The Trouble With Before (8 page)

Her eyes widen, shooting knives through me. “You should have stayed in California. There’s
nothing
for you here.”

“Gee, thanks,
Mom
, it’s great to see you too,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster.

She rolls her eyes before making her dramatic exit, complete with slamming my bedroom door. I take a deep breath. Things could be worse; she could have trashed my room or rented it out. That wasn’t the worst conversation for two people who haven’t spoken to one another in almost two years. I can’t lie and say that she hasn’t attempted to talk to me, but I guess my broken mother didn’t fit into what I thought would be my perfect new life.

I sit on my old bed, which I moved here from my last apartment, the first one I was able to call my own. I remember the day I signed that lease after landing my first job at Madison Elementary. When I was younger, I never dreamed of being a teacher. I always liked kids, but being their teacher, shaping them into the people they would become, was scary. I wasn’t even the person I wanted to become. I always felt like a sham or a fraud. But when I was in college and it came time to declare a major, I was too chicken to be an English major, so I picked the next best thing. I chose the profession of the person who had inspired me and made me feel as though I could do anything I wanted, the man I thought I was in love with, the man I had my own child with, the man who had caused the destruction of every meaningful relationship I’d ever had. Now I’m back in town with him, his wife, and our child . . . and a former best friend who hates me.

When Aidan left that day, I felt as though I had been punched in the gut. I knew when I told him I was pregnant, it wasn’t going to go over that well. I knew he wasn’t going to pat me on the back and say congratulations, or baby me and tell me everything would be okay. I just thought that he could somehow save me.

That was when I realized that I had been looking for a man to save me my whole life. When I was younger and Evie would come in drunk with guys who would be scary to a grown-up, let alone a little girl, I always hoped my dad would come back and save me. When I was a teenager, I thought William would save me, and after the fall-out of my really bad decisions, I let Brett save me. Somewhere inside me, I hoped that this baby would save me, that it would solidify what Brett and I had, because without him, who was I?

A girl who had betrayed her best friend by sleeping with his father, a girl who had told her daughter for years she was really her cousin and abandoned her.

Brett had reminded me of who I was before all the mistakes were made. When I was a good friend, when I was loyal, when I had hope for things that didn’t seem possible for me, but I hoped for anyway. I know now that I wasn’t in love with Brett. I only loved the idea of being with him, and no one deserves to be someone’s warped fantasy or security blanket.

I take a deep breath and empty the suitcases from my short lived
perfect
life in California. In nine months, all I had accomplished was filling up three suitcases with designer labels. Brett loved to buy me expensive gifts. A Tory Burch poncho, a Gucci Satchel, a Louis Vuitton clutch, a Prada sweater—that’s all I’m left with. Well, not all. I touch my stomach and look down at it. No pudge yet.

The first time I was pregnant, at the beginning I never talked to her. Getting attached to someone I would be giving away didn’t make sense. Whenever someone asked me what I was having or how far along I was, I would cringe. It was a reminder of my shame, my hurt, the consequences of my stupid teenage actions. Now, I don’t have the stupid-teenager tag to hide behind. I’ve just been a stupid adult.

When I was pregnant the first time, I knew without a doubt that I would have it. Not necessarily because I was pro-life, but because somewhere within me, I always imagined that the baby would somehow, some way bring Will and me closer together. That even though what we had done was shameful, the baby would be the one beautiful, innocent thing that transpired between us. And that she was. The doctor said Willa was one of the most beautiful babies she’d ever seen. Willa didn’t come out looking like an alien or a gerbil, which is what most newborn babies looked like to me.

Her eyes were wide open, and she had thick blond curls, which Aunt Danni said had contributed to the terrible heartburn I’d had. She already had her father’s smile. For a moment, I forgot that she wasn’t going to be mine, that she was the product of infidelity. For a sliver of a second, I wanted her. I wanted to be a better person for her, to prove to myself that I wasn’t just Evie’s daughter and that I could be the mother I always wanted to be. That moment passed when Aunt Danni began to cry, took Willa out of my arms, and thanked me for giving her the most precious gift she’d ever had.

I don’t regret the decision I made. That second of yearning was just me being sentimental, and Aunt Danni was a fantastic mother to Willa. She was smart, wise, and selfless. She read to her at night, baked cookies with her every weekend once she was old enough, and took her to all the places that Evie never bothered to take me—like the zoo, the movies, and museums. They had mommy-and-daughter dates to get manis and pedis. Most of all, Aunt Danni taught Willa values through her words
and
actions.

Aunt Danni had been a pediatric nurse, educated, married, and full of love she was never able to give to children of her own. That’s why when Evie found out I was pregnant and mentioned giving my baby to Aunt Danni, for once, I didn’t scoff at her. It made perfect sense. Aunt Danni lived in a different state and I was a senior in high school finishing my last semester. The timing was perfect. I would deliver Willa before starting my freshman year of college. Everything lined up in a way that seemed cosmic. I didn’t have to even tell Will that I was pregnant. His family would be saved, and my reputation, or lack thereof, wouldn’t suffer.

Yet, every now and then, I think about what would have happened if I had changed my mind. If I’d decided to suffer the embarrassment and dealt with the consequences of keeping Willa. If I had accepted the responsibility and bit the bullet and been her mother. I wonder how different things would have been.

I’m back in the same town where my daughter lives with her dad and stepmom. Where my former friend who knows that I’m pregnant again is. I’m in a house with my mother, and when she does find out, she’s going to flip and tell me what an idiot I am. This time, I don’t have an aunt Danni to come save the day. There isn’t a town I can disappear to and come back from with a clean slate. After everything that’s happened, there is no clean slate.

