“I loved you so much, Mills. Please remember that part, okay? I didn’t know how to be a mom, and Daddy tried so hard to help me, but I thought I should just know what to do.” And instead of welcoming Hank’s guidance—or his mother’s, or even his grandmother’s—she had pushed them away, bluffing through motherhood the way she had bluffed her way through her life until then. Tough it out. Show no weakness. “I didn’t know that I was only making things harder on all of us.”
“Like what?”
“Like, one night you kept crying and crying, and Daddy said you should go to the doctor, but I said, no, I could take care of you.” Because that was what good mothers did. They waved their maternal wand and made things better. At least it always looked that way on Little House on the Prairie. “After two or three days, Daddy finally said you really had to go.” And after that many sleepless nights, Heather had been unable to protest any longer. “Turns out you had an ear infection. If I had taken you to the doctor when Dad first suggested it, you would have got some medicine and started feeling better in a few hours.” Instead, Millie had endured extended unnecessary pain.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Taking a chance, Heather scooped Millie’s hands between her own. “Sweetie, please remember, I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I never ever hit you or...or anything like that.” That, at least, was one lesson she had learned from her own mother. Parenting by hairbrush was something Heather had vowed to never inflict on her own kids, and that was one promise she had been able to keep. “But I didn’t know. And I thought...” Yes. She could admit this part. “I didn’t want anyone to figure out that I didn’t know what I was doing. That was another reason I wouldn’t let anyone help me. I was afraid that if anyone knew I was so...lost...that they might take you away from me.”
“But who—”
“I know. It didn’t make sense.” She smoothed Millie’s cheek. “None of it makes sense now, when I think about it. But sometimes, when you’re in the middle of something, you can’t see it very clearly.”
Millie’s scrunched-up nose was a pretty clear indicator that she had no idea what Heather was trying to say.
“Don’t try to figure that out, kiddo. It might take a few years to understand.”
A small nod. A tiny twirl of one ringlet with her finger. Then—
“But why did you go?”
The whisper was so tiny, so loaded with fear, that Heather knew she had to give Millie the truth this time. For she had learned the hard way that solid truth was rarely as devastating as imagined terror.
“One day, when you were not quite two years old, you wanted to play outside. It was a beautiful day. It was August, and we’d had a heat wave, but then it broke and we had this stretch of glorious weather, sunny and just warm enough, with the bluest skies. You wanted to be outside all the time. You loved to splash in the little creek that ran behind our place. You would spend hours there, throwing rocks in the water and watching the ducks and making leaves float.” She tugged on one curl of Millie’s hair. “You were such a little scientist, even back then.”
A hint of a grin pulled at Millie’s lips.
“But I was very tired that day, and really busy.” Tired from being up all night, fighting with Hank over money and child care and all the other frustrations that had served as a cover for her growing belief that she and he were not meant to be together. Worn out from doing the samba of job, classes, Millie. Exhausted from trying to convince the world that she had this, she was fine, just fine, when inside she was a quivering mass of doubt and fear and constant panic that she was going to slip and do something horrific and lose the one thing she could not lose. “So I didn’t take you out to play. We had to run errands and do laundry, and a million other things that all seemed so important.”
It had taken years before she could walk into a Laundromat without fighting tears.
“Anyway, it was finally time for your nap. You didn’t want to go to sleep. Some things never change.” With a smile, she stroked the back of Millie’s hand. “You had just moved into a big girl toddler bed, because you kept climbing out of your crib and we were afraid that you would fall and get hurt. But you kept getting out of the bed. And I was so tired that I didn’t know how to make you stay, other than maybe lock you in your room, but even I knew that wasn’t a good idea. So I took you into my room and lay down with you on my bed and you finally fell asleep. And then I did, too. No surprise, right?”
Millie nodded, then shook her head.
“I was really, really tired. More than I knew. So when you woke up before me and climbed out of bed, I didn’t hear you.” Heather glanced up to heaven for the right words, for the ability to get through the rest without falling apart. “I didn’t hear you leave the room. Or open the door to outside.”
Millie’s eyes opened wide. “I went outside by myself?”
“You did. And you went down to the creek.”
“That wasn’t good, was it?”
“You were two years old, sweetie. Not even that. You didn’t know. But I did.”
“What happened?”
“I woke up. And I couldn’t find you. At first I thought you had gone to your bed, but you weren’t there.” That was about when her heart had started pounding hard. “I looked all through the house, in all your favorite hiding spots. I was sure you had decided to play a trick on me. You know, curl up and hide, and then you were so cozy that you fell asleep. Because sometimes you did that.” She tightened her grip on Millie’s hand. “Then I saw that the back door was open.”
Millie recoiled.
“I ran through the yard. Down to the creek.”
