by Vi Keeland
***
“MOMMY SAID YOU LIKED BANANAS in your pancakes.” Chloe and I were sitting at the dining room table finishing our breakfast and strawberry milk. Genevieve had gone upstairs to get dressed for work.
“I do. And chocolate chips, too. My grandmother used to make banana chocolate chip pancakes for me all the time when I was your age.” I leaned to my daughter and whispered, “You want to know a secret?”
She nodded her head fast.
“Sometimes she still makes them for me. And they’re even better than your mom’s.”
Chloe belly laughed. The sound was the best medicine in the world for me; nothing could stop my face from smiling when I heard that. I’d kept away from my daughter to protect her from what I was feeling, worried my sour mood was contagious. Yet the reality was, it was the other way around—it was Chloe’s naturally happy-go-lucky disposition that was contagious. This little precious girl had lost a man she loved as her father only months ago, and yet here she was smiling. If she could do it, I could, too. My daughter was inspiring.
I reached over and cupped her cheeks. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”
“You didn’t come see me for a few days.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was caught up in something. But that won’t happen again.”
“Can we go see your grandmother one day for breakfast?”
Not only was she inspiring, but she was also full of good ideas. “She’d love that. I’ve told her all about you, and she can’t wait to meet you.”
“Can Soraya come, too?”
My chest tightened at even the mention of her name. I could still actually visualize the four of us together. Myself and the three most important women in my life. My daughter, Meme, and the woman I loved. It was raw to speak of, but I wouldn’t lie to my daughter. “I’m sorry, Chloe. She won’t be able to come with us. But maybe you and I could go together this weekend?”
Genevieve picked that moment to walk back into the dining room.
“Are you mad at Soraya?” My eyes caught briefly with Genevieve before I answered my daughter.
“Sometimes things don’t work out between adults and they stop seeing each other.”
“Why didn’t things work out with you and Soraya? I liked her.”
I took a deep breath. “I liked her, too.” Glancing at my watch, I changed the subject. “You’re going to be late if we don’t get you going. I thought I would drop you at school today, if that’s alright with you?”
Chloe ran to get her things while Genevieve and I cleared the last of the dishes from the dining room table. “Will you join us for dinner, tonight? I’m making another one of your favorites, chicken parmigiana.”
I had assumed Genevieve was going to attempt to discuss what she’d just overheard about me and Soraya. I was relieved when she seemed to move on. Maybe Genevieve and I could do this co-parenting thing better than I anticipated. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
***
GENEVIEVE WAS ALL DRESSED UP when I arrived, wearing a very form fitting blue dress that showed off her figure. She was always a beautiful woman, but motherhood seemed to have added a little to her curves making her more voluptuous. I handed her a bottle of her favorite merlot I’d picked up on my way over. She’d been feeding me meals for the last few weeks; it was the least I could do not to show up empty-handed. “Are you going out tonight?”
“No. I wasn’t planning on it. Why do you ask?”
“You look…nice.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I need to stir the pasta. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and open the wine for us?”
Genevieve pulled two crystal glasses from the cabinet, and I uncorked the bottle as she went to work at the stove.
“Is Chloe upstairs?”
“She’s actually not home yet. Her best friend, Emily, invited her over for a play date. Emily’s mom called a little while ago to ask if she could stay for dinner. I hope you don’t mind. Lately, I’ve just had a difficult time saying no to anything she asks. After Liam moved out last year, she was really stuck to my side. Then, after he passed, she didn’t want to play with any of her friends. I found it encouraging that she wanted to have dinner with Emily, so I told her she could stay. I’m sure she’ll be back by the time we’re done.”
I hated the thought of Chloe not wanting to play with her friends. When my own mother was sick, I had gone through a similar withdrawal. Looking back, I realized I was afraid to leave her. If I went somewhere, something might change or happen. Genevieve made sound choices for Chloe. “You’re good at being a mother.”
She was surprised at my compliment. “Thank you, Graham. That means a lot to me coming from you.”
Over dinner, we talked mostly about work. I’d forgotten how easy it was to speak to her. It had been years since we had any real conversation. After we finished our meal, I poured us both a second glass of wine.
“This is nice,” Genevieve said.
I nodded.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
“Will it stop you if I say no?”
She smiled. “Probably not.”
“What happened between you and Soraya?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I understand.”
There were so many unanswered questions in my head. Maybe it was finally time to get some answers. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
Her eyebrows jumped. “Anything.”
“You sure about that?”
“Let me get us something stronger than wine first.” I finished my second glass of wine while Genevieve disappeared to the kitchen. She came back with two glasses of cognac. “Why don’t we go sit in the living room?”
Genevieve slipped off her high heels, then joined me on the couch. We were both quiet, sipping our drinks for a while. I stared at the floor when I finally spoke, “What made you turn to Liam?” It was a question I’d spent the better part of a year wondering about. The recent occurrences had obviously brought it to the forefront of my thoughts once again.
