Chapter 15

 The Monster 

For a long time that night, I sat at my kitchen table with a cup of tea—my thoughts scattered like a thousand dust particles. The more I tried to gather them, the more they floated away in gossamer strands.

Lizzy and Lana lay on the couch, curled up with their heads next to each other, breathing deeply. A cartoon flickered across the television, the sound turned low. They’d both nodded off less than thirty minutes after I’d started the movie. Lizzy had cried herself to sleep.

The quiet house unnerved me, even though I was grateful they were asleep. Ugly monsters had risen up in my heart that I didn’t want them to see. If the girls saw the darkness within, they’d understand me in a way I didn’t understand myself.

My laptop glowed, shedding light on the calendar detailing every mistake Daniel had made. It lay before me in damning truth. Instead of giving me confidence, it made me sick to my stomach. In some small way, I had wanted this to happen. Now I just felt ill.

I closed my laptop and leaned back in the chair, head pounding. My tea cooled in the mug as I toyed with the string, replaying every moment of our confrontation in the parking lot.

You never loved me like that.

You never let me.

I shuddered, my eyes closed. He was right. Maybe I didn’t let anyone love me. Not Dad, not Daniel. I hadn’t even told the Health and Happiness Society about all the ugly truth for the longest time.

I didn’t let anyone in.

The phone rang, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. I swallowed hard and answered it without looking at the number.

“Hello?”

“Bitsy? It’s Jade.”

My entire body turned cold. “Oh. I—”

“Yeah, listen, I’m sorry. I know I’m the last person you want to talk to, and I know it’s getting late, but can we talk? Daniel didn’t send me. In fact, he doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d really rather he never knew. I made a promise to him that I wouldn’t get involved with anything between you two, but I have to break that tonight. It’s my fault he was late.”

I straightened up as a pair of headlights shone into my kitchen. Her small, silver car pulled into the driveway.

“Can we talk?”

Five minutes later, Jade sat next to me on the porch, hands in her lap. She stared up at the stars. I focused on the cracks in the sidewalk. Paint frayed on the house to my left, chipping off in petal-sized chunks that littered the ground. I thought of Daniel’s mansion and sprawling backyard.

This house was tired.

“He was late because of me,” Jade said, shattering the silence.

“You were there, Jade.”

“Only because of luck and good traffic. He left a meeting early to join me at a doctor’s appointment this afternoon. At first, he said he couldn’t come with me because he was worried about having to stay late to deal with the ramifications of missing the meeting, but I begged him to come.”

“But how does that—”

“I can’t have children.”

Her lips pressed together once she uttered the words. She blinked rapidly, head tilted back. I waited, uncertain what to say, sensing this would make sense eventually. Jade looked at me, and I got the sense that she had to force herself to meet my gaze.

“I grew up dreaming of getting married, having six children, and settling into old age as a grandma. For years I’ve clung to that dream. Through my first divorce—my husband left me because I wasn’t getting pregnant despite all interventions—and now marrying Daniel. Today, I found out definitively that it will never happen. My doctors have suspected it for some time.” She waved a hand through the air, even though her eyes sparkled with tears. “We’ve been doing a ridiculous amount of testing to try to make it happen, but it was just confirmed today. I will never have kids. In fact, I may need to have a hysterectomy next month.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“Jade, I—”

She held up a hand, stopping me. “Don’t. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault, really. I don’t want apologies or pity or whatever. I just … I wanted you to have all the information. I had to have Daniel with me when they confirmed it because I already knew. Do you know what I mean? Have you ever just sensed something deep in your gut?”

She sniffled and pressed a hand to her cheeks to wipe away the tears. Her voice was thick when she continued.

“Daniel stayed with me afterward and held me while I cried. He was an hour later than he’d promised them when he returned to work because he’d stayed with me. He would kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but this evening, he left without permission to get to the play. Just … left a client meeting to get there. Just after we left the school, he got a call. They’re pulling him in front of a disciplinary board next week and have him on unpaid leave.”

