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“And they sent you an invitation without any sort of phone call or conversation beforehand?” she demands, and I can hear the indignation in her tone on my behalf. My chest warms at it. Besides my brother, Grandma Alice was there for me throughout my entire pregnancy and looked after both Elaine and me until she moved to Florida. I wouldn’t have this apartment to live in—which I could never afford on my own—if it weren’t for her. She always talks about having more money than she needs, and so she never spares a thought about spending it on me and my daughter. “That is so horribly typical of them. I thought I raised Georgia better than this.”
Honestly, it’s kind of crazy how Grandma was a lot more open and welcoming about me having a kid at twenty-one, unmarried, than Mom was. I think after she married my dad, her mindset started melding in with his, and any sort of open-mindedness Grandma may have taught her just disappeared.
“Do you think I should go to the party?” I ask her as I absently stir the macaroni as it cooks. “Or should I just not even bother?”
Grandma sighs on the other end of the line. “You would be a bigger and better person than your parents if you attended,” she says almost reluctantly. “But I wouldn’t want you to go just to be subjected to their bullshit. I wouldn’t want sweet Elaine to be around that, either.”
I crack a smile at the curse she utters. She does it rarely but when she does, you know she means what she says. “Oh, I wouldn’t be taking Elaine if I went. No way,” I say, emphasizing my words with a shake of my head even if she can’t see me. Even if Elaine is only three, she notices things, is able to pick up on people and their moods, their energies. I don’t want her to be around any potential negativity, and that party would be a definite negative energy zone between me and my parents. “Do you think they only invited me to keep up appearances or something?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised, baby,” Grandma says, sounding both bothered by it and upset for me. “But just know, if you do decide to go, that you are a better person for it. If you want to have a conversation with them to maybe put all of this to rest, then I support you completely. But also keep in mind that if you go and decide that none of it is worth it, then that’s okay, too. You’re entitled to that.”
I crack a small, almost sad smile. “You don’t think I should give them a chance? Since they’re my parents and all?”
Grandma scoffs lightly. “They should be the ones making an effort, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong.Theyare the parents. They should be fighting tooth and nail to be a part of your and Elaine’s lives. If not, then it’s their loss.”
My smile widens slightly, feeling the tension from the moment I noticed the envelope disappear a little from my muscles. The macaroni looks about done, and I turn off the stove as I say, “Thanks, Grams. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime, baby,” she says gently.
When we hang up, I feel better than I did before. As I finish making the mac and cheese, I slowly come to the decision that I most likely will be attending my parents’ party. I mean, I’m not a hundred percent certain, and I still have time until the party to change my mind, but right now, after talking to Grandma Alice, I feel like I can do it. My parents can’t affect me if I don’t let them. I have spent years being ignored by them, and it hurt in the beginning like a pain I couldn’t handle—especially because it was during a vulnerable time in my life when a girl would need her parents the most.
But I very quickly realized that I could not depend on my mom and dad when I had a newborn baby depending on me. Even if I had hoped that, once I gave birth, my parents would come around because they certainly hadn’t during the length of my pregnancy. Except they didn’t after Elaine was born, and it was becoming completely clear that they were not supportive of my decision, and would rather I fend for myself. It was so Goddamn easy for them to drop me, just like that, as if I never mattered. As if I wasn’t their daughter. Unfortunately for them and lucky for me, I still had Grandma Alice and Cody. I didn’t need my parents.
I don’t need them now, either. But my morbid curiosity is pushing me to attend the party, to see how they would react to me actually showing up. What would they tell their friends? What have they already told their friends? I know other extended family will be in attendance, and I still have good relationships with them. They’ve all expressed their disbelief and disapproval of my parents’ actions. When most of your family shows up for your birthday celebrations and that of your daughter’s but your own parents aren’t there, you know damn well who is in the right and who is in the wrong.
All I am trying to do is build a good life for my daughter. With or without my parents.
* * *
I smooth my hands down the front of the sweater dress I’m wearing, blowing out a breath as I stare at myself in the mirror. It’s maroon colored and extremely soft, perfect for the weather even though I’m only going upstairs, but I already feel my skin burning up out of nerves. I remind myself, over and over again, that this is just a casual dinner that I’m having with Elaine, Caden, and his father. Friendly and casual, and nothing I should be damn near sweating about.
