Another Piece of My Heart

  Forty-nine

  Michael pulls his suit pants back on and reaches down to help me up from the living-room floor. I can’t believe we christened our apartment already! So cool! I stand up and wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Maybe we should have some champagne to celebrate?” He cranes his head back to look at me. “There’s a wine bar right around the corner—VinoRosso. Shall we quickly run in?”

  “Definitely.” I grin, taking a last look around the apartment. “Wow. I can’t believe we’re going to live here.” And as we walk up the road we can’t stop talking about what our life is going to be like, and how great it’s going to be when we start our new life here.

  * * *

  My phone is on vibrate, and it’s at the bottom of my purse, and I swear, I never heard it ring once. By the time I get it out to check it, when we’re in VinoRosso and Michael’s in the bathroom, I realize that I have majorly, majorly, fucked up.

  There are endless missed calls from everyone. I look at my watch, and I gasp, because I swear, I swear on my life, I never ever realized what time it was, and that it had gotten so late.

  I didn’t think. I didn’t think about anything other than the apartment. I know Manuel picked Cal up, but I was supposed to be back to take him home. And I’m not. And I feel sick.

  I don’t even know who to call. My dad or Andi would be out of the question right now—I start to listen to the voice mails, but Andi is screaming, and I can’t listen. Sophia. She’s safest. I call her cell, and she picks up immediately.

  “Wow, Emily.” Sophia’s voice is heavy with sarcasm. “You really outdid yourself today.”

  “Jesus, Sophia. It was an accident, okay? I didn’t realize what time it was. I feel horrible. I just wanted to check that Cal was home and was okay.”

  “Yes, he’s home, but no thanks to you. You let Mom’s flower guy who barely speaks English, and who she barely knows, pick up Cal? Nice move.”

  “What else was I supposed to do?” I end up saying because she’s right, and I know it, and I don’t know what to do about it or how to make it better. “You refused to pick him up yourself.”

  “How about not being so selfish and thinking about someone other than yourself all the time? That would be a good thing to do.”

  I can’t tell her she’s right. I won’t. “Oh, my God, Sophia. Since when did you get so high-and-fucking-mighty,” I spit, wanting to hurt her—feeling, in that moment, like I am fourteen again and having another childish fight with my sister, and I want to cause her as much pain as she’s causing me.

  “Oh right. I forgot. You’ve always been Miss Goody Two-shoes.” My voice drips with sarcasm.

  “You still don’t get it, do you?” Sophia is incredulous. “Anything could have happened today. Manuel’s worked for Mom for about ten weeks. We know nothing about him. Not to mention that Cal went with Manuel in his truck, did you know that? And I’ve seen that truck. No seat belts and there’s no way he had a car seat.”

  “You’re overreacting. Mom leaves Manuel and Pablo in charge all the time. She obviously trusts him. I wouldn’t leave Cal with a stranger.”

  “She leaves them in charge for ten minutes at a time if she has to do an errand. That’s it. That doesn’t tell you anything about whether she trusts him or not.”

  “He’s fine, isn’t he?” I end up asking wearily. “Nothing happened.”

  “Thank the Lord. He’s home and yes, he’s fine. If I were you, I wouldn’t show my face around here for a while. Andi and Dad are ready to kill you.”

  “Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” I feel my voice catch, and I know I am on the edge of tears. “You said yourself, Cal’s fine.”

  “It is a big deal. And what’s more, you’re not going to be allowed to spend any more time with Cal.”

  That’s like a red rag to a bull. At least, right now. I’m angry, and defensive, and I cannot admit that I’m wrong. Sophia’s saying this just pushes all my buttons.

  “I am his mother, remember?” I say coldly. “Let them try and stop me.”

  “Okay. I will. I have to go now. Honestly? I’m ashamed of you right now. I don’t even want to talk to you myself, and I wish you had never come back.” The phone goes dead.