I winced despite myself. Jade let out a long breath.

“Daniel isn’t perfect.” She laughed. “Far, far from it. But I didn’t want him to burn for this one. Not alone, anyway.”

It’s so much more than just tonight, I wanted to say, but the words stuck in my throat. It was about more than tonight. But was it about his ability as a father?

No.

It was about my hatred of his decisions. Of him.

The truth was a bitter pill that stuck in my throat. A metallic taste filled my mouth, as if I’d sucked on a penny.

“Maybe he’s right,” Jade said, lifting her shoulders in a half shrug. “Maybe he’s not cut out for this. But I think he deserves a chance.”

“Why are you with him?” I heard myself ask. “I mean, you know what happened between us. What he did. Right?”

A horrifying thought struck me. She knows, right?

She laughed a little, as if she’d asked herself that, too. But then her expression softened.

“Because, believe it or not, I think he learned something after he cheated on you.” She met my gaze. “I know you don’t believe that he could be truly repentant, and I don’t blame you if you feel like you can never trust him again, but I know how much his decisions have affected him. I know how much he regrets what he did. That’s why he ran away, you know. Like a coward,” she added, just as I thought it. “His shame and horror at being like his dad were too overwhelming for him to face. The two years of couple’s counseling we’ve gone through has certainly helped my confidence in him.”

How would I have reacted if he’d told me in person? Had he been saving me from myself by not giving me the opportunity to vent all my rage and become the monster I felt myself to be now? Or was this really just cowardice?

I would never know.

“I know it may seem as if the girls would be better off without him,” Jade continued, “and in many ways, I don’t blame you for thinking that. But I believe that none of us are perfect, and a trying, imperfect father—that’s been humbled in a much-needed way—is better than no father at all.”

With that, she stood up. The waning moonlight silhouetted her against the oak tree that stretched across the yard. She was tragically beautiful in that moment. My heart squeezed like a fist.

“The decision is yours on Monday, Bitsy. I’m sure you have plenty you could bring against him to keep us from getting joint custody. Just know that whatever you decide, we’ll respect it as what’s best for the girls.”

I watched her go, having no strength to call out after her.

Bitterness churned in my chest in the aftermath of our conversation. I didn’t know how to drain it. I didn’t know how to get rid of the darkness in my soul. Daniel had made decisions that ripped away my happy ending. How could I forget?

No. One possible happy ending. I wasn’t doomed.

I found my phone in my pocket, pulled it out, and texted Janine.

It’s always been about control, hasn’t it? I asked. The bulimia. The self-care. Keeping the girls away from Daniel. That’s what I wasn’t ready to see. Really, I’m just obsessed with controlling every part of my life. When Daniel came back, I felt out of control. That’s the monster I haven’t really wanted to face.

Less than a minute passed before she replied.

I believe so.

I dropped the phone into my lap, buried my head in my arms, and cried.

“Are you ready for the meeting tomorrow?”

Dad sat on the lawn chair next to me in the backyard the next afternoon, a glass of ice-cold lemonade in his hand. Although he wore a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, he still seemed every bit the lawyer to me. The late spring sun bored down with relentless heat. I welcomed the sticky, burning feeling on my skin.

Lana and Lizzy played in the sprinkler on the back lawn. The smell of freshly trimmed grass filled the air. Mowing the lawn, I thought. Burns three hundred calories.

I ignored my phone.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Why not? With what you have on that calendar, we can’t go wrong. He actually missed the play and made her so distraught she couldn’t go on stage.” He shook his head, tsking.

Because I think I’ve messed everything up, I wanted to say, but didn’t have the courage.

Sunlight glinted off the water as it gushed from the sprinkler. Lana and Lizzy hadn’t said anything about the play this morning, but Lizzy had been subdued. Lana had been whacking the tree trunk with her baseball bat more than normal. Both, however, seemed mostly recovered. Daniel had called twice, but both girls had refused to talk to him. I let them decide, torn by the pain in their eyes and the truth Jade had told me.

