THE PAIN THAT sliced through Heather at Millie’s words was so visceral that she almost expected to see a knife protruding from her chest. “Millie—”
“Why did you do it, Mommy?” Millie asked in a cracked whisper. “Why did you go?”
Ah, no. No. Not tonight, please God, not tonight.
Parenting Truth Number 2: Kids can always find a way to make things worse.
“Millie.” What she would give for a glass of wine right now. “Honey. We’ve talked about this before. Mommy and Daddy were so young when you were born. We both wanted the very best for you, but after a while, I figured out that I wasn’t grown-up enough to be a good mom. I thought the best thing I could do was to leave you with Daddy, because I knew he was a wonderful dad, and go learn how to be a good mom.”
“But why couldn’t you do that while you were still at home? Why did you have to leave?”
Dear Lord in heaven. She had always known this day would come—the day when Millie would no longer be appeased by the prettied-up version of the story. She always knew that someday, she would have to tell her girl the rest of the tale.
She just thought that she would have a few more years.
“Let’s sit down, okay? In the other room.”
Millie scowled but allowed Heather to lead her to the sofa. She didn’t snuggle against Heather as usual, but sat stiffly in the middle cushion, eyes staring straight ahead and glistening.
Well, at least she hadn’t huddled into the opposite corner.
“Okay. I’ve told you a few times, Uncle Travis and I...well, our mom had lots of problems.” No money, no patience, no compassion and no guilt at taking her frustrations out on her kids, for starters. “And our father wasn’t around, so—”
“Where was he?”
How to explain this one to a kid who still thought that kissing was the ultimate in grossness?
“He...we don’t know. He was never really part of our lives.”
If there was any mercy in the world, that would hold Millie for now.
“So anyway, we didn’t know what a family was supposed to be like. Or what a good mother was supposed to do, except what we saw on TV.”
“You mean your mom didn’t love you?”
“I don’t know.” On this one, at least, she could be honest. “I think she did, in some ways. I hope so. But the thing is, when you grow up like that, it can be really hard when you have kids of your own. Especially when you are still growing up yourself.” And suddenly plunged into a big, loving, but incredibly hands-on family like the Norths. Or trying to navigate parenthood and a marriage that should never have happened. Or dealing with your brother’s first return to prison. Or trying to convince yourself that the distress you were feeling was simply baby blues that never went away.
“I loved you so much, Mills. Please remember that part, okay? I didn’t know how to be a mom, and Daddy tried so hard to help me, but I thought I should just know what to do.” And instead of welcoming Hank’s guidance—or his mother’s, or even his grandmother’s—she had pushed them away, bluffing through motherhood the way she had bluffed her way through her life until then. Tough it out. Show no weakness. “I didn’t know that I was only making things harder on all of us.”
“Like what?”
“Like, one night you kept crying and crying, and Daddy said you should go to the doctor, but I said, no, I could take care of you.” Because that was what good mothers did. They waved their maternal wand and made things better. At least it always looked that way on Little House on the Prairie. “After two or three days, Daddy finally said you really had to go.” And after that many sleepless nights, Heather had been unable to protest any longer. “Turns out you had an ear infection. If I had taken you to the doctor when Dad first suggested it, you would have got some medicine and started feeling better in a few hours.” Instead, Millie had endured extended unnecessary pain.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Taking a chance, Heather scooped Millie’s hands between her own. “Sweetie, please remember, I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I never ever hit you or...or anything like that.” That, at least, was one lesson she had learned from her own mother. Parenting by hairbrush was something Heather had vowed to never inflict on her own kids, and that was one promise she had been able to keep. “But I didn’t know. And I thought...” Yes. She could admit this part. “I didn’t want anyone to figure out that I didn’t know what I was doing. That was another reason I wouldn’t let anyone help me. I was afraid that if anyone knew I was so...lost...that they might take you away from me.”
“But who—”
“I know. It didn’t make sense.” She smoothed Millie’s cheek. “None of it makes sense now, when I think about it. But sometimes, when you’re in the middle of something, you can’t see it very clearly.”
Millie’s scrunched-up nose was a pretty clear indicator that she had no idea what Heather was trying to say.
“Don’t try to figure that out, kiddo. It might take a few years to understand.”
A small nod. A tiny twirl of one ringlet with her finger. Then—
“But why did you go?”
