by Maci Bookout
Things really were turning out okay. Being a teen mom hadn’t ruined my life. I’d managed to get through the worst of it and grow up. Now I wasn’t a teen mom at all. I was just a mom. I was older and wiser, and I’d grown confident in my role. I’d settled in, and I was happy being Bentley’s mom. But there was a blank space in the picture that I just couldn’t ignore.
Why couldn’t Ryan see what he was missing?
CHAPTER 19:
REPLAY
replaying years in mind
knowing what went wrong
remembering that night
aware we weren’t that strong
letting myself go
allowing ownership to you
forgiving struggles created
still something i’d never undo
wish it had been known
the pain love could create
question always asked
would i go back and wait
shared time and experience
with what is most beautiful to me
world full of happy sacrifice
person i came to be
what is known now
i wouldn’t go back and wait
i’d take the same result
only with someone i don’t hate
CHAPTER 20:
COPING WITH CO-PARENTING
Being a single mom isn’t the end of the world. Not for the mom, and not for the kid. Countless kids have grown up happy and loved with one or even both biological parents out of the picture. Single parents, grandparents, and adoptive parents wind up in the driver’s seat for many different reasons. All families are different, and there’s no shame in having an arrangement that doesn’t fit the stereotypical ideal of two happy, healthy, responsible parents who stay together until they die of old age. There’s nothing wrong with seeing the value in that, either, or in striving for it. But if it doesn’t work out, it’s still perfectly possible to be a good parent and raise an amazing kid.
Fine and good. That doesn’t make it any easier to watch a parent flat-out refuse to parent for no discernible reason.
It wasn’t something I could just get over, because it was never going to be finished. Ryan would always be Bentley’s father, and as time went on, that fact would only take on more meaning. The worst part was the helpless feeling that each passing day brought Bentley closer to having his first real thoughts and feelings about Ryan’s absence. It was one thing when Bentley was too young to grasp the situation or form lasting memories of his home life. But Bentley turned three, turned four, turned five, and each year brought him closer to being able to consider the situation for himself. When would that happen? I was always wondering and dreading. Would he make it through pre-school without noticing that other kids knew their dads as well as they knew their moms?
When would he pick up on it? When would he start to care? When would it start to hurt?
Was it so crazy for me to keep hoping Ryan would come back around and start parenting? How could I give up on it when there was still a chance for him and Bentley to make a connection before the damage became irreparable? And how could I come to terms with Ryan’s perspective when I couldn’t find a way to make sense of it? I often found myself circling back to the thoughts that had flickered in my mind back when I was just a teen: He and I had it so much easier than other people in our situation. Yes, we’d been unprepared for parenthood. Yes, it sucked to grow up before we were supposed to. But Ryan had more control and freedom to enjoy being Bentley’s dad than most young dads can even dream of. That wasn’t supposed to be the case, but it was. He didn’t have to lift a finger if he didn’t have to. Between me, my parents, and his parents, the diapers were changed and the work was done. We had a TV show providing us with income. He didn’t even have to deal with me! I’m not perfect, but I’m not some crazy baby momma, and I was more than happy to leave him alone.
Everyone around him was taking care of the hard stuff. It would have been so easy for him to participate. And yet he wouldn’t even take on the fun stuff, like when Bentley started playing baseball. On a Friday night went Bentley had baseball practice and plans to spend the weekend at Ryan’s house, it was Ryan’s mom Jen who met me at practice, and it was Jen and Larry he went home with. When Bentley had a game the next day, it was Jen and Larry at the game and Jen and Larry driving him home again. Ryan almost never even stopped by. Bentley never expected him to.