One day, the girls would understand.

For now, they didn’t.

“What if I’m making a mistake by keeping him from them?” I asked.

“About Daniel?”

“Yeah.”

He leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees, and pulled in a deep breath. “There’s enough evidence we can negotiate with. Not to mention the history of infidelity and subsequent abandonment. He does have a solid track record of visiting and paying child support, though, and moving here certainly looks good on his part. That works against us. I don’t think we’ll lose what we want, however. I know his lawyer. We’ve done several child-custody cases together.”

Daniel’s child support had been my only lifeline while I acquired clients for the new business, but I had never wanted to admit that. The idea of dragging the infidelity back into the light was nauseating, even to me. Daniel’s anguished expression, the deep sense of shame I’d sensed in him the night before, replayed in my mind.

Did it have to keep coming back to that?

Yes, maybe it did. Because everything stemmed from that. Or so I thought. There was no way to know what Daniel and I could have been.

“I mean what if I’m the one in the wrong?” I asked. “Maybe joint custody would be good for the girls. They love him—most of the time—and have become really attached to Jade.”

My throat thickened just saying the words.

He paused. “Can we talk about this as father-daughter? Not as lawyer-client?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you want to keep the girls from him?”

I mentally cast about for the right answer, then realized there wasn’t one. Daniel wouldn’t physically harm them. He wouldn’t deprive them or purposefully abuse them emotionally. In fact, he did love them. Sure, he’d caused them disappointment and emotional distress.

But so had I.

“Do you want me to be honest?” I asked.

“Always.”

The answer came from deep in my belly. “Because I want to hurt him the way he hurt me and never let him hurt the girls in the same way. If I can keep the girls … I’m in control.”

The truth was damning, even to me. It was the first time I’d said it out loud. Hearing it with my ears, instead of just in my thoughts, changed everything.

I’m addicted to control, I thought. I’ve been just as manipulative as him.

“What mother wouldn’t want to? Your girls are young. He has a history of being irresponsible. The track record doesn’t speak in his favor. Sure, you’ve always needed to be the one in control, but in this case? I don’t think that’s a bad thing. They’re six and nine years old. Some judges won’t even award week on—week off custody for those ages.”

Both girls were shrieking as they darted through the sprinkler. The happy sound echoed off the fence. Lana shot Lizzy with a water gun. Lizzy whipped around, grabbed the sprinkler, and chased Lana with it.

“They could end up choosing Daniel over you entirely one day,” he said, giving voice to the thought that ran most prominently in my head. Get them used to that gorgeous mansion? They’d never want to come back here.

“I know.”

“Do you want that?”

“Of course not.”

“Then we have to fight.” Something stricken filled his eyes. “Trust me. There’s no deeper sorrow than losing your children, dead or alive, and feeling as if you’ll never get them back.”

He looked away, jaw tight. I knew we were both thinking about my brother.

And maybe me, too.

“Besides, Bitsy, you and Daniel struggled from the beginning. Surely you remember that. Do you really think that once he gets comfortable with the girls and isn’t trying to impress them, his true colors won’t show? I never liked him, and he continues to prove that first impression. He’s a flake. That is not good for them.”

Memories filtered to the surface. Arguments at night with Dad when I returned home. Stony silence when I announced my engagement. Multiple binges and purges to get through it. Mom’s death had forced responsibility on me, and distance between Dad and I.

“I knew he wasn’t the one for you, Bitsy. I tried telling you, but you were convinced you were in love. You were determined to see it through. So I had to let you go. I had to watch you fall on your own. But you don’t have to let that happen here. You can protect the girls. And you should.”

“I know.”

“Set all that aside for a minute, and focus on just Lizzy and Lana. Would Daniel take care of them?”

I thought of his house. The adoration in Jade’s eyes. The pamphlet for the private school. His report on the PTA meeting.

“Yes.”

