Chapter 20
This is not happening to me!
I turn the key and try to start my car, the pressure in my chest increasing. My thoughts are still vague since that kiss this morning. Since Colin left my house in silence and left me burning and confused. I can’t be late. Mrs. Robbins is willing to accept many things, but delays lead to fines. She doesn't care about my car or the state of my bank account. In a mild hysterical fit I call my mom and pray with all my might that I won't have to take a taxi to the daycare.
You have money for that.
I'm not touching that money. I know what would happen. I'd take just a little, and then just a little more, and before I know it I wouldn’t have a penny left. That money is for Vivian.
"Lizzie?" My mom answers after two rings.
"Tell me you're home, that you're free." I get out of the wreck and slam the door shut.
"What do you need?"
I need a brain, and one that actually functions if possible, please, instead of kissing my ex and missing him.
"My car broke." Again. It's getting ridiculous.
"I'll pick up Viv." She saves me for the millionth time.
"Bring her home, Colin—" I blurt.
"Colin?"
"He's coming at five to spend time with her." God only knows how it will go after this morning's stupid behavior.
"I'll bring her home," she answers in a particularly pleased tone.
"Thanks, I'll call the tow truck." I'll have to find a solution for tomorrow morning or I'll have no way of taking Vivian to daycare. Dammit, it's just not fair!
"Hey," I open the door to Colin an hour later and try to keep our eyes from meeting. "Viv, Colin is here!"
"Dad!" She comes running from the back yard, leaving dusty footprints on the floor.
"Where's your car?" He lifts Vivian naturally and holds her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist.
"In the garage, it didn't start. Again."
"How did you get Viv back from daycare?" he frowns.
"I called my mom." As always. Welcome to my world, Colin.
"Your mom?"
"Who was I supposed to call?"
"Me," the insult in his voice is clear, "what do you not understand 'bout the sentence, 'let me help?'" He puts Viv on the floor and leans over to her. "I think we'll have dinner out today, sweetie, if that's all right with you."
"Okay." She shrugs as he gives her a hand.
"First we'll stop somewhere and help Mom and then we'll go to the playground."
"What are you doing?" I mutter in confusion.
"Buying you a decent car." He straightens up and smiles forcedly.
"You're not buying me a new car!" I burst out in shock. They both stand at the door holding hands and waiting for . . . something that is not going to happen!
"Elizabeth," he keeps his cool, though I’m guessing it costs him dearly. "Bring your bag and get into my car or I can choose you a ride myself. I can't promise you'll love my choice."
"Colin," I can't move, "you don't buy me a car!"
"You're not keeping your junk of a car anymore, it's not safe, and you're driving my child around."
"I don't like our car," Viv intervenes at the worst moment, "it always gets stuck, and Mom swears, but that's funny."
"It's not funny," I resent, "and I don't swear."
"She swears and then calls Granny to come save us." The little snitch…
"Colin, please don't do that."
"I'm not asking you." He waves away my resistance without blinking. "You can be as angry with me as you want, but get your bag, now."
Colin's car smells good. The smell of a man and of new leather and of luxury. Who knew prestige had a smell? Well it does, it smells like this jeep. Like the power and confidence it emits as it navigates the road between the tiny cars. Vivian is in the backseat, listening to our conversation with curiosity, a reminder that I have to watch my mouth at all times.
"Do you have a preference?" Colin ignores my protests.
"I love my car." I hate it, but Colin is not supposed to buy me a new one.
"Excellent, so we've decided."
Very funny.
"At least make it be black," I mutter in defeat. He's buying me a car, and I can't do anything about it.
"Your requirements need upgrading." He smiles without moving his eyes from the road.
"What do I know about cars, Colin?"
"You knew enough back when we bought our faltering beetle," he says quietly.
"I knew nothing," I correct him. "I took one look at it and knew it'd give us trouble."
"What ever happened to it?" He gives me a quick glance then looks back at the road.
"What happens to all the old cars? It went to the garage and never came back." After it got stuck in the middle of the road—when I was eighth months pregnant. I stood at the side of the road and cursed Colin for choosing it.
"It went to the garage and never came back," his mouth curls into an evil smile, "sort of like your car."
"You're funny," Vivian chirps from the backseat.
"Thanks, Viv." He glances at her in the mirror. "What car do you think we should buy?"