I LET A
couple of hours go past before I leave my room. Evie’s car is no longer in the driveway. I shudder at the fact that she’s driving around in the state she’s in, but maybe she’s a functional drunk.

When I walked in, I wasn’t able to see the condition of the house, so I look around now. It’s actually pretty clean, much cleaner than when I lived with Evie. Her now-husband, Jack, must like a clean house. My mother adapts to whatever man she’s with, so even though I don’t know him well, I know he likes to drink and can’t exist in filth.

I head into the kitchen. There are a couple of dishes in the sink, but nothing major. I open the refrigerator. This looks more like the Evie I know. There’s only a half-empty carton of eggs, a takeout food container, and a case of beer. The takeout smells old, but I leave it in there since I don’t want to get into a petty argument about touching stuff that doesn’t belong to me.

I jump in my car and head down to our local grocery store. The parking lot is empty since they’re only open another hour. I snag a parking spot right in front of the store, then I grab a cart and head in. I stroll down the aisles, picking up some fruit, a carton of milk, and my favorite cereal.

“Leese!”

The squeal stops my heart and freezes me in place. It can’t be . . . but with my luck, I already know that it is. I slowly turn around and see Willa running toward me. She jumps into my arms. I pick her up, and she’s so light to be so much taller than she was the last time I saw her.

“What are you doing here?” she says, squeezing me tighter.

I look up and see
him,
and heat immediately rises in my face. The man who used to make my blood run hot, who sent shivers from my spine to my toes. My breath catches, and I remind myself to breathe. I clear my throat and see that my presence has had the opposite effect on him. He looks as if he’s seen a ghost walk right out of her grave. I look into the eyes I used to be in love with, the ones that match the little girl’s eyes looking up at me. Seeing them both in front of me is surreal.

“Hi, Willa,” I finally choke out.

I set her down and squat so we’re at eye level, and I focus on the excitement in her eyes rather than the sheer panic and terror in her dad’s. Of course I’d run into them here, since I have the worst luck ever.

“You look so beautiful,” I tell her, taking her in.

She’s eight now. She’s grown at least two inches since I last saw her, and her blond locks cascade over her shoulders. A pink headband matches her shirt and tennis shoes. She looks so happy to see me. I can’t help but notice how much she looks like me, and my stomach sinks—how much she looks like Evie. My chest tightens, but I hug her again.

“I missed you!” Her smile almost melts the shaking nerves inside me.

“I missed you too, Willa bear,” I say, hugging her back.

“You didn’t say she was coming!” she playfully scolds Will, who still seems shocked.

He’s gripping the shopping cart as if he’ll fall through the floor if he lets it go.

“Um, he didn’t know,” I tell her, trying to take the heat off of him.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” she asks, gripping my hand.

“I-I . . .” I’m completely speechless and absolutely stupefied. Why the hell did I not think about this scenario happening before I left the house? I’m not prepared for this. My eyes dart to Will’s, and I immediately look away.

“How long are you here, Lisa?” His voice is tense and full of bass that used to do things to me I’m trying to block out.

I run my hand through my hair. “I-I don’t know . . .”

“It would have been nice for you to call and say something.” His voice is tighter than the jeans I used to wear to get better tips at the bar. His eyes narrow on mine.

“It’s not like I have your number, Will,” I say in an irritated sing-songy voice.

“You have Gwen’s,” he says pointedly.

“Look, I didn’t exactly plan for this.”

“Are you staying at Aunt Evie’s?” Willa asks, oblivious to the tension between me and her dad.

“I am.”

“Ooh, can I come and play?” she asks, looking back at Will for permission.

“Um, I don’t know, sweetheart,” he tells her.

Her face falls, so she turns to me. “Pleeease? Ms. Red is gone to Lauren’s, and Dad doesn’t like to watch any of the princess movies I like.”

My heart stops when she calls him dad. I’ve missed a whole lot since I’ve been gone.

I immediately wonder what all he’s told her. Does she know who I am, or does she still think I’m the cool cousin? I feel as if I’ve been thrown into the deep end of the pool with no life jacket.

“We’ll see, honey, but we better get going,” he tells her.

“Why?” she whines.

I can see he’s uncomfortable. “I-I actually have to go, Willa, but I’m going to be here at least another week. We can work something out maybe.”

I give her a smile and her pout immediately disappears, seemingly satisfied with my answer. Will eyes me, his expression full of anger and confusion. Between us are thousands of questions that need to be answered but can’t be asked.

“You need to call me,” he says tightly.

As I walk past him, he grabs my arm and my stomach drops. He immediately lets me go when our eyes meet.

“Let me give you my number,” he mutters.

I clumsily pull out my phone and put in the number he tells me as Willa bounces around us.

“Got it,” I mutter, glancing at him.

Willa grabs my hand. “We’re going to get to play?” Her eyes twinkle at me, and I nod with a wide smile to assure her. “Promise?”

My gaze goes to his, and he lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes his head.

“I’m not letting go until you promise,” Willa says sweetly.

“I promise,” I tell her, feeling butterflies or nausea in my stomach. I’m not sure which it is, but if I had to bet, I’d put money on nausea. “Bye, Willa bear.”

I literally scurry down the aisle and out of the grocery store. I even leave my cart. When I’m in the car, I let out a relieved breath and realize being here back in Madison is going to be much harder than I thought.