“Would they benefit from such an immediate shift to his presence in their lives? That’s a lot to ask of a six-year-old, to bounce from house to house, changing adult figures, neighborhoods, friends. Responsibility for remembering clothes, homework, books. Not only can it be uncertain for them, but it’s more work for you and Daniel. Had you thought of that?”

“N-no. I guess I haven’t.”

“And is it worth it to put yourself through the torture just so he gets something he doesn’t deserve? You put the work into these girls. You’ve sacrificed, loved, and toiled for them every day. I don’t want that discounted.”

My lips pressed together in a thin line. The thought of going days without seeing them—even if they were less than ten minutes away—on a regular basis was intolerable. I would miss out on so many things. They would experience life without me.

Just like they do now without Daniel, came the thought. Is that how he felt? Is that what he feared?

“Yes. It would be hard to live without them.”

“Bitsy, I’m here to support you in whatever you’re doing. Custody battles, divorces, it all gets jumbled together and ugly and messy. This is nothing new. But at least you can do something about it.”

He reached over with a soft hand and clasped mine. “I know this is hard. But you can do it. I know you can. Together, we can.”

I nodded, letting that soak in. More thoughts crowded my mind, a torrent of words and fears that I wanted him to soothe. The way only a father could. But I wouldn’t let him. Just like I couldn’t let Daniel in. Because when I had, bad things had happened.

And I hadn’t been in control.

“Elizabeth,” he murmured, “when you lost your mama, you took over the house and care of four younger children as if you were born to it. Then you gave up college to help me with the kids. I fear that you married Daniel because everything felt so out of control once your mom passed. You’re hurting, Bits. That’s what you’re really doing. And I don’t want to see it anymore.”

A sob bubbled up from my chest.

“I haven’t forgiven him, Dad. Maybe I’m holding onto this as a way to control him. Maybe … maybe I’m obsessed with being in control. Of myself. Of my life. Of everything.”

“Or,” he said softly, “maybe you’re just hurting and scared, and control is a way to not feel the pain.”

A tear trickled down my cheek. He squeezed my hand, leaned forward, wrapped me in his arms, and pulled me close. I cried on his shoulder for the first time since I was a little girl, letting all the dark cobwebs fall free.

It felt like self-care.

The lawyer’s office smelled like leather.

Dad and I sat on one side of a glossy, mahogany table. The slatted blinds were turned down, casting rows of light on the floor. Several ferns dotted the room, splashes of green amidst the expensive oak paneling and padded chairs. Thirty minutes, max, I thought, eyeing thumbprints on the table. I could have this place spotless.

Daniel’s lawyer, a woman named Julaine Harris, sat across from us. She had blonde bobbed hair with gray highlights and an air of sophistication that terrified even me.

Daniel sat next to her. Clean cut, in a white shirt, tie, and black slacks. Strain showed around his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept, even though his hair was perfectly gelled and combed. I probably looked like death warmed over. Jade sat next to him, her hand firmly clasping his. She looked at me with a small smile. I saw no blame in her gaze.

Just fear in Daniel’s.

What is best for the girls, I said. That’s all I want.

“Welcome,” Julaine said. “Thank you for meeting my client and me here to start the proceedings before we have to see the judge. I believe it will save all of us time. Shall we get started?”

She glanced at Dad, who nodded once. Despite the tension in the air, he had an easygoing expression.

“We’re here to discuss the shift from the mother’s sole physical custody to joint physical custody. My client has had an unconventional arrangement thus far because of the constraints of distance. He reports having seen the children once every three months for long, three-day weekends. They would be with him all day and come home in the evening.”

She looked at me to confirm. I nodded.

“Now,” Julaine continued, “we would like full joint custody, with both Elizabeth and Alana staying with Daniel and Jade one week, then returning back to their mother for the next week.”

Dad straightened up. “Let’s be real here,” he said. “One week on—one week off sounds like a perfect arrangement—for a fifteen-year-old. But a six- and nine-year-old? No. That’s too much to ask of them.”