"Chevy," she answers to our amazement.
"Where do you know cars from?" I turn my head and stare at her in shock.
"Daryl says you should only buy American cars," she replies in the serious tone of someone quoting the most important thing she has ever heard. "He says we shouldn't give the money to others, that we should be pitriots."
My jaw drops. I don't care if she twisted the word. When the hell did she learn about patriotism? And from Daryl no less?
"Do you want to be a pitriot?" Colin immediately cooperates with her, not surprisingly.
"Yes, like you, Daddy," she answers proudly. "Daryl says all the soldiers are pitriots."
Colin's smile erases. We both know that patriotism had nothing to do with him enlisting.
"Looks like we're buying you a Chevrolet." He takes a deep breath.
"You really don't have to," I whisper, but don't get a reply. His thoughts seem to be wandering somewhere else. I should shut up and let him buy me the damn car if it would do him good, even for a moment, and make him forget what he was thinking about now.
"Thank you." I open the car dealership door and walk out into the warm weather after freezing under the air conditioner for the past half hour while Colin conducted tough negotiations with the owner. Vivian behaved like a sport, sat on my lap and played on my phone. Colin asked a thousand questions, which I would not have thought to ask, while I listened quietly.
My new car will arrive tomorrow, and by then I'll wait patiently. Kinda.
"Stop thanking me," Colin grumbles again. I may have thanked him once or twice in the past five minutes, but he just bought me a new Chevrolet Cruise.
"I'd love to buy you dinner." I try to think of another way to thank him without saying the words explicitly.
"Do me a favor," he pauses and gives me a look I can't decipher, "I don't want to talk about it, I just want to spend the afternoon without you thanking me every thirty seconds in any way you can, okay?"
"Okay," I nod at once.
"Thank you," he replies in an assuaged tone. "Vivian, what do you want to eat?"
"Waffle." She jumps in her place.
"Let's go eat Waffle." He turns his head slowly toward me, probably waiting to hear me resist.
"Waffle sounds like a great idea," I hasten to cooperate.
"Really?"
"Great idea."
"What happened to 'real food first', and all the rules we can’t deviate from or some disaster will occur?" He seems pleased with what he said.
"I think I broke some rules this morning, around nine if I'm not mistaken, and the sky didn't fall," I practically whisper.
"But you have to admit that the earth shook." He raises an eyebrow arrogantly.
"You're not serious," I open my eyes wide.
"Eight on the Richter scale, if you ask me." He picks up Viv and carries her to his car.
"Hardly four!" I call and trail after them.
"Well," he laughs,"I guess one can aspire."
"Not going to happen again, Colin!"
"Mhm." He opens the car door and sits Viv in.
"Keep dreaming." I take the passenger seat and buckle myself up, hearing Colin murmur.
"That's exactly what I'm doing."
"I want Max the Great," Vivian manages to say, her mouth full of whipped cream and chocolate syrup, as we sit in one of the diners not far from the car dealership. She remembers bringing up the subject of her birthday, which will take place in a week.
"Who's Max the Great?" Colin has no idea.
"The neighborhood charlatan," I bite into a potato chip. Vivian might have given up real food, but Colin and I ordered hamburgers with sides, onion rings and strawberry milkshakes.
"And what is the role of the charlatan?" Colin takes a sip of his drink.
"Blowing up balloons, and the price of course," I explain, "and he calls himself a clown."
"Oh," Colin nods, "one of those."
"He's funny," Viv interrupts, "and it's my birthday, I get to choose."
"We're not having Max the Great." I expect a loud disappointment in a moment.
"Never!" She grumbles. "You never agree to anything I want!"
"Behave, please," I remind her of where we are.
"You're mean," she declares to my pale face.
"Vivian," Colin stares at her reassuringly, not threateningly but definitely determined, "there are other ways to celebrate your birthday."
"I don't want anything else," she frowns angrily. "I want Max, everyone invites Max!"
"You don't have to be like everyone else, you're special," he says in his caressing voice.
"Why don't I ever have a party?" Her lip begins to tremble and I know the tears are about to appear. "Why am I told NO all the time, and everyone gets everything?"
As I guessed, tears begin to flow, and the waffle is forgotten on the plate when her cheeks get wet. The guy sitting opposite me becomes helpless in an instant in face of the unexpected crying he is not used to.