Heather could still feel the branches that had raked her face as she ducked beneath them, could still taste the fear, metallic in her mouth. Could still feel herself stumble as she tried to go fast, faster, knowing she had to fly but unable to do so on limbs that had forgotten how to move.
“Was I there? At the creek?”
“Yes.” Heather ran her hands over Millie’s hair, twirling her fingers through it, binding herself to her girl. “You were lying at the edge of the water. You were all wet.” She swallowed, pushed out the words. “You weren’t moving.”
“What happened to me?”
Heather breathed in. Fought for strength.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I thought you... I thought I had lost you.”
“You thought I died?”
In her dreams, Heather still heard the scream that had ripped out of her at the sight of that small, still body. She still felt the way Millie’s name had pounded through her, still felt the ground rising up to hit her knees, still felt the grass and rocks digging into her arms as she half crawled, half walked to her silent baby.
“Yes,” she said. “I thought you had drowned.”
“But I didn’t.” Millie patted at Heather’s face, brushed at the tears slipping down Heather’s cheeks. “I didn’t, Mommy. It’s okay.”
Heather reached up to close her hand over Millie’s. “The hardest thing I ever did in my life was when I turned you over. I was sure I would see...” But to this day, she couldn’t make herself picture the blank stare and lax limbs of death. Not on her baby. “Then you scrunched up your face the way you always did when you didn’t want to wake up, and you stuck your thumb in your mouth. And I knew you were okay.”
Heather would never know how long she lay there in the cold mud, clutching Millie to her chest and sobbing over her. She would never forget how her legs wouldn’t hold her up, how her knees collapsed beneath her with almost every step as she carried her wriggling, protesting, living daughter into the house.
“I brought you inside, and I gave you a bath, because you were all muddy. Then I made you your favorite macaroni and let you eat it on the floor of my bedroom.” She swallowed down the hurt. “Because I needed to make sure
you were safe while I packed.”
“That was when you left?”
“That night, honey. As soon as Daddy came home.”
“But I was okay.”
Heather knew what was coming. “And you think that means I should have stayed.”
Millie nodded, confusion written in the wrinkle of her nose.
“The thing is, Mills... I knew, more than anything else, that it was my fault. All of it. I wasn’t just afraid that I was a bad mother, I knew I was. And you almost died because of it.”
“But—”
“I know. It wasn’t as terrible as I thought, right? Just a horrible mistake that I could have avoided if I’d had the sense to lock the door.”
Millie nodded.
“You’re right. But I couldn’t see it then. All I could see was that it was my fault. That I was a terrible mother, worse than my own mom. I felt like this was a...a warning.”
“From God?”
“God, the Universe, the Evil Eye... I didn’t know. Didn’t care, really. I just knew that the next time, we wouldn’t be that lucky. And I knew, with everything inside me, that the only thing I could do to keep you safe was...”
“To leave?”
“Yeah.” Heather’s voice broke. “To leave.”
“And that’s why you left me? To make sure I wouldn’t die?”
“That’s about it, baby girl.”
“But that is so stupid!”
Laughter poured out of Heather as she pulled Millie close, all the more welcome because it caught her by surprise. “Oh, sweetie. You’re right. One hundred percent, absolutely right.” She kissed the top of the curly head. “But I was such a wreck that I didn’t know it then.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“I don’t expect you to, baby. And I have a feeling we’re going to have to talk about this a lot of times, and it will probably never make sense to you, because really, there’s nothing sensible about it.”
Millie’s head rested against Heather’s shoulder, warm and perfect and still a miracle. But there remained a stiffness to her body.
Heather was pretty sure she knew why.
“You’re wondering about the rest, right?” She stroked Millie’s head. “About why I didn’t figure out I was being stupid and come home right away?”
The small movement at her shoulder felt close enough to a nod that she felt safe in continuing.
“It wasn’t that easy, honey. I hurt a lot of people by running away.”
“Like Daddy?”
“You, most of all. Then Daddy, and Grandma and Grandpa, and all your uncles, and even Grandma Moxie. They all had tried to help me. And then they all had to step in when I ran away and help Daddy take care of you.”
“That’s when Daddy and me went to live with Grandma and Grandpa, right?”
“Right.”
“But they all like you now.”
“Which is all the proof you need that Daddy and his family are really wonderful people.”
And they were.
Millie snuggled in a little closer, her hair tickling Heather’s cheek, and ran her finger over the lone pink nail. “I missed you.”
“Oh, baby. I missed you, too, every minute. And you will never know how much I wish things had been different.”
But it wasn’t that simple. Millie deserved to know the rest—the part that Heather hadn’t really understood until recently.
I regret all the hurt and worry I caused people. Especially my folks. But if I hadn’t hacked, I wouldn’t have hid at Ian’s place, and if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have Cady. And I don’t regret anything that brought her into my life.
“Mills...listen. What I need to tell you now might be hard to understand, but I think you might be old enough to hear it. So promise you won’t freak, okay?”
