No More 
Chapter 11
No More
Night blanketed the front room in stealthy, low shadows Friday evening. Lana snored from where she lay slumped in the recliner, her chin lolling on her chest. Lizzy breathed deep on the couch, clutching a bright pink teddy bear that Jade had given her. I stood in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen and checked my phone.
Again.
No messages.
“Daniel,” I growled under my breath, then returned to the kitchen. Ten more minutes, then I was going to bed. The clock ticked away on the wall. 9:51. Daniel had either forgotten to pick the girls up, was stuck in a meeting, had lost all his fingers and ability to return my many calls and text messages, or was oblivious to the fact that it was his long weekend with his daughters, who hadn’t stopped talking about going to the water park.
I assumed the latter.
My laptop screen illuminated my face again as I went back to my computer to work, keeping the lights in the house dim. The extra time had given me a chance to catch up—the income would cover the last of the girls’ costumes for the play, which Lizzy had been rehearsing before she realized Daniel wasn’t coming and burst into tears.
Minutes before ten, headlights flashed in my kitchen window. When I peered out, a familiar, sleek car waited in the driveway. I met Daniel on the porch.
He rushed up, half-breathless, a tie skewed away from his neck.
“Bitsy, I’m so sorry,” he said. “It’s been a crazy day with my bosses, and Jade had some appointments—”
“You don’t have to apologize to me,” I said. “It’s the girls who were brokenhearted and crying. They’re the ones who were looking forward to dinner and the waterpark tomorrow with their dad.”
His face fell.
“Crying?”
Coals seethed in my chest, but I forced a measure of calm into my voice. “Lizzy thought you forgot her and that Jade didn’t want her anymore.”
“No! That’s so far from the truth.”
“Jade didn’t answer either.”
“Jade is back in California for … a little bit. I was stuck in a meeting.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I tried to get out, but I couldn’t. Crazy boss, you know? I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“The girls will understand that you forgot them while at work?”
“No! I didn’t forget them. My boss is crazy. I can do this really good impression of him that Lana loves. Anyway…”
He trailed off, an expectant expression on his face. I folded my arms across my chest and waited. I could have said something, but I was enjoying the way he squirmed.
He deserved it.
“Listen, I plan on making it up to them, all right?” He attempted to peer into the house through the windows on the door. “Are they still awake?”
“No! They have bedtimes, Daniel. It’s almost ten o’clock!”
“When is their bedtime?”
I fumed, then managed to grate out, “8:00.”
He shook his head. “Right. 8:00. Jade mentioned something about that last time. Fine, then can I come and get them tomorrow morning when they wake up?”
“It’s your weekend.”
I’m just cleaning up the mess you always leave behind.
“Right.”
He reached back and pulled something out of his pocket. Printed tickets, it looked like.
“I’ve already bought tickets to take them to that amusement park a few hours away. If we leave early, we can be there by ten, and they’ll have all day to play.”
“Amusement park? You’re taking them to the waterpark and the amusement park?”
“I owe it to them. All will be forgotten, right?”
“You can’t buy their love, Daniel. They want you, not some stupid trip. Or two.”
He cocked one eyebrow. “You really think they’ll still be sad that I had a work emergency if they’re riding roller coasters and eating cotton candy? The day after they played on water slides all day? C’mon, Bits. I may not have done this full-time recently, but even I know that’s a winner. Kids are resilient. They’ll figure it out.”
I wanted to slap the smugness out of him. I gritted my teeth. He was right on some level. Unfortunately, it was the level that mattered. The girls would love it. Their happy memories would override the trauma of tonight, and all would be forgiven.
“Fine.”
He let out a long exhale, his shoulders slumping. “Great. Thanks. I’ll be by early. When do they get up?”
“Have you never come over before?” I asked in exasperation.
“It might be different!”
“Lana gets up at 6:00, usually. Lizzy at 8:30.”
“6:00 it is!” he cried.
Are you kidding? I wanted to say. I now had to wake up at least forty-five minutes before that—after staying up late to wait for him—in order to get the girls ready and feed them breakfast so he could go play.
Before I could protest, he frowned.
“I’ll get Lizzy up if she won’t wake up for you.”
“I’ve got it,” I snapped.
He saluted with the tickets. “See you in the morning, Bits. Wait.” His arms fell to his side. He lifted one eyebrow. “Something is different. Did you…”
“No.”
