Once we were two houses closer, and most of the kids had dispersed, so no one was near, I asked, “Was everything okay?”
“I think he broke up with his girlfriend.”
Hmm.
“Did you like her?” I asked.
She lifted a shoulder, no other response.
Mm-hmm.
That was the way she’d learned how to play it. She didn’t get too close in case they were taken away.
Stupid Corbin.
“You hungry?” I changed our subject.
The light came back to her face, she looked up at me and nodded.
We got in, she went upstairs to dump her bag, and I was in the kitchen, making myself some tea as an excuse to be around her when she tackled the fridge or the pantry for an after-school snack, when I heard the house phone ring.
I wasn’t a fan of that because it meant someone who couldn’t get ahold of me on my mobile needed to get ahold of me, so they went landline and that could mean urgency or emergency.
I had both of those going on in my life, so when I moved to the cordless handset, I focused on the fact it made me feel very retro since no one had them anymore, instead of what calamity might need to be communicated to me as I took the call.
“Hello?”
“Pepper, you’re not answering your cell,” my sister said.
“Is everything okay?” I asked quickly.
“You wanted time with Mom?” she asked back dryly.
“Right.” I moved out of the living room to have a view to the hall in order to give myself warning Juno was going to show. “Juno’s home and I haven’t had the time to discu—”
“Tomorrow. Noon. Dad has a lunch meeting. Come to the church. I’ll meet you at the front door.”
“Oh, um…all right.”
“All right. See you then.”
And she hung up.
I stared at the buzzing phone, feeling weird.
Because she was all business.
It wasn’t unfriendly, exactly. It wasn’t sarcastic, frustrated or impatient, as such.
What it was, was that she was ticking me off a to-do list.
And another part of my long meditation (and, I’ll add, journaling session) came back to me.
Because I’d shared with Auggie that I did not cut my family out of my life because I loved them.
But after meeting his folks, seeing the effect they had on him, I felt the need to reconsider my decision not to do that.
I loved them, but I didn’t think they were good for Juno. I wondered if there was some strain on her about them. And if (no, it was, sadly, when) we lost Mom, I had to seriously consider staying tied to them.
Saffron was never the fun aunt. Or the loving one. Or the supportive one.
In truth, they barely had any relationship at all.
Dad seemed to suffer Juno’s existence. He wasn’t cruel to her (she’d never be around him if that was the case, obviously). He didn’t say ugly things to her (ditto with the never being around him). He also wasn’t affectionate or grandfather-y. He would smile at her, listen to her, and once in a while, his face would get soft. But mostly, it was tolerance. Subtle, but my daughter was not stupid. She probably felt it.
It was Mom that lit up (as much as she’d allow herself to do so) when Juno was around.
I had brothers and sisters I had never met.
I had another one I didn’t want my daughter to meet.
And it was true, to be the better person, it was up to me to make the effort, and take the hits that might come from attempting to be a part of these people’s lives.
But what was that giving me?
What was it giving Juno?
It didn’t nurture either of us or enrich our lives.
We couldn’t feel the loss of something we never really had.
Could we?
“Mom, who was on the phone?” Juno asked, making me jolt and taking me from my thoughts.
“Your auntie Saffron,” I told her.
She made a scrunch face.
Uh…
Yeah.
Not nurturing or enriching.
“Get your snack, Dollface,” I encouraged as I put the phone back in its base. “Because we have an errand we have to run before dinner.”
She bounced into the kitchen, her ponytail swaying, and I took heart in that.
She could kinda do her hair, but she still wasn’t great at it.
Corbin was. Obviously, he’d had to learn along the way, and when we were together and I’d thought we were solid, I’d also thought it was all kinds of cute how he’d brush her hair and put barrettes in it or pigtails, or when she got older, whatever she asked for.
He still did it now.
She had cute clothes at his house. Alice bands. Hair stuff.
He was mostly a dick.
But it had to be said, he loved his daughter.
I drew in a cleansing breath at that thought, and Juno climbed onto a stool at the island with some hummus and baby carrots, asking, “What errand?”
I went to the electric kettle, having decided how to share this, which was casually, in case me and Auggie got it wrong. Then I could play it as he was just a friend coming over, and later, discuss how to proceed with Auggie.