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Deb shrugs like the pain of that infidelity doesn’t bother her anymore. “Yes, well, I found out about it and we went through the divorce and it’s over now. He’s paying for it with the house and the car and alimony. He only gets the kids twice a month.”
“He’ll probably botch that too. I can’t believe a man who started out as such a great dad with Madison could just completely lose interest in his kids.”
“I guess for most people, monogamy and marriage, kids, all of it, is too much. We might not want it to be that way. We might not be able to admit the truth of it, but I think that two people who can grow together and make things work in the long run now is the rarest thing of all. It’s like a unicorn- a good, lasting marriage. I’m not saying I’m perfect either.”
“Yeah, but you also didn’t go out and get a mistress. Or a mister.”
“No.” Deb reaches out and pulls out a gold dress, similar to what I wore for the family meeting a few days ago. “I most definitely didn’t do that. It’s hard, when you have kids, to make sure that you’re not the bad guy too. You can’t tell them the truth about their dad, at least not something like that. When they’re older, they might understand. I just hope he doesn’t toodle off completely and leave them. You’re right. He was such a good father at first and now he hardly takes an interest.”
“Bloody bastard,” Donna hisses. “Ooooh! How about this one?” She produces a bold pink dress that is shimmery and flowy, and well, pink.
Deb gasps. “It’s perfect! I’ll need to try it on, but I’ll take it!” She rushes around, putting the other dresses back.
The dress ends up fitting like it was made for Deb, and she and Donna both leave happy, off to celebrate the good things that I hope are coming Deb’s way now. Long after they leave, their words stick with me, filling up the store like the cloying smoke of burned toast. Ever burned toast so bad that you just can’t get the smoke out? Let me tell you. It’s a thing. Toasters can be very, very dangerous appliances.
I’m the only one in the store for a few hours yet, and since business is pretty slow this morning, it unfortunately gives me too much time to think.
Rationally, I know that Deb’s experience isn’t everyone’s experience, but irrationally- and maybe it’s the hormones starting to surge through me, combined with all my past experiences- I’m freaking out more than a little. Again. And maybe that’s a warning sign that I shouldn’t ignore.
You know that old saying about something being too good to be true? Of course you do. Everyone does. Well, there’s also a saying about how that saying is generally true.
Does Daniel seem too good to be true? Haven’t I been thinking about how he seems so perfect? How he’s too perfectly nice? Steadfast? Trustworthy? How he didn’t bail? How he said all the things I needed to hear, offered me perfect reassurances, was so nice when he met my family, even my brothers and cousins? I was just thinking that he felt right in ways that I couldn’t explain. I was blaming that on the curse, in a good way, thinking that some inexplicable force had brought us together and things just clicked. I was thinking that it didn’t always have to be so monumentally difficult. That sometimes things do work. I was getting excited, reclaiming my lost faith, but what if I’m doing exactly what Deb did and rushing in too fast?
What if I’m getting lost in the- uh- pleasure of the moment and making the classic mistake of taking that for something else? I did, despite my reservations, my vow to take a break from men, and all my past hurts, want to be with someone. Am I just subbing in the first person who came along and was nice to me, thinking that has real meaning that isn’t there? Are things just going to turn into a disaster because I think I’m starting to get to know Daniel, but really I don’t know him at all, and even if I did, he could just wind up changing? I could change too. We’re in this situation together. The whole unplanned pregnancy. I know he’s going to have to be in my life in some capacity, always, and I really hope he’s in his son’s or daughter’s life, supporting them like a father should, but am I wrecking our chances of being good parents by getting involved with him, like I was scared of before? That things will go to poo with us and then it will go to poo with our baby as a result? I don’t want my child to have a poop relationship with their dad. I want them to have a dad. Unlike me. Because yeah, it hurts getting left, no matter what age you are.
