Sunday, October 3
Old Forge, New York
Willa stayed too late to drive back to wherever she was staying and crashed on the couch, but when I went downstairs, just after seven a.m., she was already gone, a note left behind on the hall table.
Thanks for everything, Mary. Enjoy your new life. You’ve earned it. Xx
Rachel wasn’t due to get Alex until eleven a.m., and he was bouncing off the walls by eight thirty, so I filled a bag with Goldfish and juice boxes, and we packed into the car, headed to the closest playground, one with cedar play structures, that was nestled in the woods and entirely empty, apart from us.
Alex was careening across one of the bridges and toward a ladder, perfect for climbing, when a woman and another toddler approached. Her kid looked to be about Alex’s age, and he rushed up to join him, not missing a beat. Alex smiled at the company, and the two chased each other back and forth across the wooden bridge.
“Talk about an instant connection,” the woman said. She wore a Patagonia fleece jacket and yoga pants, her hair pulled into a neat bun.
I smiled. “Alex has been spending too much time with me. He’s desperate for another toddler.”
The woman laughed. “How old?”
“Turned two in July.”
“Reese in August. No wonder they’re on the same wavelength.”
We turned back to watching our kids, running from one bridge to the next, taking turns on the massive slide, climbing and tripping and just being kids, one of us rushing in if they needed water or a snack or to be held after a boo-boo.
At ten thirty, I told Alex it was time to head back and as we packed up our things, the woman came up to me. “I’m Sarah,” she said. “If you want to trade numbers, we could do a playdate sometime? The boys are getting along so great.”
I hesitated only a moment. But then I smiled, feeling brave. “I’d love that.”
She handed me her phone, and I punched my number in, and Alex gave Reese a hug before we headed to the parking lot, the two of us mothers promising to arrange something for next week.
When we were back in the car, Alex strapped in tight, the speaker playing Disney songs on a loop, the sun beaming through the windshield, making the rose gold glow around my wrist, I realized something.
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t scared to be alone.
But for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t scared to give a person a shot, either.
After all, I thought, laughing to myself, everyone is trustworthy when you compare them to Willa.