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I laugh and lean over to squeeze her perfectly manicured hand. “That’s the only thing I’ll miss. You and Kate with your constant man-drama. I’m going to have to take up watching soap operas just to get my fill.”
“I love you, Pres. Thank you for being my best friend. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you just around the corner.”
“Ditto.” I smile back. “Now stop moping, because you’re flying to visit me next weekend!”
“I’m excited! I’ve never been to L.A. and there’s so much I want to do.” She pulls out a piece of paper from her bag and places it in front of me. “So here is a list I made of things I want to do, time permitting.”
I hold my palm in front of her face. “Stop the presses. Vicky made a list?”
“Are you proud of me? Mama Presley taught me well.”
“So, you can teach an old dog new tricks?” I laugh.
We fall into a fit of laughter until the cute waiter returns with our lunch. Despite Vicky’s attempt to be organized, I’m not the least bit surprised when she follows the cute waiter back to the bar and asks him for his number.
***
I arrive back at the apartment and see that Liz hasn’t returned just yet. It is almost dark and I’m starting to worry about them. Not wanting to call Haden, I find Liz’s number in my cell and dial it immediately. It rings for a while before going to voicemail, only adding to my worry. I scroll through the contacts and land on Haden’s number. Just as I am about to hit the call button, a tap on the door startles me and I scramble to open it, glad to see Liz and Masen on the other side. I unbuckle Masen from his stroller and lift him into my arms. Bringing him up to my face, I smell his hair and my nerves are non-existent with my baby finally back in my arms.
“I’m sorry we’re late, sweetie. Haden just wanted some extra time with him.”
“He could have told me.”
“I know. He has a lot on his mind right now,” she defends him. “So listen, he asked me to give this to you.”
She hands me a piece of paper and I open it up to find a calendar for the next three months. My eyes divert to the boxes marked in red. In print it says “Eloise and Haden.”
“What’s this?” I ask, confused.
“Haden thought it was best to put together a schedule of when they could see Masen.”
“But . . . but . . . this is every other weekend . . . and it says New York?”
She puts the baby bag down and gracefully places her hand on mine. “Sweetie. It was bound to happen. If you’re moving to L.A. and Haden stays here, both of you will need to make an effort for Masen’s sake.”
“I can’t fly out to New York every other weekend!” I respond anxiously.
“Maybe Masen stays here for a week or Haden flies out. He didn’t get into the details with me.”
Masen be apart from me for a week?! Hell no! What the hell is running through his head? I’m angry, furious to be precise, and that whole thing about not letting my emotions get to me . . . well, fuck it! I tear the paper up in front of Liz, much to her shock.
“This is what I think of his stupid plan!”
Liz knows well enough to leave at this point. Kissing Masen for the last time, she waves goodbye, but not before telling me she’ll visit in a couple of weeks.
After my normal nightly routine, I put Masen to bed and head back to the living room to distract myself with mindless TV. It doesn’t work. I’ve channel-surfed for the past hour without settling on anything to watch. Kate arrives home and the second she does, I burst into tears. Not once does she tell me I’m wrong or making a mistake; she allows me to cry and let out my unresolved issues. Feeling bad that I soaked her shirt, I pull away, apologizing for being a wreck.
“You have every right to be. You love him and the Jerk’s marrying someone else. Plus, he puts together this stupid plan?”
“Why is he doing this? I don’t understand why he wants to take Masen away from me,” I sob.
“You need to talk to him, Presley. Clear the air and move on.”
“No. I don’t want to see him.” I stand up and head to the kitchen as Kate follows me. “He’s made his decision, Kate. He is marrying Eloise. He wants Eloise to be his wife. I’m taking Masen with me and moving to L.A. End of story.”
“If that’s what you want, Presley. Just remember that despite him marrying her, he is still Masen’s dad.”
Of course, I know that. Masen looks exactly like him, even at this age. Every time I look at him I’m reminded of that. How can I cope with a lifetime of staring at my child’s face and being reminded of the man who so carelessly broke me to pieces? I have no plan for how to avoid that. That’s what makes it all the more difficult. No matter what you do, there’s no plan for curing a broken heart.
