Page 42 of Even After This
Yanking the glasses off, I grab her hand. “Sally, listen to me. This is my last day here, and if you learn nothing else, promise me this one thing will stick.” The left-turn arrow cycles, giving me a few more seconds. “When Toby poops all over his room and Layla is getting her two-year molars and you’ve absolutely had it with life. When the dog days of motherhood hit and you aren’t sure why you chose to do this, or if you can even pull off this gig. When you can’t fill anyone else’s needy requests one second longer because you are on fumes. That.Thatmoment. Are you with me?”
“Yeeeeeesssssssssss.” She leans in and clutches my hand tighter.
“Leave the house. Farm your kids out to the closest human being. Get in your car and push play on this song.” I thrust my pointer finger at the radio. “And just start driving.”
The light turns green. I rev the engine and peel out while Sally shouts a woo-hoo.
“L-o-u-d loud music, Sally. You spend your days watching gentle cartoons and listening to the Playgroundigans.”
She leans out the window so everyone within ten feet of our car gets wind of her battle cry. “I hate the Playgroundigans!”
“Motherhood is a thousand series of just a few minutes that have the potential to make or break you. So if you need this four-minute, thirty-seven-second song to deal with life, you take it.” Our bodies rock forward as I shift gears.
“You remember how long the song is.” With a grin on her face, she shoves my shoulder. “Amazing.”
I used to listen to five different songs for this purpose. The washed-out-mommy vibes were always forgotten within the first thirty seconds of the Rush selection.
As I laugh with Sally, my heart seizes at the thought of saying goodbye to my new friends, their celebrity status not so glaring.But our worlds will never cross. What would I say? Let’s carpool to the Academy Awards?
I dipped my toe into the waters of normal life. I met new people. Hung out with children. Found small pieces of usefulness. Shared a few sweet moments with a man. And now, maybe, I’ll go home and wade a little further into the pool.
I wish I could bring these lovely people with me.
But maybe this path doesn’t have to end here.
Maneuvering us to a parking place, I take an overly dramatic breath. As I pull the brake, I shift my body toward her. “Sally, you are in the battle. You are a mother of two small children, trying to survive each day. And today, we arm you with more weapons.”
Sally’s eyes follow to where my hand points, and she gapes.
The mecca of motherhood, All Things Baby Mart.
Her face shifts to a smile and she shakes her head. “I haven’t come here since I registered for shower gifts.”
“Also, you’ve never been here with me, which I think you’ll find is a game changer.” I snag my purse and exit the Jeep. “Come on. Let’s go make your life easier.”
After I grab a cart, I throw my purse in the kid seat. My phone dings to call my attention to a new voicemail. I must not have heard the ringer over our rebel mom music mix. I sift through my purse contents. Once I find my cell, I cringe.
Stanley.
Okay, I’m officially weirded out by how persistent he’s being over “just wanting to catch up.” Typically, we talk once a month. Maybe twice. I don’t know what to make of this week’s calls.
Sally and I enter the store, and we’re greeted by a mommy-and-me clothing display. The matching Wonder Woman T-shirt and little-girl dress are perfect for Sally and Layla, and I throw them in our cart.
“Has anyone told you that you’re a dead ringer for Wonder Woman?” I ask.
“Oh.” Her face turns red. “Spence thought I should’ve auditioned for the role, but I don’t act.”
Conversations like these, where no one is joking, never cease to blow my mind. “You resemble her even after having two kids. Which I hate you for in the most loving way possible.”
While throwing her head back and laughing, Sally takes over the cart and pushes forward. “Shut up.”
I crane my neck and glance at the overhead signs to get my bearings. “Hold up there, Lynda Carter.”
She pulls the cart to a stop.
“Okay.” Grabbing her shoulders, I narrow my eyes. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to say the first thing that comes to mind without censoring.”
Sally squares her body to me, fists on her hips. “I’m ready.”
