Mom Jeans and Other Mistakes

by Alexa Martin

  I hear footsteps approaching and contemplate for a second before deciding to put away my phone and try my hand at being the peppy school mom. I just really hope it’s Sabrina . . . or really anybody other than Jennifer. I saw her on Monday and things were fine . . . but not great. And I’d rather avoid any awkwardness today.

  I shove my phone in my purse and look up with what I think is my friendly smile plastered on my face, prepared to say hi, when I realize I should’ve wished for Jennifer.

  “Ben? What are you doing here?”

  This has got to be some kind of a cruel joke. Just two months ago he didn’t even know the name of the school Adelaide was attending, now he wants to show up without even contacting me or my lawyer? Of course he does it here. Not that I like to cause scenes anywhere, but there’s no way I would create one outside of our daughter’s school. Which he knows.

  “Lauren, hey.” He gives me an awkward wave that’s so unlike him. His movements are always sure—confident. “I didn’t know I’d see you here.”

  “Well, it’s kind of where Adelaide goes to school, so I’m not sure what you expected.” His eyebrows raise, and even I’m a little taken back by the irritation lacing my words. I guess Jude has been rubbing off on me after all.

  “Oh yeah.” He stops a few feet in front of me, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I guess I just thought you’d be at work; Junie told me she’s been going to after-school care. I thought since I was off today, I’d just grab her.”

  I’ve always let Adelaide call Ben whenever she wanted, but because of the upcoming custody meetings, Ben now has to answer. We set up three times a week when Adelaide FaceTimes him and fills him in on everything happening in her life. Of course, this week, that included talking nonstop about her new school, showing him every craft she made, and telling him she was in after-school care.

  “You thought this without checking with me first?”

  Peak Ben. Classic freaking Ben. Does what he wants, when he wants. Screw everyone else.

  “No . . . I mean, of course I wanted to check with you. My lawyer said it would be okay if I did this because the custody is still open. We were going to call you in the car. I figured since I was supposed to have her next weekend, we could just switch. I’ll take her tonight and then she can spend the weekend with me. And next weekend she’ll stay with you.” He takes a small step closer to me before he stops. “I missed her first day of school, I want to make up for that . . . and everything else I’ve missed. I made us reservations at this little tea party place and got tickets to see the Broadway production of Frozen.”

  I don’t know if I’m more irritated that Ben was practically going to kidnap my daughter or that even knowing this, I still feel a twinge of guilt for not being able to give Adelaide everything she deserves. A tea party and a Broadway show? She’d love that and there’s no way I can afford it.

  Ben must take my silence for no, because he starts talking again.

  “Listen, I know I really fucked up with this lawyer stuff,” he whispers, looking over his shoulder to make sure we’re still alone. “But you know my mom. She just pushed me into it and I didn’t stop her, I should’ve stopped her. I know you’re a great mom and I don’t want to take Junie from you. Hell, my schedule’s so crazy right now I’d still barely see her if she was with me all the time.”

  I hate the way Ben makes me feel.

  It’s always been like this. If he hadn’t left me, I probably would’ve stayed and tried to forgive him for cheating. The second he apologizes, it’s like my brain malfunctions. Every instinct I have telling me to stand my ground and tell him no vanishes.

  “I don’t know, Ben,” I say, but any of the force I felt when I first saw him is gone. My words are weak and so is my resolve. “I planned a night with her, too, and we’ve really been looking forward to it.”

  “Please, Lala.” He uses the nickname he started calling me soon after we met. I loved it so much. If I’m being honest, I miss it. “I’m trying to step up here, I want to be a part of her life. I know I let you down years ago and then I let you down again with the custody stuff.”

  “I want you to be involved too. I always have, you know that.” My voice wavers just as my sinuses begin to burn. Every time he would miss her call or cancel when he was supposed to get her, my heart broke. All I’ve ever wanted is for Adelaide to know she’s loved by both her parents.

  “I know. And you’ve always been great about letting me spend time with her. I’m not going to go after full, I never was. I only put that in the papers because the lawyer and my mom agreed it was the best way to start negotiations. When we have the meeting, I was already planning on changing it to weekends or something you’re more comfortable with. I promise. I just want to be involved. That’s it.”

  The relief I feel hearing he doesn’t want to go for full custody is palpable. I’ve been living in constant fear since I was served those papers. Every move and every decision I made were with the possibility of losing my daughter in the back of my mind. But I know Ben. I know his ego. So maybe if I just keep doing what I’ve always done for him, just let him be . . . he won’t change his mind.

  And then I can plan another night with Adelaide, because she’ll be with me. Yes, I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week, but I’ve been loving Adelaide for her entire life and we can make so many more memories. She’ll have fun with Ben . . . and then he’ll realize how easy co-parenting can be if we just talk. Without lawyers.

  “Okay.” I know it’s for the best, but the simple word tastes like acid rolling off my tongue. “She can go with you, but I just want to see her, let her know the plans have changed.”

  His smile lights up his beautiful face as he closes the gap between us and wraps me in a giant hug. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  But I do.

  It’s about Adelaide, so it means everything.

  She’s everything.

