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Knox bounces off to the kitchen, and we’re left standing there in awkward silence.
“You are all she’s talked about today.” I am the first to break the silence.
J.R. nods. “I’m just going to take her to dinner—if that’s okay.”
“Whatever you need,” I say. “Thank you for making time for her.”
“What are you doing tonight?” he asks. I think I notice a look of concern for me in his eyes. There may even be guilt behind them, too.
I shrug. “Order a pizza. Watch a movie. I’ll be fine,” I assure him.
J.R. looks at me with a slight frown on his face, and I know that he definitely feels guilty for leaving me behind.
“I’m fine,” I say again. I’m not great at lying, though. He can see right through me, and he knows I’m not okay. There is a very large part of me that would love to join them on their night out.
Knox comes bouncing back to us. “I’m ready to go!” she says.
“I hope you’re hungry. Taking you to my favorite little pizza house here,” J.R says. “You like pizza?”
“I was raised on pizza,” Knox quips, and I stifle a laugh.
“Have fun,” I say, perhaps too brightly, and then I watch J.R. walk Knox to the car he rented for the evening. He opens the door for her and then helps her in. J.R. looks up at me briefly before he steps into the car and backs out of the driveway.
It’s quiet. Lonely. I find myself missing Knox, and she’s only been gone for an hour. Knox and I had moved into this apartment not long after she was born, and sometimes, I regret it. Sometimes, I miss Kelley. My pizza has been delivered, and I’m sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television, trying to find something worth watching.
I’m not hungry, and I can’t decide on a movie, so I turn on some music and run myself a hot bath instead.
I can’t stop thinking about Knox, and maybe I’m slightly worried about how their night out is going.
I send J.R. a text message:Everything okay?
J.R. texts back:Perfect.
I sigh. Of course, it is. My body slips into the hot water, and it feels like a paradise. I lay my head back against the tub, and I close my eyes. The music plays loudly in the background. It’s angry rock music. The kind that makes you want to head bang all of your frustrations out. It’s more soothing to me than spa music would be.
The hot water closes around my body and encases me like a dream. In my mind, I go back in time, replaying every moment I’ve ever had with J.R. Then, I think about Knox and the first time I held her in my arms. I remember looking into her blue eyes and knowing that I will never love another human being like I love her. I can’t even think about the fact that I had planned my entire pregnancy around placing her for adoption. I just think about the moment when she wrapped her tiny hand around my finger. That was the moment she owned me.
I’m sitting at my desk, trying to work on this end-of-the-world opinion piece. It’s a stupid topic, and I still kind of wish the world would end on December 21. My mind is not in it, though. I’ve got too much going on personally to write creatively.
Knox and J.R. are back sooner than I thought they’d be. Of course, it’s ten p.m., and Knox is a child. An adult is limited to the places they can take a child after nine. Especially in the South.
J.R. carries a sleeping Knox into the house. Her head is on his shoulder, mouth hanging open. I briefly wonder why she’s incapable of going anywhere in a car without falling asleep. He walks her into her room, lays her on the bed, and removes her shoes. Then, he pulls her covers over her, and we walk quietly back into the hallway, closing the door behind us.
“Have fun?” I ask as we walk back to the front door together.
“I think so. Dinner and a round of miniature golf,” he says proudly. “I let her win.”
I smile. “I’m sure she had fun. She has a mean putt.”
J.R. looks at me. He smirks a little. He wants to say something, but I can tell he’s hesitant to do so.
“Thank you,” I tell him, “for stepping up to the plate without thinking twice about it. I know it’s not easy to have all of this suddenly dumped on you.”
“Rachel, I would have been here all along if I had known.”
“I know, J.R. I know.” I look up at him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want her because of what I did.”
“That’s ridiculous, Rachel,” he says sharply. “This is our life. Our family. And you just took control of the whole thing.”
