by Olivia Chase
“Well, we process things differently.”
“I know. But don’t think for a second that I haven’t been scared by what’s been happening between us, because I have. I’m scared that it won’t last, I’m scared that you won’t want me anymore, and I’m scared about the adoption. I just choose to be happy.”
“Well, good for you. You’re Mary Fucking Poppins, practically perfect in every way.” The anger is palpable.
“I think you’re just scared about what happened tonight.”
“You bet your ass I’m scared.” He pulls away from me. “When my sister left her to me, I swore I’d take care of her.”
“And you have.”
“I didn’t know how I would do that, and for a while, I thought that meant by hiring other people to do it for me. You, an adoption agency, whoever. Either way, I would take care of her,” he says. “And I failed tonight, Penelope. I nearly fucked it all up.”
“But you didn’t,” I say quietly.
His eyes turn on me. “Get it through your head. I’m not cut out for this kind of life.”
“This is just one moment. One bad, scary moment, but it will pass,” I plead, starting to feel sick. Starting to feel legitimately nauseous. The look on his face.
The worst is happening.
“Penelope,” he says, and his voice breaks. “We’re living a lie pretending to be parents. I’m the child’s uncle, and you’re her nanny. And that’s the reality. That’s the truth.”
“We are whoever we say we are.”
“No, the world doesn’t work that way. We can’t go on believing we’re a family just because we look like one. I’ve let myself live in a dreamland for too many weeks now.”
“A dreamland?” I scoff. “Is that what you call this amazing life we’ve been living? Seemed pretty damn real to me, Ethan.” I fight the tears rising in my eyes. How dare he negate everything we have just gone through, pretend it didn’t happen or call it a mistake?
“And because of it, we need to go back to the way things were.”
“No, don’t do this…that’s your fear talking…”
“It’s logic talking. Someone has to be the voice of reason in any given situation. I have to be the voice of reason right now, Penelope. This has to end. For all our sakes. Starting tomorrow, I go back to work at the office. You go back to being nanny full-time. In a few days, I’ll call the adoption agency…”
“No. Ethan, please…”
“I cannot be a father. I cannot play house anymore. It was irresponsible of me, and now it’s time to get back on track.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I was nothing to him all this time. I was a nanny with benefits and nothing more. Lilly Belle was nothing to him. He’s weak and scared and cold-hearted. The sooner I stop forcing him into the mold I’d hoped for the man in my life, the happier I’ll be. Ethan Townsend has left the building.
I shake my head. “I thought we were more than this.”
“You thought wrong.”
The tears spill over. I hate myself for crying in front of him. “This is not the voice of reason. Allowing yourself to be happy is the voice of reason. Being the father that little girl needs is the voice of reason. I don’t care if you let me go. I don’t care if you find happiness with another woman. I hope I taught you to believe in love, even if it’s not with me. I’d be happy with that. But don’t tell me that ending this family for Lilly Belle is what’s best for her, because I’m not buying it. You’re her father now, Ethan. Step up to the plate, and be that man.”
Shoving the curtain aside, I pace down the hallway to the stares of nurses and doctors. I’m not leaving. I would never leave that little girl unless he forced me to go, but I need fresh air. I need to get away from his negativity. Let him sit in that room stewing in his own pain, realizing that without me, without the family we created, he is nothing but a ghost of himself.
Ethan
Sitting in my office overlooking Central Park, my natural environment with gray walls and metal furniture reflects my life. Lilly Belle’s accident yesterday was my fault, and there is no way I will let Penelope convince me that it wasn’t. Unlike my mother, I take responsibility for my actions. I left the gate open by accident.
Part of me knows that the fall was not as bad as I made it out to be. Part of me knows this is just an excuse, a giant rationalization because I got in too deep.
But another part of me thinks that it doesn’t matter. Because ultimately I always knew this was going to end badly, that I would destroy anything good that came into my life.
I grew up with a non-existent father and a mother who was withdrawn and depressed or insane and antagonistic. Love, kindness, safety—I never had or experienced these things.
Until now, that is. And unfortunately, now is far too late. I’m fully formed and I won’t be able to change because some lovely young lass stole my heart away. I am who I am, that much is certain.
Penelope and Lilly Belle are better off without me.
“Mr. Townsend? The meeting is about to start.” The rhythm of Bianca’s voice soothes me. It’s calm and reassuring and falls back into place with the world I know. Work, my office, the world of steel and money. This is where I belong, not pretending to be a husband and father. Lilly Belle needs a real father and Penelope needs a real man.
“Thank you, I’ll be right there.” Of course, I won’t be right there. I’ll be there when I damn well please. This is how it’s always been. I pick up the phone, take a deep breath, and make the call.
Coming home to a quiet house, I pause in the doorway and scan around. It’s late. The baby must be sleeping. All night last night, I couldn’t sleep thinking she may have had a concussion, but Wilson has kept in touch with me all day assuring me that she’s fine. I haven’t spoken to Penelope. Her words were harsh.
I understood the meaning behind them, but she doesn’t know what I’ve been through. I am stepping up and being a man. By giving Lilly Belle to a loving family, I am doing right by her.