He stared at me for a beat, shook his head, and took off, loping across the lawn with an easygoing stride. I watched him go. Instead of my usual rage and annoyance, a moment of inspiration overcame me.
Hold on.
Perhaps this was my chance.
My chance to let Daniel run the full gauntlet of parenting. To understand what it was really like. He wanted to be the good guy and the dad? Let him try. I’d stop protecting his time with them so carefully and let him be the dad.
And see how that worked out.
With a little spring in my step, I went back inside, carried the girls to bed, tucked them in, made a note of his missed appearance in the calendar, added a few quotes of what he’d said, and went to bed giddy.
I couldn’t wait until morning.
To: Janine Morgan
From: Bitsy Walker
Subject: Self-Care Day 26
Janine,
Today I downloaded a candy game on my phone that Mira swears by and played for twenty minutes. I can see the appeal but didn’t really feel better by the end.
—BW
To: Bitsy Walker
From: Janine Morgan
Subject: Re: Self-Care Day 26
Ah, yes. The addictiveness of phone games. I suggest you not try any further lest it does draw you in. Unless, of course, it brings you joy and fills you when you’re empty. :)
J
To: Janine Morgan
From: Bitsy Walker
Subject: Re: re: Self-Care Day 26
I wanted it to, but it didn’t. I’ll chalk it up on my no list. I also tried to make lasagna yesterday, and Lana loved it. That felt good. Up next is watercolors, but not with the cheap ones.
—BW
To: Bitsy Walker
From: Janine Morgan
Subject: Re: re: re: Self-Care Day 26
Watercolors? I am impressed. Can’t wait for your report back on that one.
J
I woke up at 5:15, showered, dressed, started to wake the girls, made some oatmeal for breakfast, and prepared two backpacks with snacks, sunscreen, extra clothes, swimsuits, water bottles, and papers with my phone number on it in case they got lost. By the time they struggled out of bed—called only by the siren song of water slides—and choked down a couple bites of oatmeal, Daniel showed up.
Twenty minutes late.
I grabbed the calendar and jotted it down as he rushed up the driveway. The doorbell rang three times. I clenched my teeth, sucked in a deep breath, and forced myself to smile through the annoyance. He really wasn’t as responsible without Jade.
“Show him what it really is,” I murmured as I started for the door. “Take three more bites, each of you!” I called over my shoulder.
The girls grumbled but shoveled the oatmeal in as fast as they could. Their speedy recovery from the disappointment was disconcerting, to say the least.
“Hey!” Daniel cried, arms lifted. “Who’s ready for the waterpark? I have a special surprise after that, too. C’mon, I’ll tell you in the car. Ice cream for breakfast, anyone?”
Lana and Lizzy both leaped off their chairs with ecstatic squeals. Before I could force them to finish their healthy breakfast, both girls were in his arms. While Lana attempted to climb up his back and Lizzy show him the triple circle she could spin, I called over the ruckus.
“Before you go, there are a few things that need to happen later this weekend.”
“Sure,” he said. “Ow! No biting.”
Lana cackled, managing to get one arm around his neck and haul herself higher. I shoved a stack of papers into his chest.
“The PTA needs some help with the upcoming play. Volunteer parents to run the booths, help backstage with the kids, and provide refreshments. The meeting is tomorrow at 6:00.”
“PTA?”
“Parent-Teacher Association.”
His brow wrinkled. “What the hel—heck is that?”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I gave a little smile. Oh, wouldn’t the principal be furious when I didn’t show up?
“It’s a bunch of parents who help out at the school. This play is really important to Lizzy, and since you want to take on more responsibility with the girls, I think it would be good for you to go. Be more visible and all that. Ideal father kind of stuff.”
He let go of Lana to accept the papers, but she still clung to his neck. He choked just as Lizzy whined.
“Dad! You didn’t see. I just spun three of them in a row!”
“It was beautiful, sweetheart. Lana, let go, I can’t breathe when you grab my neck. Wait, Bitsy, what is all this?”
“Part of it is the PTA paperwork. Also, Lana has a science project due on Tuesday. She isn’t allowed to cram her homework into one night after putting it off all weekend, so I included the folder with the rubric. It would be much easier if you do it while you have her during the day. They’re always exhausted when they come home to sleep.”
“Oh. Lana, get off.”
Lana dropped to the floor with another squeal.
