“MOMMY, I’VE DECIDED what I want for my birthday.”
Heather Jacobs paused in her conversation to focus on her daughter. Not that she had much choice: Millie had wrapped herself around Heather’s waist much like an octopus would wrap itself around lunch.
“Millie, I’m talking. You’re supposed to say ‘Excuse me,’ and wait.”
“I’m sorry. But it’s so perfect, and I’ve been thinking about it forever and I just have to tell you about it now!”
Heather glanced across the top of Millie’s head and shared a look of empathy with her friend Xander Sorenson, a fellow single parent and her main link to sanity at these extended family gatherings.
“Who else needs an apology from you?”
Millie wriggled with impatience, but offered a sincere, “Sorry, Mr. Sorenson.”
“Accepted.” He tugged on the end of Millie’s ponytail, narrowly missing the bright blue ribbon that Heather had woven into the curls to mark the festive occasion—the birthday party of Xander’s daughter, Cady. “So what’s such a perfect present that you figured it out already? Isn’t your birthday in the fall?”
“October 29. Almost Halloween. And, Mommy, what I want is...” Millie clasped her hands in front of her, twisting them together. “What I really want more than anything is for you and Daddy to share me more. Like Mr. Sorenson and Aunt Darcy share Cady.”
So much for Heather’s lifelong certainty that it was impossible for a jaw to actually drop.
It wasn’t that the question was unwelcome. On the contrary, it probably ranked right up there with Millie’s just-birthed howl, or the first time she’d said Mama. Heather had been yearning to hear those words, or a variation thereof, for almost nine long and lonely years.
But why had Millie chosen to make her request in the middle of a birthday party that was almost entirely populated by members of her ex’s very large, very nosy family?
Parenting Truth Number 614: Kids will always find the worst possible time to ask you anything.
And Heather had thought it was rough explaining tampon dispensers in public bathrooms.
“Mommy? Did you hear me?”
Thankfully, most of the adults in attendance were busy blowing bubbles for the pint-size guests. The back lawn of the North family home, usually an expanse of green reaching from the house to the bank of the St. Lawrence River, was today dotted with clumps of toddlers, their parents and enough balloons to decimate the world’s helium supply. No one was within hearing distance.
No one, that was, except Xander, her fellow North family outlier. Who, being no dummy, immediately shoved his hands in his pockets and began backing away.
“You know, I’m pretty sure I should be flipping burgers or something.”
Heather did a mental eye roll. Not five minutes ago, he had joined her beneath a towering maple, brushing glitter from his hair and shoulders—he’d been under the piñata when it had surrendered—and making jokes about getting out of the sun before he turned into a disco ball.
The truth, Heather suspected, was that he—like she—had needed a moment away from the crowd. The Norths were a large and loving family, one that didn’t hesitate to fold newcomers and outliers—and even exes such as herself—into their midst. It was one of their better characteristics. But for those not accustomed to the family, the effect could be most charitably described as overwhelming.
She waved him away, expecting him to escape as fast as his long legs could take him. But after two steps, he stopped and turned back.
“You know,” he said, “I heard there’s a turtle that’s been making an appearance near the dock these days. You guys might have time to catch it before lunch.”
“A turtle? Cool! Come on, Mom!”
Millie grabbed Heather’s hand and half dragged her across the lawn. The parts of Heather’s brain not occupied with making sure she didn’t trip over a clump of weeds sent a mental message of thanks toward Xander. He’d bought her both time and distance, and did it in a way that was guaranteed to ensure that Millie the junior scientist would be too excited to see how she’d been played.
Thankfully, the wild flight halted as they approached the shore, where Millie cautioned Heather to move slowly and quietly. They crept to the spot Millie decreed was the perfect place for a turtle to approach. Moments later, Heather found herself sprawled on the dock, her belly warmed by the sun-kissed boards and the back of her neck already tingling in a way that made her wish she’d applied more sun block. But early June was too soon for her summer instincts to have kicked in.
“We can’t stay too long,” she cautioned. “We’ll get burned.”
“I know.” Millie spoke absently, inching forward to peer into the water. “I don’t see anything. I wonder if it’s here?”
“Mills...” Heather hesitated, unsure how to begin.
Parenting Truth Number 471: Let the kid set the pace.
“Mills, when you said you want me and Daddy to share you—what do you mean?”
“Well, you know, Jason in my class, he spends a week with his mom and then a week with his dad. He’s always forgetting his homework at the wrong house, but he still has to do it.”
“Of course.”
“So I wondered how come he got to do it that way, but I only get to be with you a little. And then at Easter, we were hunting for eggs and Cady was here and I remembered that she gets to do something like that with her mom and dad, so I—Whoa! Did you see that?”
Millie pointed toward a series of circles rippling through the water from a spot a couple of arm’s lengths off the deck. She pushed herself forward enough that Heather grabbed her shirt.
“Back, kiddo.”
“But Mom—”
“Scooch back. Now.”
“Fine.” Millie complied with a sigh. “Jeez, Mom. I’m ten and a half. I know how to be safe.”
The part of Heather that would never be comfortable seeing Millie around water urged her to grab the child and march her off the dock. The part that had spent years learning to listen to her head instead of her gut reminded her to take a chill pill.
“Humor me.” With a deep breath, she did a fast mental recap of the conversation before the interruption. Jason... Cady...sharing.
Easter