Embracing You, Embracing Me (17 page)

“Yeah, she and your aunt both said it was
cool.”

I took in the information then let out a
shriek and grabbed Sabrina by the shoulders. We danced around the front yard
like a pair of fools. “Oh my, god! This is so cool!” I paused in the middle of
spinning around. “Hey, won’t your mom be mad?”

Sabrina gave me an incredulous look. “What!
Are you crazy? Ever since I graduated she has been wondering when the heck I
was going to move out. She knows that I have been saving up and counting down
to the days when I would finally do it. When I told her, she just shrugged and
told me to make sure that I called her every Sunday.” We resumed our silly
dancing, gregarious, young, the world opening up before us. I stopped again, my
face serious, “I guess that we’re finally getting out of this pathetic town,
huh?”

Sabrina gave a cunning smile. “You bet your
sweet ass!”

Nearly three years had passed since I moved
out of that dusty little town. Those three years felt like a lifetime. I was
driving an old white Jetta, going south on Interstate-5 heading straight back,
with Pearl Jam vibrating out of the static-filled radio station.

Amber and I had kept our promise, making a
valiant effort to keep in touch even though there were times when life got the
better of us. Eventually one would discover that months had gone by without
contact and would call the other.

I took advantage of having a fresh start
and made many new friends. I enjoyed my senior year with Rosie and Sabrina by
my side.

Sabrina kept busy most of the time, working
in the deli down the road, and hanging out with her boyfriend in her spare
time. Within the first few months after moving to Washington, she met one of my
new classmates and they were practically inseparable from day one. It was the
first time I had seen Sabrina so smitten with a guy and it was awesome to watch
their love develop.

After that first year, they married and he
joined the military. They relocated to Germany as soon as he finished his basic
training. Rosie and I were crushed to see our friend move so far away, but were
supportive and happy to know Sabrina had fallen in love with someone we were
confident would take good care of her.

During spring break that first year, Amber
managed to make it up for a visit. I enjoyed introducing her to my new life.
Rosie and I made it our mission to keep her busy, taking her to a few local
parties, making the best of our short time together. Amber seemed a bit
reserved toward me and I knew it was left-over resentment about the way I moved
away. I couldn’t really blame her but couldn’t and wouldn’t have changed it. We
still managed to connect as we always had, laughing and staying up all hours of
the night.

Unfortunately the week passed too quickly
and Amber had to head back home. She said that she was sad to go, but was glad
she’d had the opportunity to see how happy I was with the move.

I gave her a hug before she slid into the
car and fought the desperate urge to ask about Gabriel. I kept quiet, bit down
on curiosity, and let her go. I figured that I had given up any right to care
how he handled his affairs. I didn’t want anyone to know how much I still
missed him. It had been my choice to push him away and I needed to live with
that decision without looking back. But I did look back. Every day.

Since that visit, another two years had
passed with only a few phone calls to close the distance. Amber was living
alone in her mom’s old place and in the light of some recent events had invited
me to stay with her for the first few weeks of summer.

I glanced in my rear-view mirror at the
round-faced cherub, sleeping in her car seat, with light brown curly locks
springing out from her head. My heart squeezed with love as I gazed upon my
precious one-year-old child.

So much had happened since the last time I
had seen Amber. At the end of my senior year I started dating a guy on the
basketball team named Graham Hutton. He was quiet and shy and I was taken by
how much he lathered me with attention, seeming to adore me.

He was fun, he was devoted, and I sank into
the ease of the relationship, rather than following my typical pattern of
fleeing from commitment. It didn’t occur to me until later, until it was too
late, that I had married him for all the wrong reasons.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care about him, I
did. What I hadn’t been aware of at the time was that I had been unconsciously
trying to prove to myself that I could have a productive, committed
relationship and break the patterns that I had grown up with.

I was desperate to create the life that I
had always imagined as a young girl. Unfortunately, I tried to prove that point
by marrying someone who felt safe, rather than someone who made me feel the
fire and desperate longing that I had felt in the past. It wasn’t until later,
that I would realize how important having that fire was.

We married four days after the Christmas
following graduation, and had a tiny baby girl eight months later. Most people
would question the motive of marrying so young once they did the math on baby
Marissa’s birth date, but it was just the way things had worked out.

Looking back, I could see why I had jumped
into marriage so quickly. I’d always wanted to have a family of my own and be a
devoted mother. Once Marissa was born all my mothering instincts came on full
force, blinding me with their fierce need to provide and protect. I instantly
fell in love with my daughter.
This is what I was born to do
, I thought
many times as I swaddled and comforted her in the wee hours of the morning.

Unfortunately, the marriage wasn’t going
nearly as well. It only took about six months before the fighting became too
much for the both of us and we started throwing around the word divorce.

The main issue was that I was desperately
trying to get us to some modicum of financial stability, determined to provide
a solid home environment for our child. Graham was sweet, but refused to grow
up, so we weren’t making much progress and were barely getting by at times.

It took weeks of me hounding him before he
finally decided to look for work. I was hopeful when he landed a job, but
quickly became frustrated when he made a habit of calling in, skipping out on
work at any opportunity he could.

After a few months of that frustrating
routine, I started acting out my frustrations. I went out drinking with my
girlfriends while I left Marissa with Graham. I reasoned that there was no harm
being done: I was with my daughter all day and then her father was with her in
the evenings, so she was properly taken care of.