I couldn’t make myself okay with the fact that my co-parent wasn’t Ryan, but Ryan’s parents. Yet that was the reality. Once upon a time I had hoped that when Ryan and I broke up, it would allow him and Bentley to get closer together. If I was really the reason he was so miserable in that house with us, fine. Then surely if I wasn’t there to terrorize him, he’d be free to approach Bentley and their emotional relationship would finally develop a little bit. And if that wasn’t enough, if the enthusiasm still wasn’t there, then I hoped at least he’d have no choice but to step up at least a little bit as a father, considering that from then on all his time with Bentley would be spent without me there to take care of things by default. Essentially, I had hoped the one good thing that would come out of our breakup would be that Ryan and Bentley would finally spend some time together one on one.
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Instead, Ryan’s mom Jen picked up right where I left off. Both of Ryan’s parents were instantly dedicated to Bentley and involved themselves completely in his life. I was extremely grateful for their support, but at the same time, they were supposed to be grandparents, not co-parents. Since they were so willing to take care of Bentley in Ryan’s place, it was extremely easy for him to stay disconnected and uninvolved.
For a long time, I didn’t feel like they were willing to stick up for me when Ryan was being Ryan. But Jen and Larry were also in an extremely difficult position. I had full custody of Bentley, and there was no court order or anything in place that guaranteed them time with their grandson. Meanwhile, Ryan was supposed to be their main link to Bentley, and yet he preferred to remain on some other faraway planet. To put it bluntly, if I had been a crazy woman, I could have taken Bentley somewhere and said, “You’re not seeing him unless you get a judge to make me.” There would have been nothing they could do about it, unless Ryan actually took me to court.
In the beginning they didn’t know me or trust me enough to be comfortable with that situation, and who could blame them? So there was a time when instead of being upfront about Ryan’s behavior, they played both sides of the fence with the intention of getting Ryan to fight for those visitation rights. They were just afraid of not having any established connection to Bentley. Who could hold that against them?
But as the years went on, they realized I would never take Bentley from them or them from Bentley. I would never make Bentley pay for the fact that Ryan got on my nerves. Once that was clear, they were more on my side. We’ve always been on the same side, really, even if we disagreed in places.
And we did. I wished to God Ryan’s parents would make him take responsibility. I wished to God they would have handled it the way that I think my parents would have. Because unless I was a drug addict who ran off and disappeared and they didn’t know if I was alive or dead, my parents would never have let that responsibility fall on them. They warned me of that the day I told them I was pregnant, and they meant it. Not because they didn’t enjoy being with Bentley or enjoy helping me, but because that wasn’t how they raised me. They didn’t raise me to be the type of person who would dump my responsibilities on whoever was willing, just so I could run around doing whatever I wanted. It was because they wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of me willfully disconnecting myself from my child.
If the roles were reversed, if Ryan had full custody of Bentley and I was the one avoiding all my responsibilities, my parents would have done whatever they could to make sure Bentley was cared for. It’s just that in their world, that would include fighting tooth and nail to make me accept my role as his parent. Because t
hat was what was best for Bentley: Both parents taking care of him. Both parents showing him they loved him. Both parents helping him grow. Both parents making it absolutely clear that he was wanted and appreciated. That was what he needed. Having two amazing sets of grandparents would never erase or cover up the fact that Bentley was going to grow up possibly thinking of his father as a guy who never seemed to want to be there. That was what broke my heart, and that was what made it hard to just be grateful for Jen and Larry’s help.
We worked hard to build a healthy relationship and not let Ryan’s behavior interfere, but it was hard to stay out of that shadow all the time. It caused tension in strange ways. What drove me crazy was when they’d spoil Bentley on his visits. All grandparents spoil their grandkids, but that doesn’t mean letting them get away with murder. From what I saw at their house, if he wanted to act like a little shit, that was fine. If he wanted to talk back, that was fine. There was very little discipline. And of course, all I could see was them treating Bentley just like they’d treated Ryan. How on Earth could they not see the problem with that? In the years since Bentley was born, we’d all had front row seats to the heartbreaking consequences of Ryan doing whatever he wanted and never having to answer for it. And yet they saw no problem being just as indulgent with Bentley as they’d been with Ryan. I felt like I tried to get them to take a different approach. If I saw Bentley talking back to Jen or acting a certain way when I was there picking him up or dropping him off, I’d get on him, and he’d straighten up. So I’d turn to Ryan’s parents and say, “Don’t let him do that! Quit letting him act like that!” But it was no use, and I couldn’t put it any more strongly than that. What could I say? This is how shitheads are made?