The whisper was so tiny, so loaded with fear, that Heather knew she had to give Millie the truth this time. For she had learned the hard way that solid truth was rarely as devastating as imagined terror.
“One day, when you were not quite two years old, you wanted to play outside. It was a beautiful day. It was August, and we’d had a heat wave, but then it broke and we had this stretch of glorious weather, sunny and just warm enough, with the bluest skies. You wanted to be outside all the time. You loved to splash in the little creek that ran behind our place. You would spend hours there, throwing rocks in the water and watching the ducks and making leaves float.” She tugged on one curl of Millie’s hair. “You were such a little scientist, even back then.”
A hint of a grin pulled at Millie’s lips.
“But I was very tired that day, and really busy.” Tired from being up all night, fighting with Hank over money and child care and all the other frustrations that had served as a cover for her growing belief that she and he were not meant to be together. Worn out from doing the samba of job, classes, Millie. Exhausted from trying to convince the world that she had this, she was fine, just fine, when inside she was a quivering mass of doubt and fear and constant panic that she was going to slip and do something horrific and lose the one thing she could not lose. “So I didn’t take you out to play. We had to run errands and do laundry, and a million other things that all seemed so important.”
It had taken years before she could walk into a Laundromat without fighting tears.
“Anyway, it was finally time for your nap. You didn’t want to go to sleep. Some things never change.” With a smile, she stroked the back of Millie’s hand. “You had just moved into a big girl toddler bed, because you kept climbing out of your crib and we were afraid that you would fall and get hurt. But you kept getting out of the bed. And I was so tired that I didn’t know how to make you stay, other than maybe lock you in your room, but even I knew that wasn’t a good idea. So I took you into my room and lay down with you on my bed and you finally fell asleep. And then I did, too. No surprise, right?”
Millie nodded, then shook her head.
“I was really, really tired. More than I knew. So when you woke up before me and climbed out of bed, I didn’t hear you.” Heather glanced up to heaven for the right words, for the ability to get through the rest without falling apart. “I didn’t hear you leave the room. Or open the door to outside.”
Millie’s eyes opened wide. “I went outside by myself?”
“You did. And you went down to the creek.”
“That wasn’t good, was it?”
“You were two years old, sweetie. Not even that. You didn’t know. But I did.”
“What happened?”
“I woke up. And I couldn’t find you. At first I thought you had gone to your bed, but you weren’t there.” That was about when her heart had started pounding hard. “I looked all through the house, in all your favorite hiding spots. I was sure you had decided to play a trick on me. You know, curl up and hide, and then you were so cozy that you fell asleep. Because sometimes you did that.” She tightened her grip on Millie’s hand. “Then I saw that the back door was open.”
Millie recoiled.
“I ran through the yard. Down to the creek.”
Heather could still feel the branches that had raked her face as she ducked beneath them, could still taste the fear, metallic in her mouth. Could still feel herself stumble as she tried to go fast, faster, knowing she had to fly but unable to do so on limbs that had forgotten how to move.
“Was I there? At the creek?”
“Yes.” Heather ran her hands over Millie’s hair, twirling her fingers through it, binding herself to her girl. “You were lying at the edge of the water. You were all wet.” She swallowed, pushed out the words. “You weren’t moving.”
“What happened to me?”
Heather breathed in. Fought for strength.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I thought you... I thought I had lost you.”
“You thought I died?”
In her dreams, Heather still heard the scream that had ripped out of her at the sight of that small, still body. She still felt the way Millie’s name had pounded through her, still felt the ground rising up to hit her knees, still felt the grass and rocks digging into her arms as she half crawled, half walked to her silent baby.
“Yes,” she said. “I thought you had drowned.”
“But I didn’t.” Millie patted at Heather’s face, brushed at the tears slipping down Heather’s cheeks. “I didn’t, Mommy. It’s okay.”
Heather reached up to close her hand over Millie’s. “The hardest thing I ever did in my life was when I turned you over. I was sure I would see...” But to this day, she couldn’t make herself picture the blank stare and lax limbs of death. Not on her baby. “Then you scrunched up your face the way you always did when you didn’t want to wake up, and you stuck your thumb in your mouth. And I knew you were okay.”
Heather would never know how long she lay there in the cold mud, clutching Millie to her chest and sobbing over her. She would never forget how her legs wouldn’t hold her up, how her knees collapsed beneath her with almost every step as she carried her wriggling, protesting, living daughter into the house.
