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Brianna holds my hand all the way to the airport. She doesn't say anything but she's smart. She knows something is going on. I'm distracting her with promises of fishing with Grandpa and shopping with Grandma, but kids are intuitive. They know more than they let on. I always knew more than I ever let on. I knew, but things were muddled and murky. There was so much I didn't understand.
My birth mom tried hiding all the abuse from me when I was young. But I still knew. I knew she went to bed every night trying to hide her tears and the relentless sobs. Then, when she died, I knew Mom and Dad (my adoptive parents) were hiding the truth from me. We have a complicated past. One connected by chance and circumstance. I have the best parents in the world but they wouldn't be my parents if Mom's (my adoptive one) dad hadn't gotten in that car drunk and hit my birth mom, killing her on impact.
See? I told you it's complicated. But we'll come back to that later.
The point is that I know Brianna is smart and she sees and hears far more than she lets on. I hope I'm doing the right thing. The right thing for her, and the right thing for me.
Most of all, I hope it's right for Steve. I hope he gets his life back on track. I hope he finds something to do with his days other than game and drink.
"We're here!" Brianna shouts as we pull up to the airport.
As quickly as I can, I unload our things and hurry inside. I'm afraid if I slow down, I might run back to Steve. Back to the life that's made both of us miserable. But it's comfortable. It's familiar. What I'm about to do is neither of those things. What I'm about to do is uproot my entire life and start over. I'm doing it for Brianna, though. So she can have the life she deserves. Living paycheck to paycheck, while I'm too exhausted to be a good mom, isn't the life I want for her. I want her around family. I want her to see me happy. I want us to be happy. I don't want to struggle anymore. I want...I want...I want to be a better version of myself. For my daughter.
"Mama," Brianna squeezes my hand. "How many times have I been on an airplane before?"
I smile down at her. "This is your seventh airplane ride."
"I've been on an airplane that many times already?" Her little mouth drops open in surprise.
We come to a stop in the long check-in line and crouch in front of my daughter. She has my green eyes and blond hair, but she has Steve's smile. "You're already a traveling pro."
"I am," she grins.
"Once we check-in, we'll grab a little stuffed animal at the gift shop, OK?"
Brianna nods as her eyebrows knit together. "Is Daddy going to get better?"
I try not to lie to her unless it's absolutely necessary. I always try to tell her the truth, even if I'm not sure she can understand it. "I hope Daddy will."
"Me, too," she reaches for my hand.
The moment her little fingers tangle with mine, I realize it's us against the world. Like it always has been.
Chapter 2
There's a crowd of Thompsons standing by baggage claim, and that's when it hits me. My marriage is over. I'm starting over.
I've failed.
Mom's arms find me as I ugly cry in the middle of the Denver Airport. In true Thompson fashion, bodies move closer and we group hug while Brianna squeezes my hand tight.
"You're home," Mom says gently. "You're finally home."
I pull away from her and use my free hand to wipe the tears from my eyes. Dad picks up Brianna, and she lets my fingers go. He kisses the side of her face and I remember all the times he used to scoop me up in his arms after I'd fallen down.
"Come here, Cupcake," he ushers to me with Brianna in one arm.
I sniffle and lay my head on his strong shoulder. The shoulders that carried me through the darkest times of my life.
Dad and I haven't always gotten along. He didn't like it when I got my first tattoo. He also didn't like that I fell in love with the wrong person before I met Steve. There's been a lot of fights, and even though Dad and I have had our differences, he's always there for me. No matter how many times we argue, he's still there.
Sometimes, I think we're more alike than we are different. And that's why we butt heads.
"It's my turn!" I hear Ava, my older sister, impatiently interrupt. She elbows her way through my aunt, uncle, cousins, niece, and nephew. "I haven't seen my sister inmonths."
It's been a year, but we video chat every day. Sometimes, I used to forget we were so far away from each other. It always felt like she was right there with me.
Ava hooks her arms around my neck, and her auburn hair smells like roses. I've kept the tears at bay for the past few minutes, but the dam breaks again as I hug her tighter and an ugly sob leaves my throat.