Daniel’s shoulders tightened. So did my stomach.

Julaine’s expression didn’t waver. “I see it all the time.”

“Not with Judge Harcourt.”

A flicker of something appeared in her eyes but quickly disappeared.

“Harcourt has been known to bend her usual rules in the best interests of the children and with parental agreement. I’ve seen her grant joint custody with a one week on—one week off arrangement for children as young as five.”

“With parents that are amicable,” Dad said.

Julaine hesitated only a beat. “Yes, of course. Is that not the case here?”

Dad leaned back, all ease, with a hint of amusement on his face. “There you go. We have plenty of proof that amicability has never been present here, and with good reason.”

“That’s a lie,” Daniel muttered. Jade reached over and put a hand on his arm.

I looked away.

Dad’s eyes darted to Daniel only for a moment before he reached for his briefcase. My stomach twisted. The calendar. I’d forgotten about the calendar. A thousand feelings assaulted me at once. At the time, I’d been giddy to establish proof that he wasn’t a good father. Now? I wasn’t so sure. Hadn’t I binged and purged with Lizzy looking on?

A thousand voices whirled through my head.

He deserves a chance.

You can protect the girls.

Jade might be the girls’ favorite, Daniel might be the fun one, and Grandpa might be the lawyer, but I was their mother. No amount of amusement park rides, elegant bedrooms, and playtime could change that. Dad was right—I had been the one who’d sacrificed and slaved for the girls. The one who, despite all opposition, had brought them to this place in their life. Had loved them. Adored them. Fought for them. I was woman.

They would hear me roar.

“Not only do we have proof of infidelity and abandonment,” Dad continued, “but my client has kept—”

“Stop.”

The word came out of my mouth on its own. Powerful. Certain. Confident. I straightened.

“Bitsy,” Dad murmured, “What is—”

I turned to Daniel.

“Listen,” I said, “I get it, all right? You aren’t perfect. You’ve made mistakes, and you’ve hurt the girls. And me. I remember your father and all the times he ignored you and cheated on your mom. I know you don’t want to be like that.”

Daniel’s eyes softened. I thought back to the haunted expression on Lizzy’s face. The rage in Lana’s. Silence had settled on the room.

“No one can be perfect,” I said. “Not even me. Jade, I owe you an apology. I saw you sitting in the seats right before Lizzy went on stage. There were a few seconds when I could have told her, but I didn’t.” I turned back to Daniel. “And you were right. I did want to prove you a failure because I’m still very angry at you. Very angry. I’m still working through the infidelity and all that it caused. I wanted to make you hurt as much as I hurt. But that’s about me, not about them. On that count, I was wrong.”

Julaine’s eyes widened slightly when I turned to her.

“I’m willing to eventually move to joint custody, but I want it done slowly and on my terms. Regardless of what the future looks like, the past still happened, and Daniel has to earn the trust of the girls and me. Lana isn’t ready for the responsibility that comes with living in two places. She can barely remember to wear underwear. Nor do I feel that Daniel and Jade are ready to full-time parent without some warming up to it. That wouldn’t be fair to any of us.”

Julaine nodded, hands open.

“What do you propose?”

My mind spun. What would I feel comfortable with? “We start with one-night overnight stays on Daniel’s weekend for six months. If that goes well, we can talk about two-night stays for another six months. Eventually, perhaps for longer times during school breaks. I will not have the girls thrown into chaos during the school year. Summer, spring break, and Christmas break we can negotiate in greater detail. I’m fine sharing holidays and birthdays every other year.”

Julaine’s eyebrows rose slightly. Her gaze tapered. “We want joint medical decisions,” she said. “On all counts outside of routine care, but up to and including vaccinations, antibiotics, and emergency situations.”

“Fine,” I said, then tapped the desk with a finger. “But I want a system of my choosing set up for communication. It can’t be just Daniel and me—Jade has to be involved as well. Otherwise, there’s too much opportunity for problems.”