  When he lets me go and takes a step back, I realize we aren’t alone anymore and a small crowd of moms who are dressed to be seen, not just sit in their cars, are congregated around us. Thankfully, none of them look familiar.

  Before I can think too much of it, the bell rings and it’s only a few seconds later that the sidewalks fill up with a swarm of navy, red, and white. The double door in front of us opens and Adelaide’s teacher, Mrs. Allen, appears, holding hands with a little boy with red eyes and tearstained cheeks. She holds on to him as she lets the rest of the class file out of the door, repeating a reminder of “don’t run” every five seconds or so.

  When Adelaide appears in the doorway, her little eyes light up. Seeing me and Ben together is not a common occurrence in her life. And despite her teacher saying not to run, she takes off into a sprint, colliding with me and Ben, trying to wrap her little arms around both of us.

  “Hey, my love!” I squat down and pull her into me, soaking her up, breathing in her scent. She smells like sunshine and dirt. “How was school?”

  “It was so fun! We got to go to the garden and pick a piece of fruit from one of the trees to take home.” She peels her backpack off her shoulders and drops it to the ground, making quick work of the zipper and pulling out an avocado. “I picked this for Auntie Jude because she likes them so much, but always says that stores are ripping her money.”

  Jude does complain about stores ripping her off a lot. But if she stopped shopping at Whole Foods all the time and woke up early enough to come to the farmers’ market with me and Addy, she wouldn’t be.

  “That was so thoughtful of you, Jude is going to love it so, so much.” I pull her in for another hug, peppering her face with kisses.

  “Mommy!” She pulls away from me, trying to look mad, but her giggles give away her real feelings. “Stop kissing me!”

  “But I love kissing you.” I stick out my bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, and because she’
s the sweetest girl in the entire world, she leans in and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.

  My heart constricts.

  I’ll never get used to the way it feels to love somebody so much.

  “Daddy.” She looks up at Ben. Her cheeks are bright red, her curls are a mess on the top of her head, and there’s faded paint staining her little hands. Proof of a great day at school. “Are you coming to play with me and Mommy? We’re going to have a girls’ night, but since you’re a daddy, you can come too. Right, Mommy?”

  I look at Ben and he nods, letting me break the news to Adelaide that I think only I’m going to be sad about.

  “Actually, Daddy’s here because he has a surprise for you.” Just like I knew they would, her eyes go wide and her already big smile grows at the mention of a surprise. “He’s going to take you for a tea party and then guess what?”

  She’s bouncing on her toes, like her body can’t physically hold all of the excitement. “What?”

  “Then you are going to see Frozen with the real Elsa!”

  The squeal that comes from her body is almost enough to puncture eardrums, but there’s so much joy in it, I can’t help but laugh as she jumps into Ben’s arms.

  “Does that mean you’re excited, Junie girl?” Ben asks, his beautiful smile aimed at Adelaide, his eyes shining with love. For a moment, I forget everything he’s put me through and only see the man I fell in love with, wishing more than anything that we could still be a family.

  “I’m so excited!” She’s still shouting, but thanks to all the kids running around, it just kind of blends in with the noise. “Is Mommy coming too?”

  Ben’s smile fades just a bit and he looks to me.

  “Not tonight,” I tell her, trying as hard as I can to keep the smile on my face. “Tonight you’re going to have a special time with Daddy. Then you get to spend the night with him and Stephanie, and I’ll come get you on Sunday. But I want you to call me tonight and tell me everything about it, okay?”

  “Okay!” Her smile doesn’t falter a bit at the news. She pushes against Ben’s tall, lean body, signaling for him to put her down, and comes back over to me, wrapping me up in one of her best hugs. “I’ll call you tonight and tell you everything! You should go watch the Frozen movie so you know what I’m talking about.” She says this like she didn’t watch Frozen for two months straight and I couldn’t forget the movie even if I bleached my brain. “And will you give Auntie Jude her avocado?”

  “Of course I will.” I take the avocado, which is as big as her hand, as she pulls it out of her backpack again. “I love you, okay? Have so much fun with Daddy.”

  “I will!” She holds her arms up and I pick her up, smothering her face with kisses again as she wraps her legs and arms around me. I close my eyes, trying to memorize this moment, the weight of her tiny body in my arms, the sound of her voice, hoping it can hold me over for the weekend. “Love you, Mommy,” she says as I put her down.

  She zips up her backpack and I help her get it back on her shoulders before she skips over to Ben. He holds out his hand and she wraps her little fingers around it. Turning around as they start to walk away and shouting, “Bye, Mommy! I love you!”

  I know I can’t say it to her retreating form without breaking into tears, so instead I just blow her kisses and wave until she turns around and looks up at Ben, her little mouth moving a mile a minute. I stand frozen—no pun intended—to my spot on the sidewalk, watching them until I don’t see them anymore before I turn and make my way back to my car.

  Alone.

  It’s not that I want Adelaide to be sad we’re not spending the evening together, but I kind of want her to be sad? I don’t know. I feel crazy. I think I am crazy. Because I’m so happy she’s going to get to have this wonderful experience with her dad, but I’m also so sad because I won’t be there to see it. Missing these moments with her is the thing I think I’ll die regretting.