Entering the kitchen, I grab myself a glass of water. The faint static of the baby monitor is both comforting and a nuisance. I didn’t have that noise before Lilly Belle arrived. I didn’t have to worry about how someone else was doing. I have to go upstairs and find Penelope, tell her that they’ll be coming soon.
Then I hear the sounds of the baby finishing up her bottle in the nursery. She’s not awake. She’s sitting with Penelope in the gliding chair, getting ready for bedtime. Then, I hear it—the singing that comes before the sendoff. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…you make me happy when skies are gray…” The softest, most angelic voice you’ve ever heard.
“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,” I mouth along to Penelope’s singing. “Please don’t take my sunshine away.” I drop my head onto the kitchen counter and fight tears. Tears don’t solve anything, and anyway, I’m all out of tears. I used them all up as a child and teen. Not a single tear gave me the love I desperately needed. Not a single tear made my mother stop screaming insults, stop throwing things when she was in her manic anger, stop ignoring us during her depressive episodes.
I thought I had pushed those emotions away forever, but here they are, back and fresh as if I’m a child again. I can’t live like this. I can’t take feeling again.
Slowly, I head upstairs. When I reach the top, I unlatch the baby gate. Penelope is just closing the door to the nursery. Her eyes are swollen and her face looks gaunt. “You look like you haven’t slept much,” I tell her.
“You’re a charmer.” She spins on her heels and goes into her room about to close her door.
“Miss Wallach, I have to speak to you.” I take steps toward her room and lean against the doorframe, pushing her door open gently.
“Yes, Mr. Townsend?” she says, voice full of spite. It’s okay. She has every right to feel angry. I don’t expect her to understand why it has to be this way. Crossing her arms, she faces me, straight as a stick, holding herself in
the darkness of her room.
Maybe it’s better that she hates me. It will make moving on that much easier for her.
“They’re coming tomorrow afternoon to pick up Lilly Belle.” I say the words as clearly and antiseptically as I can.
I watch her face change like the silent phases of the moon from shock to acceptance to grief then back to being stoic. “It didn’t have to be this way,” she says in a choked voice.
I feel my heart contract painfully and fight the urge to stroke her cheek, to tell her it will be okay, to take it all back and promise to try once more.
“It did have to be this way, Miss Wallach.”
“Stop calling me that. You can go on pretending that life is the same as it was before if you like, Ethan, but I will be the adult here and say that it has been my life’s greatest pleasure being with you and caring for your precious Lilly Belle.” She points to the nursery. “What you have sleeping in that room is the most beautiful, luminescent child I have ever seen, and you will miss her when she’s gone. As I will.” She turns around, controls a sob rising in her chest, then goes about the task of collecting her things off the dresser and night stand.
My arms fall to my sides. “I know you think I’m weak, but I’m not. I’m broken, Penelope. I have to fix myself before I can be anyone’s father. Do you understand?” It’s probably the most responsible thing I have ever and will ever say to anyone.
She turns and looks at me coldly. “What happened to you? What did she do to you?”
So she senses that this is about my mother. I suppose I’ve made it obvious enough.
I sigh deeply. Swallow, control the trembling shaking in my chest. “She had untreated mental illness for years. The list of abuses, both emotional and physical, are long and tedious. I’m tired of thinking about it, frankly.”
“Or maybe you’re tired of pretending not to think about it,” Penelope replies. “You need help.”
It’s like a punch to the gut. She’s right, I realize. But it’s too late for that—too late for me, really.
“Maybe. Maybe I need help. But that’s not the time to become a father to a child in need of stability and balance and love. And you know it,” I finish.
She stares at me, through me, for a long time. After what feels like an eternity, she says, “I’m so sorry you had to go through what you went through, Ethan.”
Just hearing her say those words nearly sends me over the edge. It means so much coming from her. Still, I fight the urge to bring her close, to try and heal one another with soft-spoken words.
I nod but say nothing. It’s not going to happen. I’ve made my decision. “Thank you. You’ll be relieved from your position immediately after the agency comes to pick her up. I’ll be paying for the full four months despite the job coming to termination. That should be more than enough to—”
“Take away your guilt. Fine then, do what you need to do,” she interrupts, her gaze burning a hole into my soul.
And then she turns and walks away from me.
Penelope
Walking into her nursery on the morning I’m set to leave is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Lilly Belle stands in her crib after her morning bottle, arms up, asking me to pick her up. I’m torn. On one hand, it’ll be the last act I do as her nanny, so I should enjoy it. Savor it. On the other hand, it may be easier if I say goodbye from the door. If I can’t hold her, no one will have to rip me away from her.
Wilson waits in the hallway.
Ethan isn’t here, of course. He would never be able to watch this and keep a cold heart.
I’ve taken care of children for three different families since I started working with Le Nanny two years ago, but nobody has affected me quiet like Lilly Belle. Yes, I fell for Ethan and that made it harder, all those moments we spent together as a family, but I loved her more than the rest just the same. We had a special bond, Silly Lilly and me. She lost her parents, and I arrived right when she needed a mommy.