“And Lizzy really needs to work on her spelling words, so please quiz her ten minutes every day. I’ve included the list.”
“Every day?”
“Don’t forget her reading, either. She’ll need you to sign off on it. The folder for it is at the bottom, along with a few books. Also, don’t forget to help her rehearse her lines for the school play. Lana will want to help, but she’s a crustacean and doesn’t say anything. But she does sing one song.”
He shuffled through the papers. “Where?”
“Go get your backpacks please, girls,” I said. Both darted off. Daniel shook his head, eyes widening.
“Grief. This is like a Bible.”
“That is the new PTA handbook they will also be discussing at the meeting. Far stricter than the Bible, trust me. If you really want joint custody, you should make yourself known at school. They need the help. Oh! And it’ll be your turn to bring dessert, so take something good. No walnuts. Two parents are allergic, and I’d avoid dairy if you can.”
“But … where’s the rest of the science project stuff?”
“It’s all there.”
“No, I mean the project.”
“That’s all she’s done.”
He stared at me. “She hasn’t started?”
“No. It was assigned a month ago. I’ve attempted five times this week, at least six times last week, but she keeps blowing it off. She’ll get a bad grade and then won’t be able to go on the final trip at the end of the year, but she’s aware. She’s choosing to put it off.”
“You can’t just let that happen.”
“She has to learn responsibility somehow. I’ve given her ample opportunity.”
He frowned. “What am I supposed to do for it?”
“You are supposed to help. She is supposed to do it. Consider it guidance, if you will.”
“But we’re going to be playing at the … you know…”
“Good luck! Oh! I almost forgot.” I leaned forward. “Lizzy has a dentist appointment at noon on Monday. She can’t miss—she’s been on the waitlist to evaluate a tooth that may need to be pulled. Don’t be late, or you’ll have to pay half the appointment.”
“But that’s in the middle of the day! We have plans.”
“Sorry.”
For a second, he glowered. Then he drew in a breath and nodded once. “Fine. I got it all. I can handle this.”
You think that, I wanted to say, but I kept my smile pasted on instead.
“Good luck!”
The girls barreled out the door, arguing over whose turn it was to ride in the front seat. Daniel shuffled behind them, head bent over the pile of papers. I leaned against the wall with a smile as their voices faded away. For the first time, I didn’t even mind that they didn’t say goodbye.
With a flick of my wrist, I shut the door, strolled back into my bedroom, and sprawled out on my bed with a delighted giggle.
Now that felt like self-care.
The Health and Happiness Society meeting started late.
While getting snacks ready, I lost track of time in a new Southern cookbook Mira had loaned me. In fact, I’d been standing at the counter looking at the pictures for a long time.
A really long time.
The amount of time I would have expected of Rachelle, who bought baking magazines and made notes on frosting style and cake presentation for her career. Years had passed since I’d let myself really look at food. Appreciate the compelling beauty of a well-placed dinner dish. Glazed turkey. Fluffy potatoes dripping with butter. The pictures of homemade chicken and dumplings, coleslaw, and hush puppies gave me a pang of regret.
Why didn’t I eat that anymore?
It was hard to say. Surely, in moderation, those dishes wouldn’t kill me. Hadn’t Lexie said she used food as self-care—just with prudence and awareness?
Why couldn’t I?
My head popped up when the doorbell rang, breaking my concentration. Rachelle and Mira entered before I could open the front door.
“We’re here!” Rachelle said.
Panic rippled through me when my eyes flickered to the clock over her shoulder. I hadn’t even started up my computer! Lexie and Megan were probably waiting. No snacks were ready, either. Not even an article on some healthy topic I’d found online.
In fact, I had no points of discussion planned at all.
“Come on in.” I waved them farther into the house. Rachelle’s expression morphed into a sly smile. She grinned. Her eyes darted around my head.
“The hair looks even better in person.”
I fluffed it with a hand. “Thanks. I love how easy it is to get ready.”
“Really. It’s … so you. I’m already forgetting what you looked like before.”
Mira’s eyes sparkled. “Give me a hug. You look amazing.”
“Sorry about the mess. I, uh … Lexie told me about this idea and…”
The words faltered as they came out. It wasn’t really messy in here. Not by normal standards, but the lack of organization made it feel out of control. A unicorn book and GI Joe figures were scattered across the floor. Rumpled blankets lined the couch. One drape was half-open. Not to mention oatmeal still on the table, half-eaten.
