AS PAINFUL AS the days are, I can tolerate them better than the nights. The nights are the worst. In the quiet, after Emmy has gone to bed, the loneliness sets in. The ache I feel for Cole is as visceral as it is emotional. For three nights, I tossed and turned, reliving every moment we spent together. Every smile we shared, every touch we exchanged. And the pain of loss seems only to be getting worse.
It doesn’t help that every night I’ve heard a soft knock at the front door. It’s always later, after Emmy has been asleep for a while. It melts my heart that he considers her in this small way. He never knocks loudly or more than once. It’s as though he’s giving me every chance to forgive him. Yet I don’t.
I can’t. At least not enough to let him back into my life. Emmy doesn’t need the kind of heartache a man like that could bring. I’d have seen that sooner if I’d known he was married.
But today is another day. And I’m hoping with it will come some peace. Finally some peace.
“Do you like it here, Emmy?” I ask as she sits sprawled in front of her bookcase, deciding which book she wants to read to me later this evening.
“Uh-huh,” she mumbles with a nod. She’s distracted.
“Would you be happy if we stayed here?”
I don’t know what I want her to say. Either answer will hurt, but a “no” might make it easier on me in the long run. I can look back and know that leaving was what I did for my daughter’s happiness and wellbeing, that getting away from Cole wasn’t an act of cowardice, but a byproduct of doing what’s best for my child.
“Yeah. Would you?” She turns to look at me, her eyes finding mine. She’s definitely not distracted now.
“I’m happy when you’re happy.”
“You always say that, but you’re happy when Mr. Danzer’s around, too.” Her lips spread into a mischievous grin that brings out her dimples. “I can tell.”
“You can? And just how do you think you can tell, Smartypants?”
“You look at him funny.”
“Funny how?”
She giggles. “I don’t know. Like you want him to hold your hand.”
“I do?”
She nods, still smiling.
“Well, we weren’t talking about me, now were we?”
She turns back to her search. I’m content to let the subject drop. Maybe it’s not the right time to ask.
“Why did he stop coming over?”
She doesn’t turn back around when she asks, which I’m grateful for. I don’t want to have to worry about my expression.
“Some of his family came to town. He’s busy with them.”
“Will he come back when they leave?”
“I don’t know,” I hedge, hating to lie to my daughter. Although I can’t be absolutely positively certain that he won’t. So it’s not really a lie.
“Do you want him to?”
“Yes.” My answer is reflexive. I want him to more than anything. But he can’t. And I can’t let him. That’s all that matters.
“When are you taking me to see Santa?” she asks, giving me a way out of this suddenly uncomfortable subject.
“How about tonight? Jordan said he’d be at Bailey’s all week.”
Within seconds, Emmy is up on her feet, dancing her way over to where I sit in the chair. She throws her body against mine, winding her arms around my neck and squeezing as hard as she can. “You’re the best momma in the world!”
“Only because you’re the best daughter in the world,” I reply, pressing my face into her shampoo-scented hair.
Emmy pulls back enough to look at me, her nose less than two inches from mine. “I’m glad I’m not the only one that makes you happy anymore. That made me worry.”
That made her worry?
She’s so mature for her age sometimes that it makes me worry.
“You don’t ever need to worry about me, babydoll. Ever.”
She nods and smiles, but I can tell my words don’t affect her at all. Whatever the reason she’s been so focused on my happiness lately is still plaguing her. I can see it in the sad way she watches me.
“I love you, Emmaline,” I whisper, rubbing my nose against hers.
“Love you, too, Momma.” She hops off my lap as quickly as she hopped on. “When can we leave?”
“How about right after supper? I’ll call Jordan just to make sure he’ll be there.”
She bounces and twirls away, singing something about seeing Santa Claus and getting all her wishes this year. Hopefully at least one of us will get all her wishes this year. I’m pretty sure mine are too far gone.
????
Emmy wanted to stand in line by herself, just her and the other kids. She isn’t sucking her thumb, but of course she hasn’t said a word to anyone either.