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But that part of me turned out to be small. The more I thought about the idea, the more confident I felt—the more I genuinely wanted to do it.
Liv gave me plenty of space to say no. She was embarrassed to bring it up to me in the first place; she was under no illusions about the gravity of her request. Her insistence that she’d understand if I declined was so sincere that I felt like I could see her through the phone, looking at me with blue eyes promising no resentment.
I remember her saying, “I’m just asking because you’re great with her.”
I remember because her next words audibly came straight from her heart. They were softer than the other words, almost frail….
It was something I just knew she had never said to anyone else: “We trust you.”
It was one of the best things I’ve ever been told in my life.
And it strengthened my confidence, made me want to do the thing even more. So I said yes, and then I went a step further and said they could count on me even for personal emergencies, not just for ones that Rae’s school or whoever might call me for. Even now, days later, I don’t wish I hadn’t offered that, because Liv isn’t the type to take advantage of people—I trust her, too.
Her, “Thank you so much,” was so quiet that I wondered if she was getting emotional on her end of the line.
Tugged at my heartstrings all over again.
She’s been doing that a lot, really. I guess she always has in one way or another, starting with telling me about raising Rae, then showing compassion for my struggle with Lolly. Now she’s been talking about her childhood, and that stuff is getting pretty difficult to listen to. I can’t believe anyone would treat children that way—even though I’ve heard lots of stories by now, each new one shocks me, makes me sad, pisses me off.
It’s also weird, because for as shocked and sad and angry as I get, there’s nothing I can do about it, and Ireallywish that weren’t so.
She doesn’t have anything to do with her mom anymore, so there’s no reason I’d have to encounter her, but I sometimes find myself pondering what I’d say to her if I had the chance. Pondering how I would defend Liv if her mom said something cruel to her in front of me. And I still don’t know what the mom’s boyfriends did, but my imagination gets the best of me at times, and I grow furious over the idea of them hurting Liv in those ways. Even if my horrible imaginings are off-base,somethingbad had to have happened to her, considering how guarded she is now. I know she was at least physically abused, because—among other things—she has mentioned a scar on her back from when a man named Louis shoved her so hard into the coffee table that it broke and cut her.
Yeah, it sucks to get so upset about these things, because there’s no one for me to tell off, no one for me to punch. Not that I think I’d actually punch her mom, but still. I’m always left with the acidic knowledge of what Liv grew up with and itsucks.
But I can tell that talking to me is helping her.
She gets the darkest looks on her face sometimes, the most troubled looks in her eyes, but after she describes the memories to me, I can see she’s lightened up.
So it’s worth it—the way I feel about it all is worth it because it helps her to have me listen.
In my car on Thursday evening, I pull out my phone to call her before I leave work. Like I have the past few days, I’m going to ask if she needs me to bring anything to her on my way home.
But before I can find her number, I get an incoming call from her.
“Hey!” I say when I accept it.
“Hey,” she laughs back. Then in a muffled way, like she’s put her hand over the phone, “Yes, I’m going to ask! Give me a second!” She chuckles as she speaks to me again. “Okay, well, I have my own stuff to ask you about, but Rae is going to die of impatience if I don’t ask her question first.”
I laugh, too. “All right. Hit me with it.”
“She has a party at school the Friday before Halloween, and she wants to know if you’ll go costume shopping with us this weekend. She’s been getting on her feet today, so she thinks she’ll be ready to leave the house soon.”
“Ooh. I’m glad she’s feeling a little better. What does she want to dress up as?”
“Hasn’t decided yet. She wants our help picking something.” I can hear the smile in her voice, but I can also hear a bit of shyness. “I was thinking we could celebrate your promotion after we go shopping. If you’re still accepting it. And if you’re even interested.”
IfI’m interested? I’m absolutely interested in celebrating with them. Even costume hunting doesn’t sound too bad, despite that I am a typical male when it comes to shopping and don’t much care for it.
Let’s be honest: I never imagined I’d enjoy spending so much time around a second-grader, but I do. Rae is a great kid.
And Liv…
…is starting to babble about how I don’t have to hang with them this weekend if I don’t feel like it.
“Hey, no,” I interrupt quickly, “it sounds kick-ass, Liv. Of course I want to see you guys.”
“Yeah?” she asks hesitantly. “I don’t want you to feel forced into it.” She clears her throat. “You’ve done plenty for us already. I don’t want you to think you have to spend your free time…you know….”