“I brought you inside, and I gave you a bath, because you were all muddy. Then I made you your favorite macaroni and let you eat it on the floor of my bedroom.” She swallowed down the hurt. “Because I needed to make sure you were safe while I packed.”
“That was when you left?”
“That night, honey. As soon as Daddy came home.”
“But I was okay.”
Heather knew what was coming. “And you think that means I should have stayed.”
Millie nodded, confusion written in the wrinkle of her nose.
“The thing is, Mills... I knew, more than anything else, that it was my fault. All of it. I wasn’t just afraid that I was a bad mother, I knew I was. And you almost died because of it.”
“But—”
“I know. It wasn’t as terrible as I thought, right? Just a horrible mistake that I could have avoided if I’d had the sense to lock the door.”
Millie nodded.
“You’re right. But I couldn’t see it then. All I could see was that it was my fault. That I was a terrible mother, worse than my own mom. I felt like this was a...a warning.”
“From God?”
“God, the Universe, the Evil Eye... I didn’t know. Didn’t care, really. I just knew that the next time, we wouldn’t be that lucky. And I knew, with everything inside me, that the only thing I could do to keep you safe was...”
“To leave?”
“Yeah.” Heather’s voice broke. “To leave.”
“And that’s why you left me? To make sure I wouldn’t die?”
“That’s about it, baby girl.”
“But that is so stupid!”
Laughter poured out of Heather as she pulled Millie close, all the more welcome because it caught her by surprise. “Oh, sweetie. You’re right. One hundred percent, absolutely right.” She kissed the top of the curly head. “But I was such a wreck that I didn’t know it then.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“I don’t expect you to, baby. And I have a feeling we’re going to have to talk about this a lot of times, and it will probably never make sense to you, because really, there’s nothing sensible about it.”
Millie’s head rested against Heather’s shoulder, warm and perfect and still a miracle. But there remained a stiffness to her body.
Heather was pretty sure she knew why.
“You’re wondering about the rest, right?” She stroked Millie’s head. “About why I didn’t figure out I was being stupid and come home right away?”
The small movement at her shoulder felt close enough to a nod that she felt safe in continuing.
“It wasn’t that easy, honey. I hurt a lot of people by running away.”
“Like Daddy?”
“You, most of all. Then Daddy, and Grandma and Grandpa, and all your uncles, and even Grandma Moxie. They all had tried to help me. And then they all had to step in when I ran away and help Daddy take care of you.”
“That’s when Daddy and me went to live with Grandma and Grandpa, right?”
“Right.”
“But they all like you now.”
“Which is all the proof you need that Daddy and his family are really wonderful people.”
And they were.
Millie snuggled in a little closer, her hair tickling Heather’s cheek, and ran her finger over the lone pink nail. “I missed you.”
“Oh, baby. I missed you, too, every minute. And you will never know how much I wish things had been different.”
But it wasn’t that simple. Millie deserved to know the rest—the part that Heather hadn’t really understood until recently.
I regret all the hurt and worry I caused people. Especially my folks. But if I hadn’t hacked, I wouldn’t have hid at Ian’s place, and if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have Cady. And I don’t regret anything that brought her into my life.
“Mills...listen. What I need to tell you now might be hard to understand, but I think you might be old enough to hear it. So promise you won’t freak, okay?”
“’Kay.”
“I missed you horribly. From the time I left, everything I did—school and work and classes and all of it—I did it all so that someday, I wouldn’t be just a Visit Mommy, but a real mom, one who could be part of your regular life. I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t mess up again. That’s why I didn’t let myself come back home. Not because I didn’t want to be with you, but because I wanted to be sure I was the kind of mom you deserved.” She nuzzled Millie’s head, breathing in her berry scented shampoo. “And even though leaving you was the worst thing I ever did in my life, in a way, I’m glad it happened.”
Millie jerked back. Heather tightened her grip on the small hands.
“I know. That doesn’t make any sense, either. I told you it was hard to understand. But listen, baby. If I hadn’t left you, I might never have figured out how badly I was messed up. I might have kept on the way I was, lying and pretending everything was fine. I might never have dared go to the classes where they taught me how to be a better mom.” She leaned forward to kiss Millie’s forehead. “Even though it was horrible to be so far away from you for so long, if that was the only way I could become the kind of mom that I wanted to be, then I am...well, not glad that it happened. But grateful. Do you understand the difference?”
