Page 20 of Dreaming Without Heartache

I drive off once both girls are buckled in. When I look through the rearview mirror, they’re both looking out the window on their side. “What did you do last night?” I ask. No response. “Did you play games?”

“We watched television,” Kara finally says. It’s clear now that something’s wrong.

“Sam and her brother came over for dinner last night with me and Steven. We missed you two.” I glance back at them, trying to catch a reaction.

“Was Olivia there?” Kara asks, her eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. She misses her best friend. I wish that I could let them hang out, but I have to stand my ground on this punishment. Annie would do the same.

“No. She was with her dad. Sam brought her brother, Luke. Steven sends his love to you both, though.” Maisie keeps her eyes on the window. My stomach sinks at her lack of response. I know how much she loves Steven. Something must have happened at Judy’s.

Silence fills the car all the way home. After parking in the garage, the girls get out and go inside without waiting for me. I sit alone, my head resting against the steering wheel. I don’t know what to do. I feel like a lost bird swept up in a gust of wind, unsure of which direction to go.

When I finally go inside, the girls are nowhere in sight. I head to the kitchen to preheat the oven for pizza because I know they love it. It’s not easy knowing what to do. I’m fumbling my way through this parenting thing, hoping it gets easier with time. I never thought I’d carry this kind of responsibility. Parenting feels like constant worry. At least, it does for me. My sister was the best mom. I’ll do whatever it takes to fill those shoes.

The oven beeps, signaling it’s preheated. I wait before putting in the pizza. I rinse the green leaf lettuce, tear it apart, and drop it into a bowl. “Google, play Muddy Waters,” I tell my Hub. Smooth, somber tones fill the kitchen. I love the blues. My head sways to the beat as I divide the lettuce into three bowls. Surprisingly, the girls love salad. That’s a win in my book. I hated it as a kid, but Annie always made me eat mine. Over the years, with more toppings and veggies, I started to enjoy it. I wipe a tear from my cheek. What in the world? A quiet laugh slips out at the realization. I’ve definitely become more sentimental. It doesn’t take much for me to cry lately.

I move to the refrigerator to grab a cucumber for Maisie. I hate them, and so does Kara, but I can’t deprive that special girl even if the smell bothers me. I add the slices to her salad and slide the pizza into the oven. It’s eleven o’clock. I have no clue when the girls last ate or if they’re even hungry, but this is the only thing I know to do right now to bring us together.

I slice up a tomato for me and Kara. Honestly, she eats just like I do. She’d probably hate that I’ve noticed, so I keep that to myself. In these fragile times, I make sure they have what they like. I carry everything to the table for the salad—shredded cheese, a bag of toppings with pecans and dried cranberries, along with ranch and Thousand Island dressing.

When the pizza’s ready, I slice it and set it on the table before heading upstairs to get the girls. I knock on Kara’s door first. “Wash up and come down for lunch.” Maisie’s door is cracked. I knock, but she doesn’t answer. I ease it open. She’s sitting on the floor with her back against the bed. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Maisie shrugs without looking up. I move closer to sit beside her. She keeps her head down, picking at her fingers.

“I’ve got lunch ready.” I drape an arm over her small shoulders and lean into her, hoping to ease whatever hurt she’s carrying.

“What are we having?” she finally says.

“Cheese pizza and salad,” I say. “Will you come eat with me?” Maisie nods, a flicker of hope rises in my chest. I stand and take her hands, guiding her to her feet, then scoop her up in my arms and spin her in a few circles until she giggles. I laugh with her. “Are you dizzy?” She nods, that sweet smile lighting her face—so much like my sister’s. I turn and squat in front of her. “Jump on, munchkin.” Maisie wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I take off down the hall, giving her a piggyback ride.

At the bottom of the stairs, I notice Kara fixing her plate. I’m relieved not to have to fight that battle today. A small win here and there gives me hope that I’m doing something right.

I back up next to the bench at the table so Maisie can hop down. She settles on her knees to sit a little higher. I place a slice of pizza on a plate and set it in front of her, then pick up the salad bowl. “What else do you want on this, kiddo?”

“I can do it.” Maisie reaches for the bowl.

“Yes, ma’am.” I smile, handing it over. She begins adding toppings to her lettuce. I watch, feeling better than when I picked them up. Maisie’s always been an easygoing and happy kid. She’s more like Bill in that sense with a laid-back personality.

Kara sits at the end of the table, quietly eating her pizza. Surprisingly, she has a salad in front of her too. I fix my plate and join them.

“Could you please pass the ranch?” Kara asks.

I’m almost floored that she’s being polite to me. “Whoa.” I blink at her, smiling as I hand her the dressing, though something is most definitely off.

Kara takes the bottle and glances toward Maisie. I follow her eyes to see Maisie looking solemn again.

“Okay, girls.” I set my silverware down and lean back in my chair. “What happened at your Gigi’s?” I look from Maisie to Kara. Neither of them answers. My insides twist with apprehension. “Kara?” I try, hoping with her being older that she’ll explain. Instead, she pushes the lettuce around in her bowl, refusing to look at me. “Maisie?” I turn to her, hoping she’ll open up to me like she normally does. Maisie covers her eyes with her hands and starts crying. I move to her side, wrapping her in my arms. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Just tell me what happened so I can help.”

Maisie’s tears keep flowing, hurting me more than if it were my own pain. I look at Kara, silently pleading for answers. She drops her gaze to her plate.

“Okay.” I stand, frustration rising. “I’m calling Judy.”

“Wait!” Kara sighs. “Maisie, just tell her.”

I’m not sure what the hell is going on, but I’m seconds away from driving over to Judy’s, dragging her pampered ass outside, and making her explain why my already vulnerable nieces are on edge.

Maisie finally looks at me, tears streaming down her face and shattering my heart. “I wet the bed again.”

I look at Kara, my expression leaving no room for anything but the truth. “What did Judy do?”