“Good luck.”
I hang up the phone and sigh. At least my boss is understanding. I meant to call him yesterday but, when I went to do so, it completely slipped my mind when I finally looked at the message waiting for me. It was from Kyle, asking me if I was running late for painting, something I had completely forgotten about after everything else. I’d sent him a message back, apologizing and saying something had come up and I’d explain later.
Now it’s Monday. I’ve got the day off work, Georgia got the day off from her boss too, though she refused to say what she told him to swing that, and now I’m just waiting for both her and Polly to arrive. Which, of course, won’t be for another few hours, because it’s seven o’clock in the morning and Lily is only now stirring to get ready for school.
I tried my hardest to sleep last night. But I couldn’t close my eyes, no matter what I did. The thought that Polly would arrive here, in the home that I had built with Lily on my own after she left, kept spinning around my head. My mouth had been so dry and that I ended up taking a bottle of water to bed and getting up several times to refill it. Finally, at around two in the morning, I fell into an uneasy sleep, only to wake up around twenty minutes ago, remembering that I hadn’t yet told my boss I needed the day off work. Thank god that Greg is understanding.
There’s no point staying in bed, so I get dressed and wander toward the kitchen, knocking on Lily’s door on the way to make sure she’s getting up, and not curling up to go back to sleep.
“I’m up,” she calls sleepily.
“Don’t fall asleep,” I warn. “Or you’ll be going to school in your pajamas.”
“Okay.”
When I get to the kitchen, I flick the kettle on. Then I look around. I try to imagine Polly being here, sitting at my table and drinking from my cups. But I just can’t imagine it at all. There’s no way she should be here.
Damn, already off to a bad start.
Lily wanders into the kitchen, yawning. She’s tied a ribbon in her hair, but poorly, so I roll my eyes and go over to redo her ponytail, making her beam at me. I had to fast become a master of doing a little girl’s hair many years ago. I’m proud to say that I went from sloppy ponytails to braids, buns and, on occasion, pigtails.
“Morning, Dad,” she says.
“Good morning,” I say. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“I’ll have cereal,” she responds, heading over to the cupboard. Then she pauses, frowning at me. “Are you staying home?”
“Why do you ask?” I’m startled by her question.
“You’re not in work clothes,” she points out.
I look down at my attire. Normally, when I got to work, I go in flannel or polo shirts, heavy boots and thick pants. Today, though, I’m wearing a button-up shirt and a pair of jeans. Definitely not work attire.
“I have an important meeting today,” I say. I hesitate then sigh. I don’t want to keep secrets from Lily. “With your mother. We decided we needed to talk before she meets you.”
“Really?” Lily asks, stars in her eyes.
I wonder what she’s thinking. I really hope she’s not entertaining any ideas about her mother and I ever getting back together. She’ll be sorely disappointed, if she is. Thankfully, this is something I can nip in the bud straight away, as hard as it will be.
“There’s something you need to know about your mom, Lily,” I say gently. “She got married again three years ago. So, at some point, she might want you to meet her husband.”
Lily’s face falls It seems there was part of her that hoped Polly and I could work things out. Lily has wanted a mother for a very long time; she often teases me about finding one for her, but I can hear the desperate hope under the jokes. For her, Polly returning is likely a dream come true; it’s an easy solution to the problem.
But, unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way. Polly is married and, even if she wasn’t, it was never something that would happen. Lily, young as she is, and sheltered from the worst aspects of Polly’s abandonment, probably doesn’t quite understand that I’ll never forgive or trust my ex-wife again. And that, even if we can have an amicable relationship, it’ll never go beyond casual acquaintances.
But that’s far too much to try and ask a ten-year-old to comprehend, intelligent as she is. For now, I’ll dash her dreams so that she doesn’t get hurt next week when she sees Polly’s ring, or sometime in the future when Polly will inevitably ask for Lily to meet her husband.
“Oh,” Lily says in a small voice. “I see.”
I sigh and kneel down, opening
my arms. Lily rushes into them, clinging to my shirt, but I don’t care that it’s getting wrinkled.
“Sorry, Lils,” I say into her hair. “But, hey, it’s pretty cool that you’ll get to meet your mom anyway, right? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her, too, so we can both get to know her.”
“Yeah,” Lily says in a wobbly voice. “I just wanted…”
Lily wants a mother so very badly. A mother who will live with us and help us look after the house and love us both. Polly, who is married and will only visit occasionally, won’t be enough, even though she’s Lily’s mother by blood. Even Georgia isn’t quite enough, because she, too, goes home at the end of the day, though she’s certainly closer to the role than Polly is.