She blew out an audible breath. “I asked myself that same question a million times. The answer isn’t so simple. I was selfish. I liked the attention that Liam gave me. You were so busy and wrapped up in growing your business that I think I felt a little neglected. That’s not to say it’s your fault. Because it’s not. I just wanted to be the center of your world—the reason that you liked getting out of bed each morning. Don’t get me wrong, we were compatible on so many levels. We had our work, and the sex was nothing short of spectacular ever. But I just never felt like I was the love of your life. Liam made me feel that way. The problem was, after we broke up and I was with Liam, I realized he wasn’t the reason I got out of bed each morning. You were.”
I glanced up at Genevieve for the first time. Four years ago I could never have understood what she was talking about. I had thought she was the love of my life. Until I met Soraya. I had to force myself to get out of bed these last few days since she wasn’t in my life anymore.
I nodded. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
I gulped back the remnants of my glass and stood. “I think I need another one. Would you like a refill?”
“No, thank you.”
The next tall glass of alcohol left me feeling even more relaxed. Genevieve and I moved our conversation to lighter topics, and I settled into the couch comfortably waiting for my daughter.
“Graham?” Her tone had changed, and she hesitated until I was looking her in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve said it before, but I want you to know that I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I hate that I hurt you, and I wish I could do it all over again and take back all of my selfish decisions.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ve matured since then. Having a child taught me a lot about myself. I don’t need to be the center of anyone’s universe anymo
re, because she’s mine.”
“I can see that.”
It wasn’t until I stood to go to the bathroom an hour later that all of the alcohol really hit me. I’d had a drink in my office before I left, two glasses of wine over dinner, and it had to be four cognacs. Drunk was never a sensation I enjoyed. The feeling of not being in a clear state of mind was normally something that I despised. But tonight, it felt good. My shoulders were relaxed, and the anger that I’d been carrying around seemed to have lightened a bit as well.
After I relieved myself, I went in search of another refill for my perpetually empty glass and then stumbled my way back to the living room. Genevieve wasn’t there, and it was quiet. I sucked down half my glass and shut my eyes, leaning my head back against the couch. I must have fallen asleep for a few minutes before Genevieve’s voice woke me up.
“Chloe just called while I was upstairs getting changed and asked if she could sleep at Emily’s. She was so excited. I just couldn’t say no. I’m sorry. I hope you’re not upset with me for not asking you first.”
“As long as she’s happy, I’m happy. It’s late. I should get going anyway.” I stood from the couch and wobbled a bit.
“Why don’t I make you some coffee first. Then you can call your driver or a cab, rather than take the train.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” The couch was so comfy, I plopped myself right back down on it and closed my eyes. That was the last thing I remembered doing until Genevieve’s voice woke me hours later in the middle of the night.
“Graham?”
“Hmm…”
“You fell asleep.”
“Shit.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Sorry. I’ll get going.”
I was covered with a blanket, and the room was dark, but the hall light illuminated the room enough to see Genevieve in front of me. She was wearing a long silk robe that was tied at the waist.
“I’d much rather you stay. But…” She untied her robe and let it fall open. Hesitantly, her hands reached up, and she slipped the silky material from her shoulders. The robe puddled at her feet as she stood before me, fully naked. “I woke you hoping you’d come upstairs to bed instead of staying on the couch.”
CHAPTER 30
SORAYA
A BAD DREAM HAD CAUSED me to wake up in a sweat. While I couldn’t remember it clearly, it involved Graham and Genevieve naked. It was so upsetting that I couldn’t fall back asleep.
The occasional car passing by provided small glimpses of light as I sat in my dark bedroom with that same dreadful feeling of doubt that had kept me up almost every night since the fiasco with Graham and Marco.
Did I do the right thing?
What if he didn’t end up with Genevieve?
What if it was all for nothing?
Those kinds of thoughts would race through my mind. I also constantly wondered where he was and what he was doing, namely if he was doing her. He’d walked away from me so hurt; it wouldn’t have surprised me one bit if Genevieve took full advantage of the situation the second she found out.
His lasts words continued to haunt me.
“Look at me.”
My chest felt constricted. I was either the most selfless woman on Earth or the stupidest. Regardless, the pain of losing Graham was simply not subsiding. I doubted that I would ever stop longing for him, but would it get even a little easier? So far, the passage of time hadn’t helped.
Whether he was drowning his sorrows in someone else or not, I knew that Graham was out there somewhere devastated. He’d really loved me. Somehow, I was sure he still did, even if he was disappointed in me. Love built to last simply doesn’t unravel that fast. I truly felt that ours would have stood the test of time had I not ended things.
When the first glimmer of sunlight appeared through my window, I picked up my phone. Delia was always up at the ass crack of dawn. Constantly needing reassurance that I’d made the right decision, I called her the first opportunity I could.