“’Kay.”
“I missed you horribly. From the time I left, everything I did—school and work and classes and all of it—I did it all so that someday, I wouldn’t be just a Visit Mommy, but a real mom, one who could be part of your regular life. I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t mess up again. That’s why I didn’t let myself come back home. Not because I didn’t want to be with you, but because I wanted to be sure I was the kind of mom you deserved.” She nuzzled Millie’s head, breathing in her berry scented shampoo. “And even though leaving you was the worst thing I ever did in my life, in a way, I’m glad it happened.”
Millie jerked back. Heather tightened her grip on the small hands.
“I know. That doesn’t make any sense, either. I told you it was hard to understand. But listen, baby. If I hadn’t left you, I might never have figured out how badly I was messed up. I might have kept on the way I was, lying and pretending everything was fine. I might never have dared go to the classes where they taught me how to be a better mom.” She leaned forward to kiss Millie’s forehead. “Even though it was horrible to be so far away from you for so long, if that was the only way I could become the kind of mom that I wanted to be, then I am...well, not glad that it happened. But grateful. Do you understand the difference?”
Millie chewed on her bottom lip. “I think so. Like when I have to get a shot, right? I don’t like it, and it hurts. But I know it’s good for me. ’Cause we learned about polio in school, and Mrs. Rose said that if you got that, you couldn’t walk. Or you died.”
The same kind of speech Heather—and undoubtedly Hank—had given her all these years, but it only sank in when the teacher delivered it.
Parenting Truth Number 77: The parent is the ultimate word until they go to school. After that, it’s demotion city.
“That’s right, babe. And that’s a very good way to understand it. I should have known you would come up with the perfect explanation, my smart girl.”
Millie ducked her head and burrowed into Heather’s side. “I still wish you never left.”
“Me, too, sweetie. But that’s all behind us now. From now on, I’m gonna stick so close to you that you’re gonna beg me to leave you alone.” She poked Millie in the ribs, eliciting a muffled giggle. “I’m going to camp with you next summer. And then I’m going to high school with you. And when you’re, like, all grown up and you go to university, I’m going to pack myself a suitcase and move into the dorm with you. How does that sound?”
Heather draped herself over the squirming mass of gasps and giggles that was her daughter and did her best imitation of a blanket.
“Like this, Mills. This is it. Forever and ever, amen.”
“You’re silly.”
Compared to some of the problems she had dealt with over the years, silly was a cakewalk.
“Give Daddy a little longer, honey. He loves you so much. He just wants what’s best for you.”
“I know.” The long sigh that accompanied the words turned into an oof as Heather heaved herself upright. “Mommy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“And I’m sorry I messed things up so badly that you had to yell. Call it even?”
“Okay.” Millie jumped up from the sofa. “Boy, I’m hungry!”
With that, she was off, racing toward the table and yelling things about microwaves and mashed potatoes and yucky carrots.
Heather gave herself a moment to sag back against the sofa and stare blankly at the ceiling. Dear God, she hoped she hadn’t messed that up.
You probably did better than you think.
She hoped Xander would think so this time, too.
* * *
XANDER HAD NEVER claimed to understand the universe, but some things still amazed him. Like how Halloween seemed to come earlier each year, at least judging by when they rolled out the displays at Wal-Mart. Or what had prompted him to detour down the aisle with the cos
tumes. Or what had made him grab a witch hat and plop it on his head while cackling at Cady.
Yet there he was, trying on one headpiece after another while Cady sat in the cart, choosing hats like a queen ordering an execution and laughing so hard that he was thankful he’d left her in a diaper instead of attempting big girl panties for this outing.
“Dat one!” She pointed to a hat trimmed with black feathers. Xander obediently removed the sequined hat from his head and replaced it with the new version.
“What do you think?” He stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes. Her laughter pealed around him, and Xander’s world pinked up a bit. Pink was way more welcome than the blue and gray and gloom that had overlaid everything since Heather called it quits.
“Three weeks,” he said to Cady. “Probably time for your old man to quit moping, huh?”
Cady’s answer was to snatch the hat from his head and toss it to the ground.
“Easy, kiddo. Don’t ruin the merchandise.”
But maybe she had a point. Maybe it was better that things were over now, before anyone got in deeper. If things had gone on and Cady had fallen for Heather, only to be tossed aside like a cheap witch hat—
He took a deep breath. Nope. He wasn’t going to go down Bitter Road.
“Which one now, Cady?”
“Dat one!” When had they started making witch hats out of shiny purple camo?
“When I was your age, these were plain black. No fur. No glitter. We had to use our imagination.”
“Back in the good old days?”
Huh? Cady couldn’t talk that well yet.
Xander whipped around in search of the amused female voice, so quickly that his hat slid down over his eyes, blocking his view.
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