Jade’s eyes misted when I glanced at her.

“At what age would you be willing to discuss joint custody with a week-on, week-off arrangement?” Julaine asked, scribbling something on her notepad.

“Fifteen.”

“Ten,” she shot back.

“No,” I said. “That’s far too young. When Lizzy reaches twelve, I’ll renegotiate. That would put Lana at nine, but I’m willing to see how she’s been doing up to that point. They might be ready. If I don’t feel they are, it won’t happen.”

Dad leaned forward. “You know we’ll get it, Julaine,” he said, not unkindly. “Judge Harcourt always rules with the mother, especially in cases that involve previous abandonment. She’s being more than reasonable here when we have proof that could leave him with nothing more than visitation.”

Julaine pulled in a sharp breath and looked at Daniel. Daniel nodded once, lips pressed in a firm, unreadable line. She turned back to us, glancing at me first.

“Then we accept.”

I leaned back in my chair, feeling shaky. The idea of living for an entire week without the girls still didn’t feel right. Would it ever, though? Easing them, and me, into this new arrangement did.

It wasn’t ideal. Sharing medical decisions made the hair on the back of my neck rankle. I still wanted to keep them all to myself, but that would be about me. Not them.

Besides, I trusted Jade where I didn’t trust Daniel.

Dad and Julaine fell into discussion as Daniel leaned over the desk, resting his elbows on the edge.

“Why?” he asked.

I hesitated. There were so many whys I didn’t know how to encompass all of them.

“Because,” I finally said. “They need a father.”

He leaned back in his seat, blinking rapidly. Jade beamed, lips trembling. Something flooded me. Relief, perhaps. A bit of fear. Maybe some disbelief that it had panned out this way. For the most part, however, it felt like moving on.

Like self-care.

Once the meeting disbanded twenty minutes later, Jade and Daniel immediately stood. Dad, expression unreadable, put a hand on my back, then quietly said, “I’ll give you a minute in the hall.”

He and Julaine remained, conversing under their breath. After I stepped into the hall, feeling better once I was free of that room, I turned to face Jade and Daniel.

For half a breath, Daniel and I stared at each other. I spoke first.

“I know it’s not exactly what you wanted—”

“It’s what’s best. And far more than you had to give.”

To his credit, there wasn’t any animosity in his eyes. Maybe a sense of relief. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

“Bitsy, I can’t tell you how much this—”

“It’s fine, really,” I said, stopping him before it became awkward. “Listen, you’ve been the dead horse I keep beating when anything goes wrong. While you’ve earned my anger, you don’t deserve all of it. I’m going to work on it.”

I couldn’t say the words I forgive you. Not yet. There was still a lot of emotion churning under that bridge. But we had a lot of cooperation ahead of us, and it wouldn’t happen—for the good of the girls—if I still resented him so deeply.

There would be frustrations, disappointments, mediations, changes, and days where I probably regretted letting him into our lives. Dad wouldn’t agree—no doubt he’d tell me as much on the way home. But in the end, I knew that I’d done what was best. The girls would be happy, and a slow integration over the years would be best for them.

And me.

“We’ll need lots of advice,” Jade said. “I think it’s wise to start this process slowly. We’re ecstatic to eventually have the girls sleeping over one night per stay, but we’ll rely on you to tell us how to do that so it’s best for them.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“And the private school is still in our sights, if that’s okay,” Daniel said. “They don’t have to be half living with us to make that happen.”

“Thanks.”

My once-pounding heart settled with a sigh. I felt open. Freed, a little. Another beat passed before I nodded. “Okay,” I said, “well, the girls will see you in a few days. It’s your weekend.”

Daniel winced. “Will they speak to me?”

“If you wanted to stop by, together, and explain what happened, I think that would go a long way. Maybe even a sleepover with root-beer floats would help restore their excitement.”

Jade gave me a quiet smile. “Thanks, Bitsy.”

I smiled, then turned to leave. Letting go of control felt like the highest form of self-care.