Millie chewed on her bottom lip. “I think so. Like when I have to get a shot, right? I don’t like it, and it hurts. But I know it’s good for me. ’Cause we learned about polio in school, and Mrs. Rose said that if you got that, you couldn’t walk. Or you died.”
The same kind of speech Heather—and undoubtedly Hank—had given her all these years, but it only sank in when the teacher delivered it.
Parenting Truth Number 77: The parent is the ultimate word until they go to school. After that, it’s demotion city.
“That’s right, babe. And that’s a very good way to understand it. I should have known you would come up with the perfect explanation, my smart girl.”
Millie ducked her head and burrowed into Heather’s side. “I still wish you never left.”
“Me, too, sweetie. But that’s all behind us now. From now on, I’m gonna stick so close to you that you’re gonna beg me to leave you alone.” She poked Millie in the ribs, eliciting a muffled giggle. “I’m going to camp with you next summer. And then I’m going to high school with you. And when you’re, like, all grown up and you go to university, I’m going to pack myself a suitcase and move into the dorm with you. How does that sound?”
Heather draped herself over the squirming mass of gasps and giggles that was her daughter and did her best imitation of a blanket.
“Like this, Mills. This is it. Forever and ever, amen.”
“You’re silly.”
Compared to some of the problems she had dealt with over the years, silly was a cakewalk.
“Give Daddy a little longer, honey. He loves you so much. He just wants what’s best for you.”
“I know.” The long sigh that accompanied the words turned into an oof as Heather heaved herself upright. “Mommy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“And I’m sorry I messed things up so badly that you had to yell. Call it even?”
“Okay.” Millie jumped up from the sofa. “Boy, I’m hungry!”
With that, she was off, racing toward the table and yelling things about microwaves and mashed potatoes and yucky carrots.
Heather gave herself a moment to sag back against the sofa and stare blankly at the ceiling. Dear God, she hoped she hadn’t messed that up.
You probably did better than you think.
She hoped Xander would think so this time, too.
* * *
XANDER HAD NEVER claimed to understand the universe, but some things still amazed him. Like how Halloween seemed to come earlier each year, at least judging by when they rolled out the displays at Wal-Mart. Or what had prompted him to detour down the aisle with the costumes. Or what had made him grab a witch hat and plop it on his head while cackling at Cady.
Yet there he was, trying on one headpiece after another while Cady sat in the cart, choosing hats like a queen ordering an execution and laughing so hard that he was thankful he’d left her in a diaper instead of attempting big girl panties for this outing.
“Dat one!” She pointed to a hat trimmed with black feathers. Xander obediently removed the sequined hat from his head and replaced it with the new version.
“What do you think?” He stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes. Her laughter pealed around him, and Xander’s world pinked up a bit. Pink was way more welcome than the blue and gray and gloom that had overlaid everything since Heather called it quits.
“Three weeks,” he said to Cady. “Probably time for your old man to quit moping, huh?”
Cady’s answer was to snatch the hat from his head and toss it to the ground.
“Easy, kiddo. Don’t ruin the merchandise.”
But maybe she had a point. Maybe it was better that things were over now, before anyone got in deeper. If things had gone on and Cady had fallen for Heather, only to be tossed aside like a cheap witch hat—
He took a deep breath. Nope. He wasn’t going to go down Bitter Road.
“Which one now, Cady?”
“Dat one!” When had they started making witch hats out of shiny purple camo?
“When I was your age, these were plain black. No fur. No glitter. We had to use our imagination.”
“Back in the good old days?”
Huh? Cady couldn’t talk that well yet.
Xander whipped around in search of the amused female voice, so quickly that his hat slid down over his eyes, blocking his view.
He yanked the hat from his face, blinked and squinted at a woman in green scrubs who was leaning on her cart and smiling at Cady.
“Are you guys taping an episode of Toddler Eye for the Daddy Guy?”
Cady eyed the woman. “Hi.”
“Hi, sweetie. Are you having fun twisting your dad around your little finger?”
Cady should pick the red hat next. It would probably match the heat creeping into his face.
“She takes her job as fashion consultant seriously,” he said.
“I can see that.”
Was that a compliment?
“Sorry we’re blocking the aisle. Give me a second and we’ll be out of your way.”
“Oh, you’re fine. I don’t need anything here.” The woman waved toward the racks of Halloween accessories. “But I have to tell you, I just got off a killer twelve-hour shift in the ER—and it was such a treat to hear someone laughing that I had to see where it was coming from.”