“Sure, Bitsy.” Rachelle rolled her eyes. “Sooo messy in here. Good thing you never come to my studio. Heaven forbid you go back to my mom’s house.”
“How is your mom?”
Rachelle waved it off. “Let’s not talk about it. To say that progress is slow would understate it drastically.”
“How are you?” I asked, motioning to the couch with an awkward wave. Normally I had snacks out and a paper with the schedule detailed, right to the last minute. Going into it free was discombobulating.
“Not bad.”
Rachelle sank onto the couch, and Mira followed while I scrambled for my laptop in the kitchen. Of course—the laptop was almost out of battery. My lack of preparation was almost criminal. I plugged it into the wall while they discussed a new cupcake recipe. By the time I booted up the laptop and connected the video chat, they’d moved on to discussing a leak in the roof at Mira’s Shop and Vac.
When the video chat connected, Megan was laughing while Lexie glared at her, deadpan.
“I’m telling you, Megan,” Lexie muttered. “Me deadlifting is not sexy.”
“It’s sexy as—”
“Let’s not go there. My butt is…”
“Awesome.”
“Hey!” Lexie cried, seeing me on the screen. “You are literally one minute late. That has never happened before.”
Megan sobered. “We thought you were dead.”
“You’re always fifteen minutes early. I swear. Every time I log on early, you’re waiting. I’ve tested it up to fourteen minutes, which is about as much as I can handle showing up early. You’re kind of freaky, Bitsy.”
“Sorry! I…”
I couldn’t lie. Today hadn’t been a busy day. In fact, it was barely noon and I had just changed out of my pajamas.
“Let’s get started,” I said, spinning the computer around to face the couch. Lexie waved at Rachelle and Mira, then peered around.
“What are you guys having for snacks? Megan and I made bets that it would be a healthy version of Rice Krispies treats, which we’re convinced doesn’t exist. Bitsy would find a way. Probably with her own puffed rice and fake marshmallows.”
Rachelle glanced at my empty coffee table, then at me. Another surge of panic swept through me.
No snacks!
“Nothing, I think,” Rachelle said.
“What?” Megan cried. “No ice water or cucumber water? Ultra-pure popcorn? Is the world ending?”
“You feeling okay, Bitsy?” Lexie asked.
“Fine.”
Lexie’s jaw fell open.
Megan laughed.
“She’s cracked!” Rachelle said. “I knew it.”
“Check her for a fever,” Megan said.
“I haven’t cracked,” I muttered. “I literally just … forgot. Let’s not make this into a bigger deal than it is.”
“But it is a big deal,” Rachelle said. “You never forget.”
“Bitsy, you remembered my anniversary when I had forgotten it,” Lexie said. “That’s pretty intense!”
“Look,” I said, “it’s just a fluke, okay? I … just forgot because I was looking at a cookbook. For … a long time.”
I kept apology out of my tone—I didn’t feel that apologetic. In fact, I felt like champagne bubbles were rising up from my stomach. A giggle came out of me, unbidden.
“Oookay, Bitsy,” Rachelle said. “Now that you’re laughing, it just seems psychotic.”
I laughed harder. Their wide-eyed expressions were so comical, I couldn’t help myself. Was it really such a big deal? Tears rolled down my face. Were they tears of laughter or joy or pain? I couldn’t tell. They mingled, expanding as I let go instead of holding back. Pretty soon, Mira chuckled.
“Have they both lost their minds?” Megan whispered.
“Is everything okay?” Lexie asked. “Have the zombies come?”
I swallowed and wiped the tears from my eyes. Total release swept all the way to my bones.
Self-care, for sure.
“I’m sorry,” I said, then paused. “No. Wait. I’m not. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry at all. In fact, I’m pretty damn not sorry that I didn’t plan the meeting today. Why don’t we just go and do it? Let’s wing it. There’s no article. No planned discussion. No snack. No recipe. Someone, just start. I don’t even care who.”
“And this is how the world ends …” Rachelle sang.
“Sweet,” Megan said. “Go get ’em, Bitsy!”
Lexie nodded. “Yeah, girl!”
“This must be a sign of the impending apocalypse, but I’ve been looking forward to that for a long time,” Rachelle said.
“I’ll go first!” Mira said, waving an arm. “I lost five more pounds!”