  Fifty

  By the time Michael gets back from the restroom, I’m a total mess. My eyes are red and puffy, and I’m crying so hard I can barely get the words out. I try to tell him what happened, between sobs, as he feeds me tissues, and when I’ve finished, I realize he’s looking sad. And disappointed.

  “God, Emily. I didn’t know you hadn’t found anyone to get Cal,” he says quietly. “I would never have dragged you in to see the apartment if I’d known.”

  “What do you mean?” I snap. “You think they’re right?”

  “Em.” His eyes are sad. “Of course they’re right. You let someone nobody really knows get a three-year-old from school. It’s totally irresponsible, not to mention, as they pointed out, potentially dangerous.”

  “Christ.” I feel more judged than ever, and, as that old, unhappy Emily used to do, I start to shut down. When it hurts, shut it out or walk away. And this hurts. A lot. “Take their side, why don’t you.” I stand up in a fury, ready to walk out because I cannot take this pain, but Michael grabs my arm and pulls me back down.

  “Listen to me. This isn’t about taking sides. I love you, Emily. And I know you. And sometimes you can be a little … thoughtless. You screwed up today. Big-time. It’s not the end of the world, but yes, you were wrong, and yes, you were selfish.”

  I can’t believe he’s saying this to me. I glare at him, trying to find the words, and as I glare, the fight suddenly goes out of me. I can’t put up this fight. I was wrong. And the apartment isn’t an excuse. Nothing is an excuse.

  “I know.” I close my eyes for a second. “I know I was wrong. I swear to you, I just totally forgot. I got so swept up in the excitement of the apartment, I forgot everything. To get him from school, and then to get him from Manuel and take him home. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.”

  I don’t know what else to say.

  “I know you are.” He is gentle. “But it’s not me you have to apologize to. You have to talk to your dad and Andi. You have to make it right. They can stop you from seeing Cal, even though you’re his mother, and my guess is if this went to court, it could be a large and messy battle. And expensive. You want to be with Cal, don’t you?”

  I look away. God. I wish he’d stop talking about it. I ask myself this question every day. I know I should want to be with him; it’s what I’m supposed to want, how everyone expects me to feel.

  It’s not like I don’t want to be with him, nothing as concrete as that, but … full-time motherhood? The thought gives me a fluttery feeling in my stomach, not in a good way, which is why I always push the thought aside.

  But Michael seems to want something else. I look up at Michael, knowing what he wants to hear.

  And I nod.

  It’s what Michael wants me to do. And I want to make him happy.

  “So you have to be a mother to him,” he says gently. “You have to prove to them you can do it.”

  “Okay.” I lean into his chest so I don’t have to look him in the eye. “Thank you. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. And so do your parents.”

  “Andi doesn’t,” I mutter, knowing how immature I sound but not caring.

  “You know, I think she does, even though you don’t make it easy for her. Start by saying sorry.”

  I sigh and sit back. “Okay. But I can’t deal with it tonight. The shit is totally hitting the fan. If I let them cool down overnight, I can go over tomorrow and apologize.”

  “Sounds fine.” Michael pulls his BlackBerry out and starts frowning at the screen.

  “Oh, man.” He shakes his head.

  “What?”

  “I sent Patrick a text saying we’d take the apartment, and he’s just texted me back.”

  “What doe
s he say?”

  “He says we can’t have the apartment. He needs to talk to me immediately, can I come and talk to him and Tim at five.”

  “Tim?”

  “The big boss. Oh, shit. This does not feel good at all.”

  Fifty-one

  Andi is first out of the car, up the path, and to the front door, desperate to be with Cal, but so tired she can barely put one foot in front of the other.

  “Hey, guys.” Deanna looks up from where she is sitting on the floor, playing with Legos with Cal. “How did it go?”

  “It was … interesting,” Andi says. “Thank you for the recommendation. You were right. She seems like an incredible woman.”

  “I swear, she’s the best custody lawyer for miles. People come from all over the state to see her. I’m just grateful she lives here and can help you.”