But then again, there has been a shift between Caden and me recently, and suddenly it feels as though I have no idea how to act around him. These last few days, since our conversation at his apartment, I have been keeping myself busy and distracted with work—both at school and at home with my art. I keep myself occupied so I don’t end up thinking about Caden and the fact that the dynamic between us has changed once more, going back to what it was when we first met. It still hasn’t wrapped around my head, I think, and I don’t even know how I will be feeling once it does.
“It’s going to be fine,” I mutter to myself, leaning closer to the mirror to touch up my lip gloss. I didn’t go overboard with my makeup, just enough to make myself look presentable, and once I deem myself ready, I walk out of my room with a small purse for my keys and phone and head out into the living room.
Elaine is all dressed up and ready to go, keeping herself entertained as she watches TV, and I grab the box of a small cake I picked up from the bakery on my way home. Just a little dessert for after dinner, since I didn’t want to go to Caden’s empty handed. It all feels so formal and strange, but I don’t dwell on it too much. I’ll give myself a headache if I do.
“Come on, baby. Let’s go. Turn the TV off,” I say to Elaine.
She nods and hops off the couch, turning the television off before she runs over to me, her sneaker clad feet clapping on the floor. Her blonde hair is tied back into a ponytail, blue eyes bright and excited once I told her we were going to Caden’s. The way her face lights up by just mentioning him makes my chest ache. She loves him, and I know the feeling is mutual on his end, too. Whatever happens with Caden and me, I don’t want her to lose him.
After locking up my apartment, Elaine and I head to the elevator, the bakery box in my hands as she reaches up on her tip toes to press the up button. The shirt I put her in is flowy, so she spins around where she stands, giggling as the bottom half of the shirt flutters like a dress, her hair whipping around with her. Kids are so easily entertained; I miss when life was that simple.
As the elevator moves up, I’m acutely aware of my heart thumping in my chest as I watch the numbers of the floors increase. I’mnervous, and it’s a particular kind of nervousness. Like I’m about to have dinner with a boyfriend’s family, which is a feeling I’ve experienced before from past boyfriends, but it’s wrong to feel that way right now, isn’t it? I’mnotabout to have dinner with a boyfriend and his dad; it’s just a casual dinner with Caden and his father, and I don’t need to be overthinking this.
I feel like things with Caden and I are both confusing and clear at the same time, which is a fucking weird and dizzying combination. We’re—apparently—no longer sleeping together, but it is obvious we both have feelings for one another since we each have said as much, but we’re still friends. And it shouldn’t be hard to be friends with him; I have been for a year. But now that I have accepted my feelings for him, and know how he feels for me as well. . . It’s like we are going to be walking a fine line that neither of us are really going to know how to.
When the elevator doors slide open on his floor, Elaine skips ahead, knowing where to go as I follow behind her. She’s already knocking on the door when I reach her, too short to reach the doorbell herself, so I let her have at it.It’s going to be fine, I tell myself as we wait for the door to open.
It does, moments later, and I tighten my grip on the box as Caden appears in view. He’s dressed casually in dark jeans and a dark red V-neck, and my heart stupidly skips a beat because the colors of our clothes are kind of matching. I see the way his gaze dips for a brief second at my sweater dress, the muscle in his jaw feathering, and I’m sure he is noting the same thing.
Caden’s gaze slowly lifts to lock with mine, and ignoring the quickening of my pulse, I put on a smile and greet, “Hey.”
It’s all I can think to say, his expression unreadable, and right when his lips part, Elaine chirps up, “Hi, Caden!”
He immediately looks down, and the smile that breaks across his face robs me of my breath, especially knowing it’s genuine and directed towards my daughter. “Hi, little lady.” When Elaine automatically puts her arms up, a sign that she wants to be picked up, Caden’s gaze flicks to me. Asking for permission—which he hasn’t had to do in a long time because he knows he is allowed to pick her up. Ignoring the twist in my stomach, I nod with a smile, and Caden scoops Elaine up in his arms.
I do my best not to ogle at the tattoos on his sinewed forearms. God, how many times have I traced the different designs with my fingers or my tongue? Too many to count.
