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“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 apart from me for a week?
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 television. 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 a 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’s 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’s 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.
Twenty-Seven
Saying goodbye isn’t too hard because the girls will visit soon.
It’s the taxi ride to the airport that kills me.
The radio is set on some ‘80s love song marathon. It’s easy to say I can just ignore it, but when Barry Manilow is belting out a tune, you better believe your heart aches along with him. When I was growing up, these songs were so corny, yet Mom and Dad would put them on and stare lovingly into each other’s eyes while singing out of key.
That’s love. Married for almost forty years, and even with all their quirks, that love’s never faded. Mom once told me she loved Dad more now than the day she married him. Forty fricken years, I still don’t know how that is even possible.
Stuck in the usual traffic jam to the airport, the driver turns up the radio when Chicago’s “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” comes on. Blinking my eyes to stop the tears, I force myself to think about my mascara and how I don’t want panda eyes at the airport. But I’m not that strong.
The taxi driver asks me if everything is okay, and I make up some lie about being homesick. Don’t need to get into the whole the-man-I-love-got-married-today-and-I’m-a-pathetic-single-mom-running-away-from-all-my-problems story.
Song after song plays, and the more they sing about love, the more my mind wanders to today.
Haden and Eloise are officially husband and wife right now.
The vows to love each other for all eternity have been said and done. The shiny bands are sitting on their fingers, and right about now, they’re having their first dance as a married couple to some sappy song that probably played only moments ago in my cab.
I have shed so many tears over him. I’ve spent countless nights waking up in a cold sweat. If I’m ever to move on with my life, I need to grab that glue and start mending my heart. He may have torn it apart, but I’ll be damned if I’m the one suffering this lonely life all because of him. He can go ahead and be married, have a dozen babies for all I care. We both stood at that fork in the road, and he went the opposite way.
Fate—you’ve laid out all the cards, and I’ll take mine so you can leave me the fuck alone.
When street signs indicate the airport is only a couple of minutes away, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. The driver pulls alongside the curb and hops out of the cab, opening the door for me. With Masen in his carrier, an attendant pushes a trolley my way, escorting me to the check-in desk with my suitcases.
