“I know, son.” She gives his arm a squeeze, bringing his face up to hers. “I’m sorry things are like this—that you’re left disappointed.”
Jay lifts a shoulder and takes a bite of his dinner. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on here. Jo said Chad wasn’t worth the oxygen it would take to talk about him, but he didn’t only hurt her. Jay must be constantly reminded that his father is absent from his life. Cutting my eyes to Abby, I see she’s repeatedly twirling her noodles on her fork.
Silence stretches long, but finally Jo breaks it. “Abby, it’s your turn. Whoops and poops.”
Abby looks up from her plate wearing a tiny smile. “My whoop is there’s a new girl in band. Amelia.”
Jo’s face lights up. “She’s in my ArtStrong program! I met her today. Seems like a sweet kid.”
Abby nods. “I like her. Since she’s new she doesn’t have a chair placement, so I wasn’t close to her. But after band class wetalked for a minute. She said she likes my shoes.” Abby points a finger toward the foyer where all the shoes are piled.
“Maybe she can come over this weekend,” Jo suggests. “Did you have a poop?”
Jay can no longer hold in his laughter. He giggles, banging his hand on the table. Jo shakes her head, smiling, and Abby is nothing short of annoyed at her brother.
Jay finally calms down, and Jo opens her mouth to ask again, but Abby cuts her off.
“Savannah and Kayley are at it again. They stuck a note on my locker today that said Ugly Band Nerd.”
Jo’s fork clatters to her plate. “I am so tired of this mean girl bullshit. Is this why you acted strange when I bragged on you at Thanksgiving?”
Abby’s eyes drop to her plate and she shrugs. “Yeah. This isn’t the first time they’ve made fun of me.”
Abby’s words hit harder than I expect. A sharp pang stabs through my chest, and I rub it right over my sternum, like I can ease the ache.
Is this what it feels like to be a parent? Like wearing your heart on the outside of your chest?
I’ve only known for a few days she’s mine and I’m ready to take down anyone who would insult her. Or at least have a talk with their parents. I don’t hear Jo’s response over the pounding in my ears. How do parents do this every single day?
Abby stands, rummages in her backpack, and produces a yellow sticky note with the words scrawled across it.
“And you’re sure it was them?” Jo asks.
Abby nods, and Jo sets her mouth in a grim line.
“I’ll handle this. I promise, Abs.”
Then Abby turns her eyes toward me. “Your turn.”
“Well,” I begin slowly. “My whoop is sitting here with you guys.” I know what’s coming next, and it’s not a negative exactly, more a fear. A fear that Jo will keep me at arm’s length and I’ll never have a chance to get to know my daughter, Jo, andJay. All I can do is keep showing up until one day, she lets me in.
“And your…” Jo starts. Jay is on the edge of his seat, eagerly awaiting the word. Jo glances at him and back at me, smiling. “Not so great part of the day?”
Knowing damn well my thoughts have no business out in the open, instead I lock eyes with Jo and say, “It’s been a great day, Jo. Being here with you guys has really been great.” It’s not much, but maybe she hears the sincerity in my words.
“Your turn, Mom,” Abby says to Jo.
Jo’s gaze drops to her plate, absentmindedly swirling her noodles on her fork. “My day was fine. No poops.”
Jay howls with laughter, basketball coach momentarily forgotten, and Jo laughs along, but the humor doesn’t reach her eyes.
Abby and Jay have gone to their rooms to finish up their homework, and Jo disappears saying she’ll be right back. Looking around at the dishes from dinner, I begin rinsing each one to load into the dishwasher.
Footsteps sound moving closer to the kitchen, and I feel Jo’s gaze, heavy on me. In her hand is a beat up shoe box that looks like it’s seen better days.
“What are you doing?” she asks warily.
“What does it look like I’m doing? You cooked, now I’ll clean. Sit down and rest. Neither your brain nor your body has slowed down since you got home.”