  “Yeah.” Andi sinks into a chair and reaches down to put Cal on her lap. “I’m just grateful she does yoga. If you hadn’t known her, I don’t know how we would have gotten in.”

  “See? It’s amazing who I meet through teaching. So? What did she say?”

  “You know what, Deanna?” Andi sighs. “I want to tell you, but I just can’t talk about it right now. I’m sorry. It’s all good, but I just haven’t got the energy. Can we talk tomorrow?”

  “Got it,” Deanna jumps up and kisses the top of Andi’s head. “Do you need anything before I go?”

  “I’m good. Thank you, sweetie.”

  “You’re welcome. I loved looking after Cal, by the way. He is so delicious.”

  “I know, and truly, I meant thank you for understanding, for being such a good friend.”

  Deanna pauses. “You know what? Why don’t you and Ethan have some time alone tonight? Why don’t I take Cal for another couple of hours? You look like you just need a break.”

  Andi looks from Cal to Deanna. Normally, she would say no. Normally, she cannot wait to get back home and be with Cal, but tonight she can do with the break.

  Tonight, she’s finally going to admit she’s not Superwoman and accept help when it’s offered.

  * * *

  Once Deanna and Cal have left, Andi thinks very hard about moving, but the thought won’t translate. She slumps, almost paralyzed, too tired to do anything other than stare off into the middle distance.

  “I made you green tea.” Ethan appears, holding a large steaming mug.

  “Thank you, sweetie.” Andi smiles gratefully as he places the tea on the table next to her, lowering himself into another chair, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his hands.

  “What did you think of the lawyer?” he says quietly.

  “I thought she was amazing.”

  “She seems to think we have a very strong case.”

  “Of course we have a strong case. Emily’s a disaster, and we have tons of evidence to prove it. Plus, as she pointed out, we’re the only parents he’s ever known. The court must do whatever’s in the child’s best interest, and she seems to think no judge in the country, let alone state, would think it was in Cal’s best interest to be with Emily.”

  “So you want to go ahead and file a petition to be appointed Cal’s legal guardians?”

  Andi puts her mug down and looks at Ethan. “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank God.” She closes her eyes, opening them to reveal tears. “I know how hard this is for you. I know how much you love Emily, and how painful this is, to have to make a choice. Thank you.”

  Ethan frowns. “Why are you thanking me?”

  “Because you’re doing the right thing for Cal.”

  “I know,” Ethan says softly. “But it’s also about us. I spent so many years trying to make Emily happy. I thought that if Emily were happy, then everyone would be happy. Her moods seemed to control everyone in the house, so I bent over backward trying to keep her mood good, convinced that if I managed it, then life would all be fine.”

  Andi nods. He rarely speaks about Emily. The subject is so emotional for both of them, Andi has learned to avoid the conversation, and the subsequent fights that always arise.

  “And then, when she ran away, I saw how different things were when she wasn’t here. The house was peaceful. Everyone was peaceful. Emily always blamed you, saying if you hadn’t come along, life would be great, and”—he inhales sharply—“as painful as this is to admit, I wondered if that were true. I didn’t blame you, but I thought this was something you had a part in, too.”

  “I know.” Andi reaches out a hand and squeezes his knee gently.

  “When she was gone, I realized it wasn’t you. And we had Cal. When Emily was pregnant, I just wanted the problem to go away, and I was so furious when she refused to give him up for adoption. I thought having this baby was going to ruin all of our lives.

  “I guess some part of me knew, or suspected, that the baby would be dumped on us, and I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to have to resent my daughter for constantly treating us like babysitters, and I didn’t want to have a baby around. I’m forty-nine, for God’s sake. I’ve done the baby thing, and I know how tiring it is.

  “But the minute he was born, I knew I’d drop everything for this child. And the minute Emily left, I knew that I would raise him, that although officially I’m the grandparent, I’m his father, and there is nothing I want more in the world.

