Chapter Three
Darla
“Okay, Stella Bella. Time for beddy-bye.” I draw back the covers of my daughter’s big-girl bed. It seems like only yesterday she was in a crib with a teddy-bear mobile dangling over her head. Now, she has so many stuffed teddy bears in her bed, there’s not much room for her six-year-old body to stretch out.
One thousand one. One thousand two.
“Aw, Mommy, not already.”
Two seconds. Wow. I’m impressed. That has to be a world record. But Stella knows if she puts up a fuss, I’ll give in and play our little game. I can never resist that cute face and those adorable dimples.
I pat her pillow and point to it. “You don’t want to be sleepy for your last day of first grade, do you?”
She climbs into her bed, wearing a pitiful pout on her face. “Please. I promise I’ll get up without being a grumpy bear.”
I tickle her until she’s a big squirmy mess. “Okay, one game.”
“Yes,” she says, pumping her fist into the air as if she’s a teenager. Oh boy. That’s going to be fun as a single mom.
She talks me into playing every single night. At first, it was a way to teach Stella her letters and how to read. But it has become our little bedtime ritual. It’s not as though she has to twist my arm to play, that’s for sure. I love playing our game as much as she does. If she only knew how much it means to me, we would be playing it around the clock.
She hands me her dry-erase board that she had hidden under her pillow, waiting for the go-ahead. She can play me like a fiddle, and I love every minute of it.
“You are a rascal. No peeking.”
She giggles and covers her eyes while I write out the puzzle. When I’m finished, I snuggle in next to her, tossing a few stuffed animals to the foot of the bed. I show her the puzzle.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“Choose your first letter, ma’am.”
She grins at me. “A.”
“I don’t know,” I say, teasing her before I add the letters.
_ _ _ _ _ A _ _ A _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
She grins at me and picks two more letters.
“You are soooo good at this.”
“I know, right?”
“And modest too.”
“What’s modest?”
“Never mind. Pick a letter.”
“T.”
S T E _ _ A _ S A S _ E E T _ _ _ _
“Stella is a sweet girl,” she says.
“We have a winner,” I say, tickling her again. I give her a big kiss and let the board slide to the floor, holding on to her so close that I’m not sure where I end and she begins. My eyes close to drink in her goodness. She has no idea how she saves my life every single day.
“Mommy, why are you always so sad at night?”
I open my eyes. I thought I was better at hiding it. “I’m not sad.”
She leans up and puts her sweet little hands on my cheeks. “Your face is sad.”
I stare at my precious daughter, who is the spitting image of her father. She even acts like him. He’s missing out on so much. I wish I could reach out to him and show him what he’s missing. I wish he wanted us.
“How can I be sad when I have you?”
She gives me a suffocating hug that I absorb with all my soul. I cherish every one of these moments because I know that one day, I’m going to blink, and Stella will be all grown up.
“Oh, and guess what?” She releases me so fast, I don’t know what hit me. She can change topics faster than the weather changes in Nashville. “Miss Silva said we’re going to have a special guest come to our class tomorrow.”
“Really?”
She bobs her head up and down, her crazy blond hair going every which way. “Uh-huh. It’s her brother, and he’s a doctor. He’s a ped-a, ped-uh something.”
“Pediatrician.”
“Yeah, that’s it. A kid doctor.”
“That’s super cool. I wish I could be there, but I gotta work.”
She pats my hand. “That’s okay. You see doctors all the time, anyway.”
“Yep.” I kiss her cheek. “Now, bedtime.”
“Not before you get the kisses even.”
I kiss her left cheek then her right cheek over and over until I get the kisses balanced. On purpose, I keep the kisses unbalanced for a while so I have an excuse to smooch those marshmallow-soft cheeks a few more times. She squeals. I love making her smile. I love anything that has Stella in the subject line. I love that I get to share my life with her.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you more,” she whispers back.
By the time I leave her room, she’s mostly asleep already. I remember when I could sleep that well. I used to sleep through two alarm clocks and my sister’s hair dryer. But that was pre-Stella. That was before I had to sleep with one eye open in case the love of my life needed me. I don’t care. Sleep is overrated. I would take Stella over a full night’s sleep any day, and I have the dark circles under my eyes to prove it.
I meander down the hallway that still has a smidge of crayon drawings on the wall from that one time I wasn’t watching her for one minute. Her artwork is too cute to wash off. I may never get my rental deposit back, but it’s worth it. The clickity-click of my Chihuahua’s toenails on the hardwood floor follow me into the kitchen. Yeti thinks if I’m heading toward the “food” room, it must be treat time. I retrieve a Greenies bone for him, and he takes off with it, clenching it tightly in his mouth in case I have any intentions of stealing it from him. Yuck.
I run my hand over the latest addition to my refrigerator art that Stella brought home from school earlier this week. This drawing is of Mickey Mouse. It won’t be long until she gets to meet him in person, or in mouse—whatever he is.
There are so many drawings on the refrigerator now, I think I’m going to have to buy a bigger one. I can’t seem to part with any of her precious creations. Shelby, my boss, has banned me from posting any of Stella’s artwork in my office at the hospital fitness center where I work. She says they’re too distracting… for her.
Now that Yeti’s late-night munchies have been satisfied, I drag myself into the super quiet living room and collapse onto the second-hand couch. With a deep breath, I stare at the four walls covered with yard-sale “art.” Yeti jumps up in my lap and gives me a quick, sloppy kiss on my face. I rub his ears, making him groan. I swear that dog’s eyes roll back in his head when I give him ear scratches. I curl up on the couch, and he finds a comfy spot behind my knees. After his typical circling, circling, circling, he settles in and lets out a deep, groaning exhalation.
“I know, buddy.”
Stella has no idea how sad I truly am. I try to put on a happy face because she deserves it. I want her to have an uncomplicated life, so if I have to fake my happiness, I’ll do it. But I miss her dad so much it hurts. Even though we only had one night together, I thought he loved me.
I wish so many things had worked out differently, but Stella is not one of those things. When I invite myself to one of my pity parties, I have to remember that had it not been for that one and only frat party I went to, she would not even exist. My world would be in perpetual suck mode if it weren’t for her.
I only wish he had wanted me, had wanted her.
As sad as it makes me not to have him, I see him every day in her. I see him in her sweet, playful smile. I see him in her messy hair. Her love of playing games she definitely gets from him. Yep, she’s definitely the best thing that has ever happened to me.
But it should have been better. It could have been better. Still snuggled in his bed with the party going on below us, I was seconds away from telling him my real name that night, when some jerk caught the place on fire. I should have stuck around outside the house and waited for him. I should have made sure he was safe. But he made me promise to get out of the house and not look back until I got back to my dorm. I was so traumatized, I didn’t think straight until everyone had scattered after graduation two days later.
My eyes scanned the droves of people at graduation in hopes that I would miraculously bump into him, but of course, that didn’t happen. And by the time I realized I was pregnant, it was too late. He chose Mallory over us. He had already moved on, and it was entirely my fault.
Someday, Stella will hate me for it all. If I do an Internet search on the word “idiot,” I will no doubt see my picture staring back at me as the first search result, and I wouldn’t even have to click on the “I’m feeling lucky” icon.
On days like today, I really think about him. I thought I saw him today out of the corner of my eye. But when I got a good view of the guy, my hopes faded even though the memories didn’t. Right when I think I’m getting my life back together, something will remind me of what Stella and I lost.
A single tear drops out of my eye and slides down my cheek. It’s followed by another and yet another. The tears rain down my face faster than I can wipe them away. I don’t even try anymore.