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“Mom, can I go shoot hoops now?” A much more pleasant Luna asks me after she’s hoovered down her French toast and cereal. We had already seen that a small basketball court was just below the expansive deck we’re dining on, so I allowed her to bring her ball down with us. Next to it is also a nice set of tennis courts and a narrow dock that leads out into the water that shimmers in the morning sun, with various rowboats and sailboats docked and bobbing nearby. It all makes for a beautiful morning, making me wish we could stay longer.
“Yes, but only on the basketball court. Don’t go anywhere else, you hear me?”
“Got it,” she answers before gleefully grabbing up her basketball and turning towards the steps that lead down to the court.
Once I hear the sound of her ball bouncing against the asphalt and the swish of the net, my mother turns to me. Here we go.
“I’m only in town a couple more days honey, and I wanna know what’s going on with you. Fill me in,” she lets out a happy sigh with her hands in her lap. She says this like she just wants to catch up in general, but I know where it’s going; she wants to know if I’ve met anybody. I play the game anyway.
“Not much has changed, Mom. I’m still loving work at the salon, the hours are perfect, I love what I’m doing, Luna is kicking butt in school and at art. She got a special medal at the end of her last basketball season, and Melanie is giving her swim lessons when she and Matt get back from their honeymoon. Let’s see, did I miss anything?” I scrunch my eyebrows and bite the corner of my lip, playing dumb for her benefit.
“You know damn well what you’re missing, my girl,” she deadpans across the table at me from behind her huge sunglasses, nodding her head for emphasis.
See?
I let out an aggravated, gagging sigh in the back of my throat before indulging her.
“I date, Mom. Sometimes…” I slide my sunglasses on and start inspecting my manicure.
“Sometimes,” she parrots, and I can see her eyebrows go up as she drops her head back momentarily.
“Ugghh. Mom, why is it so important to you I have a love life? Man does not necessarily equal happiness, you know.”
I’m actually not sure she does, and to be honest, I’m not fully convinced myself.
“I know that’s true for some, but you have always wanted to fall in love.”
“Well, I did.”And we both know how that worked out.
“I mean forlife. Don’t forget, I fell in love too and was heartbroken, but I didn’t give up.”
No, she sure didn’t.
Growing up, our mom went on her share of dates and went through a few boyfriends before meeting Rick, our stepdad. Don’t get me wrong, she meant well and I wanted her to be happy, but it was really confusing having these different men breezing in and out of our lives as we were growing up.
As for me, I’m not opposed to finding someone to spend the rest of my life with and who would be there for Luna, but I make it a point not to do the same to her. It’s not just about me after all. I go on dates, but no one meets my daughter until we’ve been together for a good six months. I figure that’s how I know that he is solid and genuine enough to be part of my daughter’s life. Extreme? Some might think so, but the very fact that none have made it to that point only reassures me that it’s a good decision. The fact that they don’t want to put in the time and effort says it all as far as I’m concerned. I’ve said ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ to a few guys over the years, but Luna has remained unaffected by it and I feel good about that.
On the flip side however, it makes the odds of me finding a man to depend on pretty damn bleak, and each passing day I seem to give way to the idea that it’s meant to be just me and my girl from here out, which is fine by me. I just wonder and hope that it is enough for her.
“I know your childhood is what keeps you from letting any guys in, and that’s my fault,” my mother admits, leaning forward. “I completely understand the standards you have in place, but I just want to be sure that it’s not just about protecting Luna.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, straightening my shoulders defensively. I hear the rattle of the hoop below again as Luna sinks another shot.
“I mean, are you setting the bar that high to give yourself an out before you get too attached and get your heart broken again?” She lets out a breath and lowers her head. “I’d understand if you did. Evan let you down in the worst way possible.”
“There is one exception,” I lift my head slightly and raise an eyebrow.
“Yes,” she regretfully nods. “And I was lucky to meet your stepfather in the end, and I want the same for you. You deserve a great love, a great romance.”
“I know, Mom,” I sit up; ready to turn this conversation down a brighter road. “And I want to fall in love again. Finding someone up to the challenge will just make it all the more incredible.”
“Well,” my mother lets out a resigned sigh as she picks up her orange juice, “I guess I can’t argue with that.” She gives me a pointed but understanding smile before taking a sip.
I let out a sigh of a relief and reach for my coffee, happy to be done with the heavy part of our visit, only to have my heart jump up into my throat at the most sickening sound I will ever hear in my life.
It’s the sound of my daughter’s basketball bouncing erratically against wooden planks, followed by a yelp, a thud, and a splash, all in quick succession. I automatically jump to my feet and lean over the rail to see a ripple in the water next to the dock, the top of Luna’s ponytail with the purple bow I put in it this morning at its center, while her basketball bobs nearby, almost like it’s mocking me.
A scream rips from my lungs, but I can’t hear it as I push off the railing and turn to run towards the stairs that lead down to the dock. I couldn’t tell you if it was Luna’s name, God’s, a curse, I have no idea. I hear nothing as I frantically trot down the stairs. Once I reach the grass at the bottom, I use the side banister as leverage to swing myself in the direction of the dock and take off at top speed. I stumble in the cute white eyelet wedges I found on E-Bay and roll my ankle. I barely register the sharp pain as I stumble to the ground and catch myself with my hands. Damp, dewy blades of grass stick to my palms as I frantically grapple with my shoes, trying to desperately yank them off.