All differences aside, we did our best to develop a relationship and do right by Bentley. There was only one time when the friction over Ryan came to a head. One night I was in the kitchen at Ryan’s house with him and his mom, dropping Bentley off. Ryan and I had been arguing about something, since that was all that happened when we had to talk. He said something rude to me, and his mom spoke up to say, “Okay, that’s enough, you need to quit.” And right there in front of her, he called me a bitch. She started to get onto him for it, and he just walked out of the house, slammed the door, and went for his truck. And she just gave up and let him go.
For whatever reason, it was the straw that broke my back. “He’s like this because you let him be,” I snapped. “The only reason he acts like this is because you let him get away with it. You let him talk to you like this. You never make him do anything. You never tell him to be an adult.” I really went off, loud and angry, and then I stormed off, too, and left her in tears. She didn’t argue with me, and we never talked about it again. But it wasn’t like my feelings had ever been a secret, and it wasn’t like she was blind.
Ryan’s parents weren’t clueless about who he was becoming. They had their own understanding of the situation. Obviously, they’d known him all his life. At the same time, Ryan was their little boy just like Bentley was mine. And at that point, I couldn’t expect them to control his behavior. He was a grown man. What was Jen supposed to do? Drag him back and give him a spanking? Turn her back on him? It was too late to demand that he become a different person, when he’d had all his life to build up certain entitlements and expectations. You can’t stop a grown-up from acting like an asshole if that’s what he truly wants to do.
I lost plenty of sleep wondering what it would have been like if Ryan’s parents hadn’t stepped in after Bentley was born. Would Ryan have grown up a little, if they hadn’t been there to pick up the slack for him? Or would his behavior have been the same? I hated to consider it, but I had to acknowledge the possibility that having Jen and Larry take on the co-parenting role might actually be the best-case scenario. After all, what if they hadn’t stepped in and Ryan hadn’t stepped up? Or what if he had done more for Bentley, but been even more resentful for it? Would it have been a nightmare situation where Bentley didn’t get all that love and care when he was away from me? What if instead of a non-existent relationship, they had one that was even more emotionally damaging? I couldn’t confidently guess what really would have happened if Ryan’s parents hadn’t been there.
I came to terms with the way that it was, at least as best I could. I had to stop taking out my frustration with Ryan on them. It wasn’t worth hurting their feelings. They’ve always been great people, and Bentley and I have both been blessed to have them. Anyway, it wasn’t their fault. Ryan wasn’t their fault. No one outside of him could be blamed for his apathy toward parenting. It was foolish to blame an outside factor for his apathy. I couldn’t pretend I understood it in the first place. No one could. There was no explanation for his absence from Bentley’s life.
But I had to make some sense of it to keep from losing my mind. I thought about it and thought about it as time went on. For the first couple of years, when Bentley was still young and Ryan was younger himself, I chalked it up to immaturity and an undeveloped parental instinct. He didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t have the nurturing drive, so it was easy for him to slink back and leave me in the driver’s seat full time. Then, when we split up and Ryan still wasn’t motivated to step up for Bentley, I concluded he was just procrastinating. It wasn’t hard to imagine him thinking, “My parents are dealing with it, and Bentley’s too young to know the difference. So I’ll just keep having fun for awhile until it actually matters.”
As Bentley got older and Ryan still didn’t make any moves toward building a stronger relationship with him, I could only guess that he felt like he’d missed his chance. Maybe Ryan imagined he’d be ready to be a dad once Bentley was walking and talking, but since he’d never bothered to practice, he couldn’t figure out how. And since Bentley had already learned not to see him that way, he wasn’t approaching Ryan or asking him to be anywhere. Maybe that made Ryan think, “I’m obviously not needed, so never mind.” Maybe in his eyes, the ship had already sailed.