Lexie whooped while Meg let out a series of whistles.
I applauded. “Well done, Mira. That’s fantastic.”
She gave me a side-eye. “You’re not mad that I weighed?”
“Not even a little.”
“You don’t like weight as an indicator of health.”
A pang of guilt crept through me. Had I expressed my opinion so decisively that they really did fear me a little? “I think you should do what feels best for you,” I said.
Mira beamed. “It does feel good to see that number going down! Anyway, that’s all for me this week.”
“Someone else,” I said.
We went around the circle in a haphazard fashion—I normally planned the rotation out in advance. A breezy feel overtook the room with an ease that wasn’t present before. I sank into it so deeply that the next words out of my mouth took me—and everyone else—by surprise.
“I have an eating disorder.”
The moment the words flew out, everything quieted. I scrambled for mental purchase through the bells pealing in my mind. Why had I done that? Why did I admit that to them?
They were never supposed to know.
Rachelle’s eyes widened. “What?” she whispered.
Too late, I thought. No going back now.
“Well,” Megan said. “That changed things fast.”
I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. She was right—and I certainly couldn’t leave it there. “I’ve struggled with bulimia since I was twelve years old, when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. When she died, I was fifteen. It got worse. As I grew older, into my mid-twenties, I was dangerously skinny. That’s when I met Daniel.”
With a sheepish gaze, I looked around. They stared at me with rapt attention, unblinking, mouths half-open. Now that the river was flowing, I couldn’t hold it back. The dam burst. What felt like years of teeming emotions flooded the room.
“Sometimes it still pops up. And I … I guess I don’t know why I’m telling you, except it seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Whoa,” Lexie whispered.
My courage faltered, so I pressed on before it failed. “Mira is the only one who knows, aside from Daniel. And that has definitely blown up in my face recently.”
Because I didn’t know what else to do, for the next ten minutes, I rattled off a frenzied explanation about Daniel, Lizzy, and the night Mira found me on the bathroom floor. When I finished, there was a drawn spell of silence.
I swallowed hard. Did they hate me? Were they angry? For as long as they’d known me, I’d represented myself as a … fraud. The leader of a healthy group of women who always maintained control—because I had none. The entire experience felt like a lie.
I would have been livid.
“Do … do you hate me?” I whispered. “If you want to go, I understand. You can—”
“Bitsy, stop.” Megan waved a hand. “Stop, stop, stop.”
“What?”
“We all have issues,” Rachelle said. “Why would we hate you?”
“Because I haven’t told you this yet.”
“We’ve all struggled,” Rachelle said. “All of us. You’ve always been there for us. It’s … actually kind of reassuring to know there’s a weak spot in your facade of steel.”
“Agreed,” Megan said quietly.
“I love you,” Mira said.
Lexie stared at her keyboard, blinking. Her silence made my heart crack.
“Lexie?” I whispered. She looked up, brow furrowed.
“I’m sad you felt you couldn’t trust us … and I’m sad that we missed opportunities to help. But … mostly I’m … so proud of you. That couldn’t have been easy to admit.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“Honestly, I’m not that surprised now that I look back,” Megan said. “The signs were there.”
Lexie gave me a smile. “I’m glad you told us, Bits.”
Mira reached over and put a warm hand on my back. I drew power from her touch.
“Thanks. I-I certainly hadn’t planned that to come out today.”
“The best things often aren’t planned,” Mira said.
Megan raised a hand. “Since everything is unraveling, can I be in charge of the meeting next week?” she asked, then leaned forward. “I want to talk about body-image issues in girls who lift weights. Specifically, intermediates who think they look stupid while doing deadlifts.”
“Hey!” Lexie cried. “That’s so passive-aggressive. I know you’re talking about me.”
“Sure,” I said. The thought of not having to prepare one more thing felt freeing. “Sounds good to me.”
Megan grinned. “Sweet!”
Lexie groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “This is going to go so badly.”
“Hey!” Megan cried.
I leaned back against the couch, a little weak with disbelief. They didn’t care. All these years that had passed—I thought they’d hate me. Resent me. Call me an imposter and a fraud. That they’d never come back.
But now? They joked back and forth, already falling into discussion about whole wheat pasta and chicken pad thai recipes. How much energy had I wasted worrying about what they’d say?
How much time had I spent trying to pretend to be something I wasn’t?
No more, I thought with renewed determination. No. More.