Yet wouldn’t it be ironic for him to think that, considering the circumstances? I’d at least like to find my bearings, especially since I’m back in Madison and staying at the lovely Ritter Inn. More importantly, I’ve agreed to take Caylen to see Chris and the Scotts later on today, and I’ve been having so much anxiety over that.
What if Chris freaks out and can’t deal with all of this? What if Caylen doesn’t like him? What if she likes him too much? Aside from all of the obvious weirdness of the situation, how am I going to adjust to sharing my daughter with a person I don’t know? I’ve been a single parent so long. I don’t know how co-parenting really works. I grew up with Raven raising me pretty much on her own. I wonder how people do this—make long-distance parenting work? I guess I’m jumping too far ahead of myself. In three hours, we’ll all find out.
The last time I met him at this house, I had a complete nervous breakdown. He offered to come to Chicago to meet Caylen, but I thought that would be weird for both of us. I’m trying to be optimistic about getting away from there. Staying has become increasingly difficult after everything that has happened. I really think I’m going to sell the penthouse and start over.
I pick up Caylen’s gray sweater, pink leggings, and khaki Ugg boots. It took me twenty outfits before I decided what she should wear.
It’s a surreal feeling getting her dressed to meet Chris. Especially after all the days when I wondered what it would be like for Cal to hold her. To see how he’d be with a tiny version of himself.
Well, that’s not going to happen now
.
Even if she wasn’t going anywhere special, I always dress her like my own little doll. These days, I spend more time planning what she wears than I do for myself. It’s actually been a while since I’ve worn more than a T-shirt and jeans. I haven’t had anyone to dress up for in a long time, but today I’ve tried to plan the appropriate thing. I don’t want to look as though I didn’t put any thought into what I’m wearing, but I also don’t want to look as though I spent too much. I mean… there’s no reason for me to worry anyway. It’s not as though I haven’t already made a first impression with my hair tangled and mascara dripping down my face.
I decide on being Caylen’s twin with a long gray sweater and leggings. But instead of bubble-gum pink, I decide on black of course. I’m hoping to redeem myself from the image of the hysterical, yelling crazy woman they met before. Not that they didn’t deserve it after everything that’s happened. I move my thoughts from my last meeting at the Scotts’ to the last time Chris was here in this room. I think about how he seemed just as nervous as I was, almost more so. Still, other than the nervous energy, something about him was a little calming. Do I dare say… comfortable?
I glance at the clock. I have less than an hour before Caylen’s usual wake-up time. I grab my things and head to the bathroom for a quick shower, hoping to relax at the beginning of what’s sure to be a nerve-racking day.
“Okay, Lauren, you can do this,” I say to myself. Then I look in the rearview mirror and see Caylen smiling at me. “You must think Mommy’s crazy, huh?”
I smile at her, and a few of my nerves dissipate. She’s so innocent. I’m glad she’s young enough that none of this awkward weirdness is affecting her. I start to wonder if I should call or just go up to the Scotts’ door. That didn’t turn out so great the last time. At least I know I won’t go into emotional overload today. I can’t. Not while she’s here. I drum my hands on the steering wheel to calm my nerves. I mean, the worst is behind me. The only thing that would make this worse than last time would be if Chris came to the door in drag. I giggle at that image.
I tried to kill time on the way here by having breakfast with Caylen at a little diner named Goldman’s. I haven’t had a good bowl of grits since I moved from Saginaw. Caylen enjoyed playing
in her applesauce and hash browns more than she enjoyed actually eating them. I look at my watch and notice its nine fifteen. I told him I’d be here at nine thirty. Is it rude to show up early? I glance at the house and see someone holding the curtains open at the front window.
Oh no, they see me!
Well, someone does. If I sit out here now, I’ll look like a stalker or weirdo. Okay, it’s now or never.
I get out of the car and take a deep breath. I pull Caylen out of her car seat and close the door. I guess this is it. I never really prayed before, but I quietly ask God to give me strength to deal with this and not make a complete fool out of myself.
The door to the house opens, and I watch as a six-foot figure walks through it. I feel myself getting nervous, and I take another deep breath. I squeeze Caylen’s little hand as we walk toward the towering front porch. Her tiny steps are making this the longest walk ever. I look up at him, and I’m caught by his eyes—they’re bright green with glimmers of gray. As he walks closer, his smile widens. I glance down at Caylen, whose little steps quicken.
“Hi,” I say, my voice light and unfamiliar.
“Hey,” he replies, his voice warm but shaky.
His smile widens even more as his big hands squeeze the little stuffed animal he’s holding. I can feel my heart speeding up. I let go of Caylen’s hand once we’re on the sidewalk. She quickly makes her way over to him. She reaches up for the penguin he’s holding, and he chuckles, staring at her in what I can only describe as amazement.
“Umm, my friend’s daughter loves the penguins in the
Madagascar
movie. I thought she’d like it,” he explains nervously.
“She watches that movie all the time,” I reply and notice the wonderment on his face. I watch as he squats down to her eye level.
“I thought you might like this,” he says, holding out the little penguin.
“Pepe!” she says excitedly, taking the penguin and putting it in her mouth.
He looks up at me in wonder. “She looks so much like my baby pictures.”
I think he didn’t mean that to be heard. Watching him take in the sight of her gives me a feeling I’ve never had before. The emotions evident on his face as he watches her play with the little stuffed penguin are indescribable.
“I’m Chris, Caylen,” he says, his voice slightly cracking.
His eyes glisten, and I think I see tears in them. I walk closer to them and squat as well. I apprehensively touch his shoulder. Caylen touches his face and giggles.
In this moment, I know for sure the man beside me is not the one I knew. I take a deep breath and prepare myself to say something I didn’t plan on saying. I didn’t know how or when I would say it to her. If there would ever be the right time to say it. But now I know without a doubt. “Caylen, this is your daddy.”
I promised myself I wouldn’t do this, but it’s impossible not to. I never thought, after all the anger, worry, and fear, that this moment would turn out this way. The anxiety and stress in the pit of my stomach are replaced with something I haven’t felt in so long.
Peace.
I wipe away my tears, which are starting to fall, and he stops me, holding my hand gently.
“Thank you, Lauren.” His voice and eyes are full of sorrow, sincerity, and concern.
And for the first time in my life, I’m able to read the face looking at me. There’s nothing hiding the emotions there, nothing trying to camouflage them.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he says to her.
In the briefest second, he turns toward me, his smile familiar, and he winks at me. My breath hitches. And as fast as the moment happened—before I can verify it even did happen—it’s gone.
“Lauren?” he asks, a look of concern on his face.
He’s staring at me and… it’s still Chris, but I know for a second it wasn’t
. He
was here—Cal. I move closer to him. I hesitantly bring my hand to his face, wondering if he’ll even let me touch him. He does.
I ignore the familiar emotions that pass through me.
Before this moment, I felt as though I was giving up the only person I’ve ever been in love with and doing it for the only person in the world I love more than him—his daughter. I have to… right?
“I-is everything okay, Lauren?” He lets out a light laugh, his cheeks turning red.
I only nod, looking at the ground. Everything will be okay.
I’ll make sure it stays that way.
I have to…
…even if I break.
Out of the past six years of my life, I only remember about half of it. After a dozen doctors and thousands in medical bills, I was diagnosed with a rare neurological disorder--one that causes me to lose track of time. Sometimes it’s hours, days or even weeks with no recollection of anything. The good thing is it’s been almost two years since I had my last ‘black out’. It sounds much better than what the doctors refer to them as, ‘episodes’, like my life is a freakin’ comedy.