I couldn’t read his mind. I didn’t know what he was thinking. But one thing was for sure: Ryan’s absence did affect Bentley’s view of him. There was no getting around it. If Jen and Larry couldn’t come to a baseball game, Bentley would ask where they were and why they didn’t come. He never asked why Ryan wasn’t there. Never. It was like it didn’t occur to him. But that wasn’t the end of it. There were times when the stars aligned and Ryan agreed to come and pick Bentley up for a weekend at his family’s house. I barely noticed at first when Bentley started to ask who was coming to pick him up. When I told him it was Jen, he said, “Oh, okay.” But then one day I said his daddy was picking him up, and he didn’t like it. If Ryan was coming, he didn’t want to go.
Just as I’d feared, time had run out. Bentley had gotten old enough to start having feelings about the situation. The fact that they were negative feelings was a hard pill to swallow.
CHAPTER 21:
DON’T JUST EXIST, LIVE
One weekend in September, about nine months after Kyle and I broke up, I went down to Texas with my best friend Raj to visit our friend Casaundra. We spent the weekend hanging out with her and her best friend, a guy named Taylor. I’d actually met Taylor once before, briefly, when the same four of us had happened to be in New Orleans back in spring for a Supercross race. Yes, once again, it came back around to dirt bikes.
The first thing that stood out to me about him was that he had no idea who I was. After he’d been around me for a second and saw people taking pictures of me, he figured out I was on TV. But he never so much as brought it up. He just treated me like I was Maci, some girl he’d met with his friends. It was a breath of fresh air to be around someone new, who didn’t give a shit about the TV show I was on.
Down in Texas, as the weekend went on, I thought, “I kind of like this guy.” We all had a really good time, and to me it was obvious he was a big part of the reason. It wasn’t like hearts flew out of my eyes, but I really liked him. As far as I could tell, everybody did. It
seemed like everywhere we went, everyone loved Taylor. I was impressed and kind of intrigued. I liked the way he carried himself and put everyone at ease.
Since Kyle, I hadn’t talked to anyone or dated anyone that I’d been interested in. But Taylor was different. I’d never spent time with a guy who was so completely easy to be around. He was down for whatever, no demands and no complaints. I’ve always tried to be friends with everybody. I don’t do gossip or drama, and I like to have a good time with a minimum of negativity. But people can be a pain in the ass. There’s always someone dying to share their negativity with you or put the brakes on a fun night when they get mad about something. But Taylor seemed to have the same attitude as me. He was just down for the ride and wanted things to be cool.
The four of us hit it off so well that he was actually the one to drive Raj and me to the airport when we left. As we said goodbye, I knew that I wouldn’t mind seeing him again. At some point during the weekend when we’d all been hanging out and running around, I’d gotten his number. Sometime after I got home, I started texting him. He texted me back, and after that the conversation never stopped.
Casaundra and Taylor made plans to come down to Chattanooga for Halloween. Once again, we all had a really good time all weekend. After almost two months of flirting over text, we got a chance to flirt in real life.
The last night before Taylor and Casaundra went home was Halloween night, and we had a big party. Taylor and Raj dressed up as nerds in high-water khaki pants, glasses, polo shirts and suspenders. Plus some weird socks. And three of my good friends and I decided to be Ninja Turtles. None of us wanted to do the skanky costume thing, but we didn’t want to be full-fledged turtles, either. So we made it cute. We had tank tops in the perfect turtle green with Ninja Turtle abs spray-painted on the front, and tall green socks to match. Then we all had spandex shorts in the turtle colors. I was Leonardo, so mine were blue. I had a blue bandana tied around my forehead karate style, blue bands around my elbows and knees, and blue Converse sneakers. For the shells, we went to Wal-Mart and got some of those huge foil roasting pans, spray-painted them green, and tied them on like backpacks. And then we got our weapons. It turned out amazing.