Self-Care Time 
Chapter 8
Self-Care Time
The sound of Lana humming—and Lizzy commanding her to stop by royal decree of Queen Daffodalia—rang through the house at bedtime. I pressed my fingertips into my head and drew in a deep breath.
Patience, I told myself. Patience like Jade probably has when the girls are with her, and she’s becoming their favorite person on this planet.
“Go to bed!” I called down the hall. “You’re going to your dad’s tomorrow after school, and I don’t want you to be grumpy.”
Even though I did.
I grabbed a cup of tea and plopped down on the couch, my old robe tight around me. With my jaw set, I grabbed the remote, sank into the cushions, and turned the TV on. It flickered to life.
I drew in a deep breath.
“Just TV, Bitsy. It’s not going to bite you. You can watch TV for twenty minutes without exploding.”
The fact that I had to talk myself out of panic attack just because I’d sat down to watch TV was an obvious testament to how tightly wound I had become. When had it become so bad? Everything had jumbled together in a timeline of frantic events—marriage, death, an unexpected pregnancy right after marriage, and babies so demanding and darling I could barely hold myself together.
I shoved aside my crowded list with Lizzy fresh on my mind. If TV would help me control myself better, then TV it would be.
When I passed the shopping channel, I thought of Mira, who constantly bought jewelry off of it. Then I scrolled back to watch it.
Maybe there was something to it.
A man in a button-up shirt—with more gold than should be legal for any human to wear—held a glittering display. Silver. Platinum. Emeralds. Opals. Sapphire. Diamonds. I shook my head and kept going.
Nope. Not worth it.
A documentary on the mating habits of elk, a reality show about married rich women in Miami, and country music videos full of tan twenty-somethings and short shorts couldn’t hold my attention. The news flickered past with more political drama.
Had my own, thanks.
I finally stopped on a murder mystery that reminded me of Rachelle. Five minutes into it, my eyes strayed to a light ring staining the carpet. Had Lana spilled something without using the carpet cleaner? That girl … I started to push off the couch but stopped myself.
No.
Self-care time.
I sank back down into the cushions.
“Right. TV. Relax. This is me time, not house time.”
My gaze returned to the TV, but only for a moment. An entire shelf of books had tilted at some point and now slanted to the side. That was a quick fix. Once the commercials started, I hopped to my feet. What felt like four inches of dust came away with my hands when I adjusted the books.
“Appalling,” I muttered, wiping the dust on my pants. “A quick polish will set you up just fine…”
The words trailed away.
No cleaning, Janine had said. She’d been explicit. I growled, then sank back onto the couch, tilted my head back, and stared at the ceiling. Then I closed my eyes.
“This is not stupid. This will work. This is not stupid.”
If I dusted the shelf, I’d feel better. I’d feel like I accomplished something and possibly improved my life and that of my daughters. Who, admittedly, couldn’t even reach that shelf or read those books. My brow furrowed. I’d just spent my entire day working, cooking, providing for them, and spending time with them.
Didn’t that count as improving their lives?
You stopped to take time for yourself, which isn’t productive … came the thought.
“That’s beside the point!” I hissed to the quiet air.
Then I draped my arm over my eyes, shut the TV off, and lay in the silence until the timer rang. With a grumble, I trudged to bed, frustrated, confused, and by no means more relaxed than when I started.
The doorbell pealed the next day.
Lana shrieked. Lizzy jumped off the couch. Both girls sprinted toward the front door and slammed into it in their haste to get there first. Lizzy wrenched the doorknob open with a triumphant shout.
“Got it, Lana!”
Jade grinned at them from the other side. “Lizzy this time, eh?” she asked. “You’re slowing down, Lana.”
Lana rubbed her shoulder. “I’ll get it next time!”
Lizzy threw her arms around Jade’s hips as I stepped out of the kitchen. The smell of homemade burritos in simmering red sauce still lingered in the air. I forced a smile.
“Hey, Bitsy.” Jade stumbled back a step as Lana threw herself into her legs, nearly knocking her over.
“Hi.”
“Sorry Daniel couldn’t make it,” she said, as if reading my mind. “He got caught up at work and didn’t want the girls to wait.”
