But I didn’t want to get into an argument or create tension, especially not on a Tuesday morning while I was still in my sweats and needing to make breakfast for my daughter. “Have a great day, Leo,” I said instead, feeling that was maybe a bit harsh but also noncommittal enough, and I went back inside.
…where my daughter was coloring the walls of her bedroom with her crayons.
A mother’s work was truly never done.
“Fern, honey.” I took one of the crayons out of her hands. “What did we talk about? Crayons are for drawing in books, not on the walls. C’mere and we’ll use your coloring books while Mama does her work, okay?”
Fern pouted at me. “But I want my room colorful.”
“We can make it colorful in other ways.” I would have loved to have the money to paint her room whatever she wanted it, even if that meant in bright rainbow colors, but paint was surprisingly expensive so that wasn’t going to be in the cards for a while. I made enough off my work for us to get by, and I wasn’t too worried about paying the bills, but we couldn’t afford a lot of extra things, either.
It could’ve been a lot worse, I kept telling myself. Jenn helped—she was a trust fund baby who didn’t have to work a day in her life if she didn’t want to, and I knew that she was the one who kept slipping cash into my cookie jar where I kept my spare change, but every time I tried to call her out on it she’d deny it and refuse to take the cash back. And my parents would help out sometimes too, sending me a check and telling me it was for their granddaughter and not to worry about it.
Fern settled next to me on the couch. “You do your work,” I told her, “and I’ll do mine. Sound fun?”
Fern grinned at me and nodded, settling down happily with her coloring, and I got to work on my coding. Thank God I could work from home. Every moment I wasn’t focused on my daughter felt oddly like I was cheating, like I was doing this parenting thing wrong, but I had to pay the bills and I genuinely enjoyed my work with computers.
I tended to get absorbed in my work, and thank God for that today—I needed the distraction from thinking about Cal. He hadn’t called or made any contact since Sunday, and on the one hand I couldn’t blame him but on the other hand it felt like he was proving me right, justifying my fears that he wouldn’t really be there for Fern in the long run.
Or for you, my traitorous mind whispered.
I shoved that thought away. Cal clearly wasn’t here for me, even with the amazing sex. He was here for Fern and Fern alone.
I let work suck me in, and when I finally looked up, it was to find hours had passed and Fern passed out on the couch.
Too old for naps my ass, I thought fondly. I stood up, stretching, and grinned helplessly at my daughter. I might have snapped a photo with my phone but if so, what of it? I had to record all that I could. Soon she’d be too old for naps and crayons.
I got some sandwiches ready before I woke up Fern to stage off any post-nap hungry grumpiness. “Time for lunch!” I sang. “Munchies for little monsters!”
Fern stirred, rubbing at her eyes. “Mama?”
“Over here, bugaboo, come have lunch!”
Fern walked over, still a little wobbly on her feet from sleep. “I had a dream.”
“Ooh, I love dreams, tell me about it.”
“It was about a puppy. He was so sad and alone and he needed a new home.”
I laughed. “I was born at night, bugaboo, not last night. We’re not getting a puppy.”
Maybe if I had a partner, a spouse, who could help take care of the puppy… Fern with a puppy would be adorable. But I couldn’t afford one and having a puppy in this duplex wasn’t the best idea, and again, I didn’t have time to take care of one. Maybe when Fern was older, if I could afford it—then she could help take care of the dog too.
Ah, well. It was another ‘maybe’ to add to the list of things I wanted to give her.
“I’m not gonna give up,” Fern vowed, her face scrunched up with solemnity.
“Good girl, don’t ever give up on your dreams.” Unless they involved having feelings for a man and hoping he would return them.
Before I could go into the “but no means no and you need to respect that” part, my phone buzzed. My heart leapt, and I immediately mentally cursed myself for it. It wouldn’t be Cal and I shouldn’t let myself hope that it was.