We talked about our girls, and I told her about moving from Canada after she told me she moved from the West Coast two years before. It felt good to just sit there and talk while Willa played. I didn’t have any friends in the area yet, aside from Darren if he even counted. I missed my sister so much and hoped meeting other moms and having the chance to socialize would help the lonely, homesick feeling that kept creeping into my mind.
We stayed at the park for several hours. It was longer than I expected Willa to last, but she was enjoying her new little friend and just kept playing, so Katie and I just kept talking. When both little girls started to fade, we scooped them up, exchanged numbers, made plans to meet back up at the park again soon, and went our separate ways. By the time we got home, Willa was asleep in my arms, and I carried her right into her room to lay her down for a nap.
She’d had snacks at the park, and I’d snagged a couple of handfuls of Goldfish crackers and a pouch of applesauce from the abundant assortment I always brought with us. But it wasn’t enough to really count as lunch, so I went into the kitchen to make something to eat. As I put together a sandwich, I thought about how nice it was to talk to another adult. Back home I spent time with my sister and other family, I had friends who would come by and hang out and had taken a few Mommy and Me classes with Willa. Not having any of that here was making my world feel very narrow and my life very quiet. Oddly enough, it didn’t really bother me all that much. I enjoyed being home with Willa and didn’t really feel a lot of compulsion to go out.
But I knew I should. I didn’t want to become a recluse who didn’t do anything or have anyone in my life other than my child. Opening up to more people and really experiencing my new surroundings would make it feel more like home and give me more of a chance to pursue the new life I came here to find. That thought led me to grabbing my phone and calling the babysitter. It was last-minute, but she was available and more than happy to come over for a few hours to watch Willa so I could go out. I figured I deserved a night out on the town to celebrate getting my new job.
After eating lunch, I spent the rest of the day catching up on tasks around the apartment. There were still a few boxes I hadn’t unpacked, and I was quickly realizing there wasn’t enough space to fit everything I thought I could. I was either going to have to do a purge and donate to local charities, or all the extra stuff was going to need to get boxed up and put in storage somewhere. The one small storage closet out on the patio probably wasn’t going to be enough.
When Willa woke up, she promptly went to work taking care of her baby doll. She played with her with the same intent concentration as she dug in the sand. That was part of the little personality I was discovering more of each day. Her focus and concentration were intense, sometimes almost to the point of her ignoring everything else around her. Right now, her focus was on making sure her baby doll had its bottle and was wrapped up tightly enough in its little pink blanket. She soothed the doll, patting it lovingly as she rocked back and forth with the doll cradled in her arms.
It brought tears to my eyes watching her. For such a little girl, there was so much life and love in her.
After her bath, the babysitter arrived, and I went into my room to get ready to go out. I didn’t find many opportunities to get dressed up anymore, so I relished the chance to put on heels, add a little extra makeup, and curl my hair. It was just little touches, but it gave me a boost and made me look forward even more to the night out. I kissed Willa’s head and assured Flora that she’s probably go down soon since she had a full belly.
Without much familiarity with what else was around the area, I ended up at the same bar. I sat down and realized it was the same stool I’d chosen on Darren’s birthday. Maybe that meant I was becoming a regular. I was only there for a few moments when the bartender came up with the same beer I drank the last two times I was there.
“Good memory,” I said.