“Yeah, I imagine that would sound pretty good.”
“You definitely brightened my day, sweet girl. Thank you.” The woman shifted her smile to Xander. It was a very nice smile.
Not as nice as Heather’s.
But Heather had called it quits.
Cady tipped her head in her most enchanting manner. “You gots cookie?”
The woman burst into laughter. A very nice laugh.
Yeah, but it doesn’t sink into you the way Heather’s does.
But Heather didn’t want what he wanted. She didn’t want the kids and family thing. One strike and she was out. He didn’t need that kind of negativity in his life. He needed someone who could see beyond the past.
“Sorry, sweetie,” the woman said. “No cookies. Those only come from Daddy.” Her gaze drifted to his left hand. “And Mommy.”
She wasn’t Heather. But she was here and obviously interested. She liked Cady. She seemed normal and intelligent and everything he should be looking for.
If he had half a brain, he would pull an emergency Band-Aid out of his wallet and scribble his number on the back.
“Speaking of Mommy,” he said, “we should probably get moving.”
Seemed his brain wasn’t ready to move on.
Neither was the rest of him.
* * *
“SLIDE DOWN, PLEASE.”
At the doctor’s words, Heather gritted her teeth and scooted farther down the paper-covered table. Someday, someone was going to find a way to make these exams less intrusive and a whole lot less embarrassing, and when that day came, women around the world would stand up and do the Macarena. But until then, they were stuck with contortions, pinching and—
“Feet in the stirrups, that’s right.”
Distraction. She needed a distraction. It would help if the doc had put up some pictures on the ceiling, some peaceful sunsets or those inspirational quotes, but no. Blank, empty ceiling tiles.
Kind of like the way she felt these days.
Which had nothing to do with ending things with Xander, of course. She was just...tired. Run down. The last few weeks had been a roller coaster... The game changing talk with Millie and the million questions that had followed... The second interview, and then, a few days later, the mind-blowing news that she was being offered the job... The teeter-totter emotions that accompanied giving her notice and finishing her time at Duffy Young, all while getting Millie ready for the start of school. Of course she was exhausted. Add in the low-level stomach bug she’d been fighting for the past few days, and yeah. No wonder she felt numb inside.
And okay, maybe it did have a little to do with Xander.
“Let your knees drop wide open, that’s right...”
But things were on the upswing. Yesterday had been her last day at Duffy Young. Today, she’d come back into Ottawa for a farewell lunch with Leah before this delightful—ouch—appointment. She had a long, lazy vacation week coming, and then she would start her new job, which would be an excellent time to press Hank about his decision. Nothing but good times ahead.
“Heather, when was your last—Hang on, it’s here on your paperwork.”
Except she still missed Xander.
She missed having someone to laugh with. Collaborate with. That feeling she had an ally. She missed the way she felt...well...safe with him. Like he understood so much about her that she didn’t need to explain. That he understood all about messing up, and all about rebuilding. That he could see past her worries and mistakes to the real her, the part that still dared to hope and dream even when the world shook a judgmental finger at her.
And yeah, she missed the sex. But she was not going to think about that while lying spread-eagle on an exam table. She would think about...about...
“Oof.”
She hadn’t been prepared for the doctor’s hand pressing hard on her abdomen.
“Sorry.” Dr. Jackson sounded more distracted than apologetic. “I’m just checking... Heather, how long ago did you have your tubes tied?”
Well, that was a weird question. It was all in her chart.
“Uh...almost nine years ago.” It was one of the first things she did after running away. Because one thing that was clear in the mess that was her life back then was that she never, ever wanted to risk messing up another kid, endangering another child.
“Heather.”
Something in the doctor’s voice brought her attention back to the room, to the procedures, to the crinkly paper and the slight ache in her thighs.
And to the melancholy fatigue she’d blamed on life and not being with Xander.
And to the tenderness in her breasts, which she had blamed on PMS.
And to the PMS which, now that she thought about it, had seemed to go on much longer than usual.
And to, oh dear God, that night at the Cline place when she had insisted there was nothing to worry about.
No.
“No. I can’t be...” She looked into the doctor’s compassionate face and swallowed hard. “It’s impossible.”
“Impossible things happen all the time, Heather.” The doctor placed a warm, steadying hand on her shoulder. “But we need to talk.”