Page 29 of Not Until Her

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Page 29 of Not Until Her

“I tried,” I whine. “Tim isn’t going to do anything. I guess her dad told him she was depressed, so he doesn’t want to bother her for the foreseeable future.”

I finally let go, and jump up to sit on the counter. Another thing that makes me feel like a little kid again. If my mom was awake, she’d yell at me to get my butt down. She always didback then. My dad just chuckles like he’s also remembering all those years ago. Little Reya with her bright blonde hair, and big attitude.

“You have other options. You haven’t talked to her about it, have you?”

“She’s like, impossible to talk to. I’ve never even run into her coming and going from her apartment. The only proof I have of her existence, other than seeing her drive that car, is the music and the notes.”

“If you don’t want to call the police on her, you’re going to have to put your foot down a little harder. Have you even knocked on her door during the day?” he asks.

“Well… no.”

“Why is that? Are you scared of her?”

Am I? For some reason I don’t feel completely set on saying no to that question.

“I don’t think so,” I answer.

“Why do you have to think about it? You are or you’re not.”

“I’m too tired.”

He pats my shoulder a couple times, and gives me a smile that looks too pitiful for my liking.

“You’re not helpless. Stop worrying about inconveniencing her, when she’s obviously not worried about doing the same to you and Dahlia. If you don’t stop this now, it’s not going to stop.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“You forget that I raised you. It is easy. You have more fire and determination in your pinky than most people have in their entire bodies. Use it.”

My heart could burst. I’m so lucky to have such amazing parents that believe in me so much.

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, sunshine. Get some rest.”

Clearly you don’t care that my daughter exists, because you so rudely woke her up late last night with your music, and she cried her head off. Messing with my life was one thing, but messing with hers is going to be a problem.

I’d LOVE to discuss things in person with you, but you’ve done a really good job at avoiding me. Want to drop the stubborn crap and do a single mom a favor? I’m sure we can compromise here.

Unless of course you’re actually a ghost, in which case I kindly ask that you haunt a different building.

Thanks.

I don’t want to disrupt Dahlia’s schedule too much, so I let her take the bus home for the rest of the week. We hang out there, make dinner, watch some of her favorite shows, and play with her favorite toys. As soon as the sun sets, we head back to my parents to sleep. She hasn’t complained for a second, and I could cry at how relieved I am to have such a good kid. She’s a lot more patient and gracious than I am, because I ampissedabout not being able to sleep in my own bed. I want to throw all kinds of fits about it. Stomping my feet and screaming my head off sounds so good right about now, and it makes me all the more grateful that I don’t have to handle it from her.

Maybe that’s why she is the way she is. The universe knew that there was only room for one big baby in our lives, and it was never an option for me to give up that title.

I expect to finally find a response to my previous note when we leave the house on Friday, but there’s nothing. She took my note and didn’t bother to answer because I was right.

She’s avoiding me.

10

With a mug of hot tea that smells like a warm hug and tastes like dirt, I curl up in the chair on my front porch. The sun has already set, and I shiver the second I sit down. I could be better prepared with warmer clothes, but I stay put out of pure stubbornness. At least my hands are warmed by the drink I’m holding, not that it would help if it starts to snow like the forecast mentions.

Tonight’s agenda is to watch enough videos on crocheting that I might feel inspired to pick up the ridiculous collection of supplies that has been rotting in my closet. This isn’t my first attempt at this technique, but who’s to say it won’t be the last? Maybe today’s the day.

I pull up a video I’d previously started, feeling good about the friendly face on the screen. Or… maybe she doesn't look that friendly, but her hair happens to also be pink. I take it as a good sign.




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