Chapter 18
By winter, I had enough steady orders to rent a worktable in a shared studio one afternoon a week.
It wasn't a fortune.
It paid for itself, contributed to our savings, and gave me something that belonged to the future instead of the divorce.
Mom checked my books once a month.
She insisted I learn the system well enough to manage without her.
“You should be able to take a vacation,” I told her.
“So should you.”
We were working on both.
For Lucy's birthday, we planned a small party at Mom's house.
Garrett was coming during an agreed visit.
We had learned to use the parenting app for schedules and expenses. It gave us a place to talk about Lucy without reopening every conversation we'd ever had.
That morning, he sent a separate message.
I wish I could change that night.
I read it while Lucy dropped pieces of strawberry onto her tray.
There had been a time when those words would have kept me awake for hours.
Now I checked the party schedule and answered through the app.
Please arrive at eleven as planned.
He did.
He brought a book and a small wooden toy, washed his hands, and sat on the rug with Lucy.
I wanted her to have good moments with her father.
I could want that without giving him back the life he had broken.
Doreen had sent a birthday card.
She had also sent a note saying she hoped we could put the past behind us.
I thanked her for the card.
I didn't answer the rest.
She could arrange a visit when we were ready to discuss what had happened honestly. Lucy's birthday didn't require me to make that conversation disappear.
Ruth arrived just before lunch.
I had sent a letter to the hospital after my recovery, thanking her and the staff. Months later, after she replied, we began talking occasionally.
When I invited her to the party, I told her there would be sandwiches and a very small cake.
“I can manage both,” she said.
Now she stood in Mom's doorway holding a wrapped book.
Lucy stared at her, then reached toward the shiny paper.
“She knows what's important,” Ruth said.
Mom took the gift while I hugged her.
For a moment, I could remember the pressure of her hand against mine in the delivery room.
Then Lucy pulled at my collar, impatient to get down.