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Syl looked fearless and committed to her promise, but she really didn’t know what Mother was capable of. Still, Syl laughed in the face of such a threat.
“I fucking dare her to hurt me again.”
“Syl, you can’t just—”
“One other thing.” She smiled. “I dumped John.”
I could only smile back at her. So she wanted to be more like me, too.
•••
I WATCHED SYLleave, on her mission, still flummoxed by her revelation and worried sick for her future. She didn’t know Mother like I did, but if she continued down such a vengeful path, she certainly would. Syl would need me, no matter what she said about being the big sister. She wouldn’t be able to take care of Mother alone. We would need to do it together.
We would need to be a team.
•••
COLLIN AND Ibegan opening presents together. It was easy to get caught up in the excitement of becoming parents. It had been so abstract until that moment. Little miniature clothes and onesies and shoes, all sorts of blankets and cloths and towels and diapers in the faintest shades of yellow, green, pink and blue, bottles and pacifiers and sippy cups, soft and cuddly stuffed creatures, seemingly the entire animal kingdom represented. The baby wasn’t even here yet and they were so loved. I had felt removed from my body for so long and I don’t know what came over me, but I became just the slightest bit excited for the baby, regardless of my cellulite production being in maximum overdrive.
Calliope was in charge of gift time against her will and looked relieved that we were coming upon the last one. Petite and pristinely wrapped, the final offering was placed in my hands. Wrapped in silver with a little pink bow. It was small and thin. I opened the card first. Glitter. Pink. Little woodland creatures parading about.
The interior was unsigned, bearing only a small note in perfect penmanship:
For your own bunny.
I knew she’d show up that day. She always did. She always would. Until the end. A sharp pain flashed across my chest. Fleeting, but forceful. I let it be. Let it pass. A moment of pain. A lifetime really. My physical body had always felt that specific hurt from her so much harder, that Mother wound, that push and pull of my heart, that pernicious interpretation she had of love, but now my mind could overcome it with enough focus, with enough will, with enough strength.
I had it all.
So I proceeded to open Mother’s gift.
Ah, yes.
Ofcourse.
