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Adeline doesn’t say anything else for a few minutes. I know she’s readying herself to talk about Mom and Ian’s wedding.
“So,” Adeline says in a casual voice, but there’s a tiny vein throbbing on her forehead. “Have you heard from Mom?”
“Yes, she called me a little earlier.”
“You know about the wedding then,” she says. “Can you believe she had the audacity to ask me to be her maid of honor?”
“I wish you’d said yes.” She makes as if to talk, but I silence her with a raised hand. “Let me finish.”
She closes her eyes and then opens them again. She’s probably fighting to contain her anger.
“When she told me, the first thought that came to my mind was to tell her that they hadn’t dated for a full year. Then I realized that she wasn’t asking me for permission. She was informing me, and she wanted me to be happy for her.”
Adeline’s features tighten. I force myself to plow on.
“We all deserve to be happy. Who are we to judge who our mother chooses to be happy with? It’s her life, Adeline. I have mine, and so do you. We’re adults who get to make our own choices. She’s made hers. Let’s be happy for her.”
“What if he breaks her heart?” she says.
“Then we’ll be there for her and help her pick up the pieces. We’re family and that’s what family does.”
She glances down at a sleeping Taylor. “When did your mother get so wise?”
I let out a discreet sigh of relief.
“You think I should be Mom’s maid of honor?” she asks lifting her gaze to me.
“You’ll make a beautiful maid of honor.”
“Okay. I will.”
Chapter 39
Thomas
I’ve been shipping Cora’s things to her apartment as per her instructions. Today is the last day that she and Taylor will be in my house, and panic is spreading in my chest.
Everything in me is screaming that I should ask her to stay, but then what? I can’t promise marriage, and I know at this point, Cora wants nothing less. I admit that I’m a coward. Therapy is definitely helping, but the thought of signing on that dotted line committing myself to one person scares the fuck out of me.
I grab the last bag from our room and carry it downstairs, where Cora is waiting while breastfeeding Taylor.
“Looks like this is the last of it,” I tell her.
She looks at me dully, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to go down on my knees and beg her to stay. “Okay, I’ll just finish up here, and we’ll be on our way.”
I carry the bag to her car. Cora and I agreed that we’ll use her car for the last trip, and then I can grab an Uber back to my place. When I return to the house, Cora is standing, and I go to her and take Taylor. Her dark eyes are trained on me. Guilt floods me as I imagine what might be going through her baby mind. Why are you letting us go, Daddy?
What am doing? Panic wells up my throat. I swallow and push it back down. It’s better this way. I’m not cut out for marriage or long-term relationships. I can’t stop thinking of the number of things that could go wrong.
I know that commitment is a leap of faith. I made that leap once and look where it got me. I lost my wife emotionally, even before I lost her physically. I can’t do that shit again.
With co-parenting, Cora and I will both know our goal, which will be to raise Taylor to be a happy little girl. There will be no emotions and feelings between us to distract us. Feeling stronger, I carry Taylor to the car and gently lower her to her car seat. I enter the passenger side as Cora gets into the driver’s side.
The drive to her place is quiet. Misery fills the air. I tell myself that it’s natural to feel as we are feeling. After all, we’ve been living together for months. It’s like having a roommate you get along with brilliantly, and then they have to move out. You’ll naturally feel like crap that day and for days to follow. Then you’ll get used to living alone again.
“Welcome home, sweetheart,” Cora tells Taylor when we get to her apartment block.
She carries Taylor in while I grab the bag and a few other items from the car. We go up the elevator, silence wrapping around us like a cloak.
“Here we are,” Cora says as she unlocks the front door.
The apartment got a thorough clean-up the day before, and it’s sparkling clean.
“She’s asleep,” Cora says. “I’ll take her to her crib.”
I wait for her in the living room, and when she comes back, we sit in the living room facing each other like strangers. I feel a need to say something.