It wasn’t until I found myself in a
precarious predicament where I was dependent on others to give me a ride home
and wound up stumbling up my front stairs, still half drunk at nine o’clock the
next morning that I was forced to admit I was not handling my problems the
right way.

That afternoon, Graham and I had an
argument that ended with an ultimatum. Either he shape up or ship out. I was
done playing house. This was real and we both needed to be more responsible. I
was adamant about providing Marissa with a better, more solid childhood than I
had had. When I realized that I was slowly heading down that same road of bad
choices and messy consequences, my determination to change the situation
solidified. I knew that fighting in front of our baby was just one of the many
ways I was repeating my own past and perpetuating familiar mistakes.

The first step was admitting that I didn’t
really love my husband the way a wife should. I cared for him a great deal, as
he was the father of our child, but we had slowly developed a pattern of
interacting that was disturbingly similar to a parent-child relationship. I was
constantly nagging him to do simple chores and responsibilities that I felt I
shouldn’t have to press him to do.

I began to resent the fact that I had
become the stereotypical nagging housewife and started to slowly close off to
him. It was impossible to fight off the underlying feeling that if I could just
love him the way I still loved Gabriel, I would be willing to work things out.
But the fact was that I had never stopped loving him long enough to allow love
for Graham.

Over the next few months the fighting died
down to a low grumble but the space that separated the two of us became too
vast of a canyon to reach across. In the matter of just a year and a half we
had come to the point of no return in the relationship and I was ashamed at my
failure. Ironic as it was, I had jumped head first into the exact pattern that
I had been so hell bent on avoiding.

Nevertheless, I filled out divorce papers
and it was just a matter of waiting out the ninety day period until the court
date, when everything would be finalized.

Amber called one evening not long after I
filed and invited me to spend a few weeks with her while I waited for the
divorce hearing.

There I was, speeding down the highway with
a warm summer breeze blowing through my hair, thinking that I should be home
looking for work instead of driving to Oregon. I pushed those doubts aside,
remembering to focus on my newfound freedom and looked forward to spending
quieter moments with one of my best friends.

I would enjoy being carefree for a few
weeks before I had to buckle down and make a new life for myself and my
daughter. I had a hard road ahead when I got back. Being a single mother wasn’t
going to be easy.

Rosie and I had agreed to find an apartment
together at the end of summer, and I would need to get cracking on the job
hunting as soon as I returned from Oregon.

Sighing, I once again pushed my troubling thoughts
to the back of my mind making a silent promise to focus on only today.
Tomorrow, I would do the same.

The first few days at Amber’s house were
just what the doctor had ordered. I hadn’t realized how much I needed simple
rest and relaxation. Amber and I lost precious sleep as we stayed up late
catching up on the past few years and gossiping about how a few of our old
classmates had turned out.

Amber still had horses to take care of and
worked for a large stable down the road. She would say goodnight around midnight
in order to get up at what she called “the butt crack of dawn.”

Marissa usually slept through the night in
the playpen I’d set up next to the guest bed where I slept. She would play
quietly with her new baby doll each morning, babbling and drooling as she
teethed on her blanket and dollie. Waking up around eight or nine, I was
shocked that I had slept in so long. I hadn’t slept like that since before I
was pregnant.  

I enjoyed the simple morning routine as I
prepared for the day. After breakfast I took Marissa outside and walked her
down to the lower field so that we could see the horses. Her delight filled the
air as she squealed and clapped her chubby little hands, so thrilled with the
big creatures.  

Then we would walk back up to the house,
and lounge around in the front yard with the dogs while Marissa talked to them
in her own little baby language, as if they were her long lost friends. As soon
as lunchtime was over, I put Marissa down for a nap then retreated to the front
porch where I would sit peacefully, enjoying the sing-song of the birds, and
the vision of the rolling countryside spread out before me.  

The first few days of the laid back routine
were much needed but I was normally such a busy-body that by the fourth day I
started to get twitchy. Typically, I was the type that never sat down, always
cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, running errands, whatever it took to keep
from being idle. It seemed that I was trying so hard not to be like my mom that
I worked all day until I would fall in to bed at night.

The sudden change of pace was glorious at
first but soon I was scrubbing Amber’s kitchen and sweeping the front porch in
order to satisfy my persistent need to feel productive.  

Amber worked a particularly long shift that
day and it was nearing dinner time when she stepped into the kitchen. 

She leaned against the doorway. “Hey, Miss
Suzie Homemaker, we need to get you out of the house.”

I glanced over my shoulder with a wry
smile. “Aren’t you supposed to say ‘Honey I’m home’” I teased.  

Amber sat on the floor and started banging
on the pots and pans with Marissa. “I’d sing too kid, but unfortunately I don’t
sing much better than your momma.”

“Hey, I’m right here you know. Besides I
sing to her all the time and she likes it!” I defended. “In a couple of years
she will soon realize that her mom couldn’t hit a note to save her life, but
for now she thinks that I rock! So buzz off!”

Amber chuckled; we had always teased each
other about our lousy singing voices. Neither one of us could carry a tune, but
it never once had stopped us from belting out our favorite songs while driving
down the road or anywhere that good music was playing.  

“Well I was actually serious when I said we
needed to get you out of the house. I have the next three days off so we should
do something fun.” She leaned back against the refrigerator as she spoke.

I rose up on my tip toes, reaching into the
cupboards for the ceramic bowls. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”