"Viv . . ." I try to hug her, but she pushes me away, Colin panting heavily.
"You're mean!" she accuses me again.
"We'll do something else." I stare at Colin in despair.
"Viv, stop crying, you'll ruin the surprise." Colin reaches his long arm over the table and places it on weeping Viv's forearm.
"What surprise?" She looks up at him. Yes, Colin, what surprise?
"If I tell you, it won't be a surprise." He smiles. I can swear that he is pleased with himself to the roof, because his smug tone is not hidden from my ears.
"Mom never makes surprises."
"Of course she does," he says, not excited. "Finish your Waffle and we'll go to the playground before it gets dark."
"Colin . . ."
"Later." He waves his hand at me as if trying to silence me.
"Okay." I go back to looking at Viv, who has gone back to eating greedily the very unreal food in front of her.
"And don't call your mom mean," Colin adds in a serious tone that makes Viv look up at him. "She loves you, don't forget that."
"I'm sorry," she nods, looking up at me for forgiveness.
"We'll do something else, I promise." I commit myself to something artful and completely incomprehensible.
"Don't tell me!" she hastens to silence me. "It's a surprise."
Yes, Viv. It definitely is a surprise. For the both of us.
Vivian is whooshing down the red slide. She is happy. She laughs loudly. Her blonde hair swirls in the cool afternoon breeze and her cheers echo through the playground.
Colin and I sit on a bench not far from her and look at the magical thing we've created together, romping around.
"Tell me about her birth." Colin's request makes my heart drop.
"It's a long story," I try to deflect.
"Are you in a hurry?"
"I don't like thinking about it," I sneak a quick glance at him, and my eyes meet his inquiring blue ones.
"You said she was in distress." I guess he hasn’t forgotten the accusations I made when he appeared in Mr. Blunt's store by surprise.
"My water broke," I look back at the little girl I almost lost that day, "and my mom took me to the hospital in her car and I thought it would take time, you know, until the contractions arrived, like we read online."
Colin was obsessed with the birth. I remember him sitting for hours reading every article he could find. In the end, the only one who needed that information was me.
"It should take hours." He sounds troubled.
"My contractions got stronger, even before I got to the ward." I remember the unbearable pressure, the pain that followed, and the fear that I would not survive. "They put me in the delivery room and everyone was calm, until they connected me to the monitor. From there . . . everything became chaotic." Colin is silent. "She was in distress, and the monitor showed her pulse was slowing, they had to get her out as quickly as possible."
"Do they know what happened?" His voice is shaking a little.
"Placental abruption," I reply. "I started to bleed on the way to the O.R. I remember the lights on the ceiling rushing past me, my mom holding my hand, me crying. I was told to calm down and breathe, but I didn't understand what was happening, so I screamed."
"Elizabeth," he clenches his hands until his knuckles turn white, "what have I done?"
"I called for you." The feeling of suffocation makes it difficult for me to continue. "I begged God to send you, then I pleaded for Him not to let her die. He probably had to choose between my requests, and He chose right."
He also gave me something I didn't ask for—my infertility—but I'd die before I say a word to Colin. It's none of his business.
"You said she was in an incubator."
"I woke up dazed after hours. I asked to see her, but I couldn't stand on my feet, and she needed help breathing better. She was in the NICU, and I wasn't with her."
"You were there all the time, don't blame yourself."
"I didn't hug her until morning, I didn't breastfed her the way I'd dreamed, I didn't take her home the way we had planned, and from that day on, whenever she coughed or cried or even when her stomach ached because of gas, I thought she was going to die."
"I'll never forgive myself." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and dropping his head.
"She still needs you, Colin." I'm trying to fix what broke long ago. "It's not too late, but you can't go away, you can't do that to her, I've barely survived your disappearance, but she's five, the damage she'll suffer . . ."
"I'll never leave her again," he murmurs in a broken voice. "She'll never be alone."
"Don't break your promise," I whisper.
"It's getting cold." He changes the subject sharply, raises his head, and the look on his face is distant. "I'll take you home."
"Vivian," I call to her, waving my hands. "It's late!"
She jumps off the slide and runs up to us, a huge smile smeared across her face.
"Ready to go?" Colin stands and picks her up.
"Ay-ay Captain!" She chirps with a rolling laugh. He carries her lightly in his arms to the car, and I follow them, praying that he will stand by his word and not break her heart.