  “I loved, still love, seeing you as a mother. I know how much you wanted children, and how hard it was for you to accept you couldn’t have them, but I didn’t realize how much of a loss it must have been. I didn’t really know until I saw you with Cal.

  “Andi, I have fallen in love with you all over again through watching you be Cal’s mother. I am stunned, every day, by your patience, and love, and the way you guide him through this world, and I am so proud of you. I am so proud of us. Of my family.”

  His eyes fill with tears. “I love Emily, but I can’t fix her. I tried fixing her for years, and it didn’t work. I can’t let her break up this family. She isn’t Cal’s mother. I don’t care that she gave birth to him, she isn’t his mother. You are.

  “I love my daughter, but she is not equipped, in any way, to be a mother, which she has proved to us, numerous times, since she’s been back. I’m still”—he shakes his head—“appalled that she allowed someone who is practically a stranger to pick Cal up. I know she’s apologized, but I can’t forgive her. I will. Of course I will, but I can’t just yet.

  “If this is about what’s best for Cal, and if that lawyer is right, the courts will recognize that and will revoke her parental rights and give us custody. I hate that it has to go that far, but I can’t hope that Emily sorts herself out anymore. I can’t wait for things to get better.

  “I want to file the petition as soon as possible.”

  Andi just sits, looking at him. This is the most he has spoken about Emily ever, and the most honest he has ever been. She knows how hard it is for him, can see the pain etched on his face, is filled with a wave of all-consuming love for this man who—right now she cannot believe this was ever the case—she almost walked away from three years ago.

  “I love you so much.” Andi stands, walks to the chair, and sinks onto Ethan’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you for your bravery, and your quiet courage, and your integrity.”

  They hold each other tight.

  Andi turns her head slightly to ask gently, “Do you think this will turn out okay? Do you think we’ll get him?”

  “I think we will,” Ethan whispers. “I somehow think this is all going to work out exactly the way it is supposed to.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she says.

  “I am,” he whispers, kissing her on the neck, then on the cheek, then moving to her mouth.

  “Ethan!” She laughs, craning her head back. “You cannot be serious! How can you be in the mood for sex? We’re going through the most emotional time of our lives, and you want sex? What’s the matter with you?”

 
“I can’t help it.” He shrugs. “I love my wife, and we have an empty house for the next two hours. Come upstairs with me, lovely wife. Let’s make the most of it.” Andi allows herself to be led upstairs before opening her arms and pulling him in.

  Fifty-two

  I stare at myself in the mirror and slide a Juicy lip gloss over my lips, smacking them together to spread the gooey gloss evenly. I’m trying to look mature. Responsible. I’m trying to prove that I’m not a little girl anymore, but a woman. A girlfriend. A mother.

  I’m trying to be the kind of woman who strides confidently down a street, secure in her skin. The kind of woman you would trust.

  God, I wish Michael were here with me. I said I could wait until he came back, but he says I have to do this now. He’s on a Virgin Atlantic flight on his way to Heathrow Airport, and I know I just have to get this over with.

  Still, if he were here, he would be with me, and I know it would be so much easier. One of the things I love most about him is how he calms me down and helps me to see things differently. I know I’m not the easiest person in the world, and Michael might be the only person who truly knows how to handle me.

  He helps me to see things differently and is the only person I trust to tell me the truth. Plus, I can hear it from him because I know, finally, it doesn’t change his feelings about me, and I know that when he tells me stuff I don’t want to hear, it’s not because he’s trying to hurt me but because he wants life to be easier.

  I was thinking about Andi this morning. How Michael has helped me to see that I don’t hate her, that it became a story I told myself, a role I played, and that it’s okay to let it go and let us be friends. Although right now, Andi wants nothing to do with me.

  And I was thinking about what Andi says about marriage. She always says she doesn’t believe women should get married before the age of thirty-five, which isn’t exactly surprising given she was ancient when she and my dad married. But she says women change so much in their twenties, they can’t possibly know who they are, and the choices they make before the age of thirty are rarely good ones.