“It’s not you who has to apologize, Michael. It’s Dorothy. But it doesn’t sound like she will. Either way, it’s not your problem,” I said.
“Come on, Hailey. Let’s get going,” Bryan said.
I hugged Michael's neck one last time before I made my way to the car. The ride was silent, and I could tell Bryan was fuming. I simply could not believe what Dorothy had said to me. Taking my child away from me? Did she really think I was that terrible of a person? I was going to love this child with everything I had. I was reading every single parenting book I could get my hands on. I was asking women for advice and trying to figure out whether I wanted to use cloth diapers, to breastfeed or use formula, to use daycare or work from home. I was already trying to be the best mother I could be, and I hadn't even given birth yet.
I just didn't know what had caused her to turn on me like she had.
We pulled up to the house, and I slammed out of the car. I stopped at the door and unlocked it, shoving my way into the house. Without shutting the door behind me, I shed my clothes and made my way upstairs, not caring about the mess I was leaving behind. I was upset, I was still dirty, even though I have taken a shower before we left for dinner, and I wanted to be left alone.
But before I could even start the water running for my bath, I heard a knock on the door behind me.
“Can I get you anything?” Bryan asked. “You didn’t eat much at dinner.”
“Not very hungry,” I said as I turned on the water.
“You know I’ll always stand by you, right?” he asked.
“I know.”
“No matter what.”
“I get it,” I said.
“Do you want to talk?” he asked.
“No, Bryan. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to talk about the fact that your mother only wants to be a part of things if she can control them. I don’t want to talk about the fact that my budding relationship with your father makes me want my father around too. I don't want to talk about the fact that our child will never have stable relationship with their grandparents, and I certainly don’t want to talk about how I wish I could throw your mother into a flaming volcano.”
“Does it have to be flaming?” Bryan asked.
I allowed a giggle to slip through my lips as I stepped into the warm water of the bath.
“Look, our child is going to have us. And who knows what’ll happen with your parents in the next year or two? You guys are still talking even though they haven’t come to visit yet. Maybe you just need to build up that bond with them again.”
“I guess,” I said.
“Maybe they want to give you time to digest the fact that they’re back in your life. They were here a lot when you were battling cancer. Maybe they want to give you some distance.”
“But I’m pregnant. And there are just times where I want my mom,” I said.
“Have you told her that?” Bryan asked.
“No,” I said.
“Then how can you expect them to know that?”
“Because she’s my mother. Isn’t that what happens? Mothers read their daughters’ minds or something?” I asked.
“No,” Bryan said, chuckling. “That’s not how it works. Ever.”
“How would you know? You’re not a girl.”
“By the same principle, fathers should be able to read their sons’ minds.”
“Nope, not how that works.”
“And why not?” he asked.
“Because men are stupid.”