She picked up. “Again you didn’t sleep?”
“I know. Something has to give. I’m a mess. I haven’t even had the energy to dye my tips red.”
“Now, that’s how I know you’re in trouble.”
“Seriously, right? I’m still wearing the blue as if my entire world hadn’t turned upside down!”
“Listen, Rainbow Brite, I was talking to Tig last night, and he agrees that the two of us need to get away.”
“You and Tig?” I panicked. “You can’t leave me alone now!”
“No…you and me! Like a girls’ trip. You need to get out of the city. Everything here is a reminder of Graham.”
“Where exactly would we go?”
“Well, seeing as though you don’t have a millionaire boyfriend anymore, we obviously have to think about cost, but anyway, I think I have the perfect solution for that.”
“Okay…”
“I told you my brother Abe works in Japanimation? He’s over in Japan now, actually.”
Groggily making my way to the kitchen to start some coffee, I yawned. “You want to go to Japan?”
“No! Abe owns a condo right near the ocean in California. Hermosa Beach. It’s currently empty. We could stay there for free. I looked at tickets last night, and they’re reasonable, in the three-hundred dollar range. What do you say?”
Anything would be better than staying here in this funk. I couldn’t remember the last time I took any kind of a vacation.
The decision was an easy one. “You know what? Yes. Let’s do it. Let’s go to California.”
***
GROWING UP IN BROOKLYN, I’d always dreamt of seeing California, a setting glorified in many of the television shows I’d grown up watching. Even though I was probably the opposite of a stereotypical California girl, I’d itched to see the Pacific Ocean and experience the carefree living I’d always associated with the Left Coast. It always seemed like the polar opposite of Brooklyn.
Delia’s brother Abe’s place was right on the water. As I sat on the sand, listening to the crashing of the waves, thoughts of Graham were never far behind. Delia was back at the condo sleeping in, and I was taking advantage of the alone time to enjoy the quiet beach before it became crowded.
My attention drifted diagonally across the sand to the only other people on the beach. A woman and a little girl were sitting next to each other with their legs crossed in child’s pose, a position I recognized from the one yoga class I ever took.
Their eyes were closed as they breathed in and out, taking in the sounds of the ocean. Desperate to calm my mind, I did something I normally never would. Approaching them, I asked, “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” the woman said. “We’re almost done with our warm-up meditation, though. Take a seat on the sand and do what we’re doing.”
Closing my eyes, I willed the anxious thoughts of Graham and Genevieve away and tried to focus simply on my breathing and the sounds around me. Over the next half-hour, I followed along as this mother and daughter moved together with synchronized precision, teaching me various positions such as downward dog. I tried not to think about the fact that they reminded me a bit of Genevieve and Chloe. This girl was only a little older than Graham’s daughter.
I definitely felt calmer by the time we were finished.
The woman handed me a water from her bag. “Are you from around here?”
“No, actually. I’m here for the week, visiting from New York.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to New York!” the little girl said, turning to her mother.
“Maybe your father and I can take you next year.”
Excitement filled the girl’s eyes. “Really?”
“Do you take a lot of family trips?” I asked them.
“Mostly short weekend ones, yes. My husband and I share custody of Chloe with her mother.”
I nearly choked on my water. “Did you say Chloe?” I turned to the girl. “Your name is Chloe?”
“Uh huh.” She smiled.
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“Thank you.”
Turning to the woman, I asked, “So…you’re her stepmom?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. I just assumed…”
“That she’s my daughter? Because we’re close?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’d be right. She is my daughter. I don’t consider her any less of a real child because she’s not blood-related to me.”
“I’m lucky to have two moms,” Chloe said.
I nodded in silence. “Yes, you are.”
“Well, we have to run. Chloe has ballet practice.” She held out her hand. “I’m Natasha, by the way.”
I took it. “Soraya.”
“It was wonderful to meet you, Soraya. Hope you enjoy your stay in Hermosa Beach.”
“Maybe we’ll see you in New York next year!” Chloe said, jumping up and down.
I smiled. “Maybe. Thanks again for the yoga class.”
Left alone again on the sand, I contemplated what that encounter meant. In the days leading up to my ending things with Graham, I’d been looking for signs to justify that my leaving him was the right thing. I wasn’t looking for any signs at all today, yet that one hit me in the face like a ton of bricks.
Chloe.
That was no coincidence.
I’d never once considered that a child might view having a stepmother as gaining a parent rather than losing one to another person. My own personal experiences had been guiding my decisions. Theresa never even tried to get to know me, let alone acted like a second mother. She never made an effort to include me in anything that my father and her daughters did together. It wouldn’t have been like that with Chloe and me. Why had I never thought of it this way? Fear, stress, and guilt had blinded me, and now I was seeing things for the first time from an entirely different perspective—now that it was too late.