  But there’s nothing I can do about it, so I do what I’m good at. I pretend. I pretend I won’t spend the weekend wanting to cry. I pretend that even one fewer night with her doesn’t shatter my heart and make me want to crawl into bed and not get out until I get to see her again.

  I pretend I’m not broken.

  I unlock the door to my car, trying to remind myself that giving up this one moment will give me so many more in the future. It will prove to Ben that I’m willing to be flexible and this whole nightmare can be over at our meeting.

  But then, out of the corner of my eye, I see the bright pink gift bag next to Adelaide’s car seat that I filled with goodies for our special night.

  The tears I always hold back fall and the ache in my chest becomes uncontrollable. Alone in my car, in the parking lot of my daughter’s school, I break.

  TWENTY-ONE

  • • •

  Jude

  Spencer is definitely a terrible influence.

  And I’m okay with that.

  Our “happy hour” turned into a sleepover, which turned into club hopping, which turned into another sleepover. And even though I’ve been pounding Pedialyte and water intermittently since Saturday morning, I still feel like death.

  I’m getting too old for this shit.

  I texted Lauren on Friday night not to expect me home, and all she sent me was a thumbs-up emoji. I know she had a superspecial night planned with Addy. She was probably relieved I made myself disappear for the weekend. I know they love me, but I also know I get in the way sometimes and they need time alone.

  Plus, with my impending brunch with Juliette Andrews, I would’ve been on edge and Lauren would’ve broken me. Guaranteed.

  So yeah, what I’m saying is that I hid.

  Sue me.

  I walk down the path to our house, my hair a mess, and wearing some of Spencer’s neon-green biker shorts, a black hoodie, and sunglasses that hopefully cover the dark circles under my eyes. I look a hot-ass mess. It’s the perfect visual representation of both my life and my mental state.

  What the fuck does my mom need this time?

  I slide my key in the door and twist open the knob, bracing myself for the impact of Addy hurtling her little body at me. It’s only nine a.m., but that girl is an alarm clock that never fails. She never sleeps past seven.

  But when I take a step inside, there’s no sign of Addy anywhere. No breakfast on the table, no early-morning cartoons, no giggles or singing. No cartwheels upstairs making the ceiling shake.

  Instead, Lauren’s laid out on the couch watching some depressing-looking shit on TV. The remote is on the floor surrounded by empty soda bottles and an empty pint of Ben & Jerry’s. Even her hair, which she has meticulously wrapped in a headscarf every night from the time I met her, is wild and matted like she hasn’t moved from this spot in days.

  Oh.

  Shit.

  “Hey.” She doesn’t even lift her head off the pillow. “Didn’t expect you back so early.”

  “Ummm . . .” I look around, not knowing what happened or what to say. Which is practically a first for me. “Are you okay?”

  Stupid question.

  She is very clearly not okay.

  “Oh yeah, sure.” She sits up, her foot falling from the couch and knocking over the empty ice cream container. “Just relaxing and enjoying the quiet, catching up on some Netflix.”

  “Netflix is always fun.” I walk over to the couch, keeping my steps slow and even like she’s some alley cat who will pounce. When she doesn’t jump up and run from me, I sit down next to her.

  “Totally,” she says.

  Lauren might be a quiet little introvert to the rest of the world, but not to me. To me, she’s a talker. We share everything. We talk about everything. What we don’t do is give one-word responses.

  “Soooo . . .” I decide I have to point out the obvious since she’s clearly not going to. “Where’s Addy? I
thought you two were having your superfun girls’ night slash weekend?”

  I barely get the sentence out before tears start rolling down Lauren’s face. Not small, dainty tears. Big, ugly tears. With a snot nose and noises. I mean, she’s full-on sobbing.

  “Oh my god.” I reach over and wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my body. Seeing her cry was already enough to break my heart, but feeling her body shake as the sobs roll from what feels like her soul, I’m ready to commit murder. “What happened? Do I need to hurt somebody?”

  She starts to take some deep breaths to slow the tears and control her breathing. When she finally stops shaking, she sits back and stares at me with bloodshot eyes and a watery smile.

  “Nothing happened, really,” she says, what feels like ages later. “I’m just being so dramatic.”

  That’s all she has to say to let me know who is at the root of whatever happened while I was gone.

  “What the fuck did Ben do this time?”

  Her swollen eyes widen just a smidge. “How’d you know it has to do with Ben?”

  “Because he’s literally the only person on this planet who makes you doubt yourself like this.” Maybe because she’s so obviously hurting right now, I should pull my punches. Or maybe, this is the time for me to finally say what I’ve been thinking for years. “Even with your mom, you fight back. But with Ben? You question your entire being. You let him get away with any- and everything and then blame yourself for his shit. So, Lauren Honor Turner, I’ll ask again. What the fuck did Ben do?”

  She takes a deep breath and looks down at her poor, battered manicure. “He showed up at Remington after school on Friday.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

  Mine is not. “He what?!”

  “He made reservations to take her to a little tea party place and had tickets to take her to see the Broadway production of Frozen,” she says, still avoiding eye contact with me.