time I put her down, and me, because she didn’t want me to and screamed every time I tried to lie down.
Now I’m completely exhausted, and she’s still going strong. I barely get my jeans and a decent peasant top on, run a brush through my hair, and throw on some mascara—a sport of Olympic difficulty as my overtired kid keeps batting my arm—before I hear the door chimes ring.
Oh, how I wanted to be calm, rested, and able to string a sentence together. One last hasty look in the mirror reveals a woman who was probably pretty in another life, who now needs a large glass of wine and some sleep. Crap.
“Let go, let go, let
go
!” Amanda fusses as I carry her with me. She tries to struggle out of my arms, so I deposit her in a Boppy on the living room floor on my way to get the door.
I know what I look like, but Daniel gazes at me like I’m a beauty pageant winner. I even feel the part when he hands me a huge bouquet of roses wrapped in a pink silk ribbon.
“Hey pretty Katy,” he says, his dimple-revealing grin sweet and a little shy. Even dressed casually, he looks amazing, in dark jeans, a long-sleeved white shirt, and a cool black leather blazer.
“Wow, these are gorgeous,” I say, taking the bouquet of what must be two dozen long-stemmed roses. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for having me over for dinner,” he says as he comes in.
“Believe me, it’s not going to be anything special,” I mutter, wondering whether I should call for pizza or Chinese since I never had time to make anything.
“Daddy!” Amanda squeals. She bounces in the Boppy, holding her arms up to be lifted. “Daddy!”
“Hey, little princess,” Daniel says, setting the bottle of wine he brought on the table and scooping her up. He gives her a loud
mmmm-wah
kiss on the forehead, making her laugh, and he carries her as he walks around the living room, chatting with her easily, asking to see her new teeth, making a big deal about them.
“Daddy,” she says again.
It’s such a natural scene, yet to me it seems supernatural, a dream-product of my over-tired mind. It’s beautiful
. . .
and it makes me grit my teeth. I carelessly put the huge bouquet of roses on the side table as I stride over to them. “Amanda, that’s not Daddy. This is Daniel. Say ‘Daniel,’ Amanda.”
“Daddy,” she repeats, patting his cheek.
Daniel looks at me and smiles sheepishly.
“Try ‘Danny,’ Amanda,” I say. No, I order. There’s an edge in my voice. Carson is her father. Carson, who couldn’t wait to marry me. Carson, who wanted to spend the rest of his life with me—and did, only neither of us knew it would be so short.
“
Daddy
,” Amanda repeats obstinately.
I can tell from the look on her face, pouty and challenging, that she understood the distinction just fine and is telling me how it’s going to go. It makes me mad. I can’t believe how attached my daughter is to Daniel, who is nearly a stranger to her. She doesn’t even glom on to her Uncle Ray the way she’s tucking herself into Daniel’s neck right now. It’s not fair. Carson never even got to meet his daughter, and now Amanda is calling Daniel her daddy. Maybe it’s not right that I feel this way, but I do.
“Peanut, come here,” I say, reaching for her.
“No,” she says, turning away from me and wrapping her arms around Daniel’s neck.
“Amanda, he’s not your father,” I say, trying to pry her off of him. “Come to Mommy.”
“Katy,” Daniel says, “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not! Just give her to me!” I try again to pull Amanda off of him, but she screams “No, no,
no
!”
in that piercing way that only small children can, nearing a tantrum. As am I. “Amanda, come here
now
!”
“Katy,” Daniel says softly, “She’s fine, it’s okay—”
“It’s
not
okay!”
“But why?”
“Because I don’t want her to get attached to you!” I scream. “I don’t want her calling you ‘Daddy’ and getting used to you being around when you’re just going to leave and break
both
of our hearts this time!”
Amanda begins shrieking, her cheeks red and wet with tears as she clings to Daniel. My own tears, hot with anger and pain, spill onto my face. Daniel is looking at me with a sad, but not surprised, expression. Somehow, even through Amanda’s screams, I hear him quietly say, “I’m not going to leave you. Either of you.”
“You
will
,” I seethe through a sob. “You’ll make me think you’re here and that you love me, but you’ll go. You did, my father did, even Carson left me!” I want to say more, to yell, to scream like Amanda is screaming, but I can’t because I’m sobbing so hard I can’t breathe.