Only I’ll never be her mommy now.
I decide on the hug.
“Hey, sweet pea. Finished your bottle?” I swoop in and pick her up. She’s chunky, and her soft skin smells of powder and milk and yumminess. I love her. I love her so much. Taking a deep breath, I tell her, “Listen, Silly Lilly Belle, you’re going to a new family very soon. I promise you they are going to be the absolute best!”
Lilly Belle gaggles and burps, and laughs.
“And guess what? I told your uncle last night that I wanted the opportunity to see you again when you’re all settled in. He agreed, and he’s requesting for open adoption cases only. So, I will see you again. Got that?”
I don’t know for sure that the agency will be able to comply, but he’s at least going to put in the request. For all I know, they won’t be able to come through, and this is it. This is goodbye. Lilly Belle looks at me, those big saucer wide blue eyes. Quieted down, she seems to understand that what I’m saying is important. I don’t usually talk this much.
She gurgles at me with wide, innocent eyes.
I feel my heart tear irrevocably.
Well, this is it. If I don’t leave now, I’ll miss the next Metro North train leaving for Tarrytown at Grand Central Station. I hold Lilly Belle close to my chest, to my heart, fighting back tears. Fighting them so hard, but it’s no use, because I’m not made of titanium like some people. “I love you, Silly Belle. You be a good girl.” I kiss her chubby little cheeks and carry her out to the hallway.
Handing her over to Wilson is like handing over my arm, or my ribs, or a third of my heart. “Please make sure he does his best by her,” I tell Wilson. Pressing his lips together in sympathy, he nods and I slip Lilly Belle into his arms. Holding her chin in my fingertips and looking into her eyes one last time, I think about the alternatives. There are none.
I wish I could adopt her myself, but I know I can’t. I’m a single woman. I’m only twenty-one. I have nothing to my name but a small business that hardly brings in any income. I’m not a candidate no matter how much I’d like to be.
I turn around and leave as quickly as I can, feeling my soul empty out behind me as I go.
“Babababa!” Lilly Belle shouts.
“I love you, too, sweet pea,” I call out. No turning back.
Life, the city, moves on through blurry, watery tears.
Walking up the sidewalk to my house is more than a homecoming. It’s healing. The moment my mother opens the door and announces, “Penelope’s home!” I break down. Dropping my bag by her side, I let her envelop me with her arms, her hug, her whole aura of love.
This. This is my family, even if I do still feel like I’m missing pieces of myself. What I experienced before was only what could be. A glimpse of one possible future. Like Ethan said, we were playing house.
It feels good to be home, but also terrible all at once. I was only away for seven weeks this time, but a lot happened while I was gone. I fell in love with two different souls, and together, that made it more powerful than anything I’ve ever experienced. My mom knows nothing about it either, but I think it’s time to tell her.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” She wipes my eyes, grabs my bag, and draws me into the house. I say hello to my sisters, tell them that the Townsend Mansion was absolutely beautiful, yes, the city is amazing this time of year, and ignore my mom’s question. Once the kids skedaddle back to their rooms, I face my mom.
“You have time?”
“I make time.” Her golden eyes sparkle in the sunlight.
For the next two hours, we talk at the kitchen table like we used to whenever anything was troubling me. My mom is great at listening, but she’s extra quiet this time, wearing a worried expression, and I feel that she’s going to judge me. How could I fall for my boss, how did I not know better, how could I allow myself to fall so deeply in such a hopeless situation?
But she doesn’t judge me, only leans in and hugs me and tells me how sorry she is.
And then I cry, and cry, and cry som
e more.
And she holds me and doesn’t say anything, because there’s nothing else to be said…
Over the next week or so, I keep myself busy with my small business, working on my contacts list, and sending out promotions while getting ready for the winter semester. I reconnect with some of my friends and try telling myself how great it is to be without Lilly Belle so I can have a social life again. None of it works, but I’m learning to live with the pain of letting go. Whether or not they were right for me, I feel like I lost my husband and daughter.
Soon after, Mom comes into the living room one day holding an open envelope. Her hands are shaking, and the paper trembles, as she stares at it, confused. “Penelope, did you…did you pay off the mortgage on the house?”
“Mom, I don’t get paid that much. Why? What happened?”
“I have to call your father at work then. And the bank. I think this is a mistake.”
“Well, if it’s a mistake in your favor, then don’t call the bank!” I tell her. I mean, seriously. If the universe drops a huge gift in your lap, you don’t give it back. Who is she, Ethan Townsend?
She walks away, scratching her head, mumbling to herself, then she pauses at the sofa and turns around. “You don’t suppose…Ethan paid it off, do you?”
Ethan? I don’t even know how he would do that. He would need my parents’ names and mortgage number, the name of their bank, and all sorts of information in order to pay it off. I didn’t give him any of that. “I don’t see how, Ma.”
“Can you ask him? I mean, I’m grateful. Holy shit, am I grateful…” Finally, the shock wears off and an ecstatic look comes through. Her eyes light up like she’s been given a new lease on life. “If it was him, then he’s quite possibly the most generous man in the world.”