Then, everything goes dark and warm.
Daniel enfolds me with his free arm. My face is in his chest, partially muffling Amanda’s wails, but I can hear him speaking softly to both of us. “It’s okay, it’s okay . . . shhh, everything’s all right. Just having a hard day, that’s all. I know. Shhh.”
I sink into Daniel, weeping. How long have I needed this? Someone’s arm around me, a strong, capable chest to cry into, to be held and reassured. This was one of Daniel’s best traits. Sadness never scared him. He understood it completely, and whenever I needed to cry, he didn’t try to stop me. He just made me feel safe.
“It’s okay, Katy,” Daniel says, kissing the top of my head. “It’s okay, Princess Peanut,” he says to Amanda, combining both of our nicknames for her. He holds us both, and gradually, she quiets, as do I.
I WAKE UP ON my bed, covered with a blanket. I remember Daniel telling me to lie down and tucking me in, saying I needed a little rest.
Wait, where’s Amanda? Maternal concern shocks me upright, but then I hear voices next door. Still dazed from my nap, my eyes puffy from crying, I walk quietly toward Amanda’s room.
I hear familiar words being spoken before I get there, Daniel animatedly reading one of Amanda’s favorite bedtime stories. I look into the room through the partially open door. Daniel is sitting in my glider rocking chair, holding my daughter, reading to her. She is quiet, rapt, and very happy. When he closes the book, she says, “Again!”
Daniel laughs. “Really, a sixth time? Okay, either you love this book or I need to do dramatic readings.” He sees me in the doorway and smiles. “Look who’s here, Princess. It’s Mommy!”
“Hey, Peanut! Oh, baby, I’m sorry, you must be starving,” I say, feeling like I went from beauty pageant winner to Bad Mother of the Year.
“She had dinner,” Daniel says, still holding her, rocking easily back and forth.
“What? How?”
“What do you mean, ‘how’?” Daniel laughs. “I fed her. There were chicken nuggets in the freezer,” he says. “I called Ray to find out if that was okay, make sure Amanda wasn’t allergic to anything. Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” I say, “I’m just kind of stunned that you made my kid dinner. And basically babysat her while I was passed out. Hey, how did you get Ray’s number?”
“It was on a list of emergency numbers on the fridge.” Daniel tries not to grin too proudly at me. “I’m not a total dork, you know.”
“I didn’t say you were a
total
dork. I just didn’t know you knew how to take care of kids.”
“I don’t.” His face turns more solemn. “I can learn.”
Amanda starts to drop off, and I gently take her from Daniel and put her down in her crib. We both look at her, because a sleeping baby can inspire awe in anyone, and then I motion for him to follow me outside. He hangs back, his hand in the crib, touching Amanda’s tiny fingers. Then he follows me to the living room.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” I say, not sitting down.
Daniel looks confused. “What are you sorry about?”
“Two females having complete meltdowns on you, for one thing.”
He looks himself over. “I seem to have survived.”
“And the way I yelled at you.”
He shrugs. “You needed to yell.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have yelled, but I meant what I said, Daniel,” I tell him, crossing my arms. “I
. . .
I don’t want you to come around anymore.” He looks stricken, but I have to say this. “I don’t want Amanda getting attached to you.”
“But why?”
“Because—” I lower my voice, not wanting to wake my child. “Because of what I said before.”
“Katy,” Daniel says, taking a step toward me, “I told you I’m not leaving.”
“Right,” I scoff. “Look, all the things you said to me were very nice. It’s a lovely way to end our story.”
“This isn’t a story you’re writing,” he says with an edge in his words. “These are our lives, Katy. Our life, together.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a package deal now,” I say, nodding toward Amanda’s bedroom.
“I think you’ve noticed that I like the package,” Daniel says. His words are light, but his expression is serious. “I mean it, Katy. I’m not leaving this time, or ever. I made this mistake before. I’m not making it again. I love you. And I love Amanda.”
“Don’t you
dare—
!” My voice is rising again, so I grab his arm and drag him by the sleeve into the nearest room, my bedroom, and close the door almost all the way. “Don’t you dare say that!”
“It’s the truth!” he insists. I know Daniel well enough to know when he’s being honest, and everything that’s radiating from his warm brown eyes right now is pure. “I love you, and I love Amanda. I know that’s not easy for you to believe.”