A flicker of disappointment caught me right in the chest. Nothing to note tonight, I thought. A new calendar sat on top of the fridge, just waiting for him to slip up.
Jade turned to Lizzy with a wink. “But don’t worry! He’ll still be there for the movie tomorrow.”
My eyebrows lifted. “Movie?”
“Dad promised that we could go to the new princess movie!” Lizzy said, her eyes alight. A piece of my heart shriveled. I had planned on surprising them with that next weekend.
“I know you’re going to love it,” I said with a smile. “I’m sure it will be a blast.”
Lizzy let out a breath that deflated her shoulders, as if she were relieved.
“Are we going to start a war, Jade?” Lana asked, craning her head all the way back.
Jade flicked her once on the shoulder, eliciting a deep, adoring grin from Lana. “Of course. Shortly after we get the family pictures tomorrow. We have lots to do tonight to prepare.”
Lana melted to the ground and groaned, and Lizzy leaped up with a squeal.
Jade’s gaze flickered to mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a hint of uncertainty there.
Family pictures?
“Did Daniel tell you?” she asked carefully, then shook her head. “No, I’ll bet not. He wanted to have some professional photos taken after the wedding. I-I hope that’s okay?”
Not for the first time, I wondered what Daniel had told her about the divorce. I met her gaze, unsure what to say.
“He definitely didn’t mention it.” I folded my arms across my chest. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with them taking photos. He was their father. Jade didn’t even have to bring it up.
Still, the image of them posing as a happy family…
She grimaced. “I’m so sorry. I knew I should have just texted you about it, but I wanted to give him a chance to tell you himself. I don’t want to become some sort of go-between for the two of you.”
I couldn’t blame her.
“I’m so excited, Mom!” Lizzy said, twirling in place. She wore a flowered skirt that I’d bought at the discount store last year. It crept up on her calves now, well above her ankles, where it was supposed to hit. She either didn’t notice or pretended not to notice that it was getting too small. My stomach hurt at the thought. The girls would be gorgeous, no doubt, in whatever they wore.
“Are you sure that’s okay, Bitsy?” Jade asked. “If you’re not comfortable with—”
Oh, Jade was good at this.
Really good.
“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m sure that will be quite fun. Definitely do it.”
Lana groaned, but Lizzy squealed again, grabbed Jade’s hands, and twirled in a circle. Jade went with it, singing a song off-key that sounded like an Irish jig.
“I love getting my picture taken!” Lizzy cried.
“I hate it,” Lana mumbled.
“And you get your hair done by a professional hair stylist,” Jade said. “She’s going to come to the house. Oh, and the dresses we found for you are beautiful. We’re going to stop by the boutique on the way home to try them on. I hope you like lace!”
Lizzy nearly passed out. Lana flopped on the floor like a dead fish. Given the opportunity, I imagined she would have crawled into a mud hole and never returned.
Lizzy stopped spinning, her eyes wide. “Do I get to wear makeup?”
Jade hesitated, then looked at me. “That’s up to your mom.”
My heart hesitated. Jade was giving me the power. Yet … how could I say no?
“Ah … a little bit.”
Jade reached over, brushing a lock of hair off Lizzy’s forehead with a tender expression and warm smile. Lizzy returned it. Heat exploded across my chest.
This was worse than I had expected.
Far worse.
“Jade, can you come to my play?” Lizzy asked.
“Your play?”
“Yeah! We get two tickets each. Then you and Dad can come. Mom and Grandpa can have the other two!”
Shock rendered me speechless. She wanted the tickets to go to her dad? What about Mira? Why hadn’t she asked me? I was the one slaving over her costumes, working overtime to make the money to cover the expensive material so she felt like a true mermaid princess, and getting on her to rehearse her lines every night.
Jade glanced quickly at me, then crouched next to Lizzy. “I’m not sure, sweetheart. We may already have something booked for that night. We’ll look into it.”
Jade’s conciliatory tone and the way she tucked her hair behind her ear told me she was lying. She’d come up with that on the spot. Still, the damage was done. Lizzy wanted her father and Jade there. Good thing Daniel wasn’t here. He’d have snatched that right up.
Lana shoved off the floor. “Can we go so Dad and I can pig out on pizza? Can we do pirate night again? Can I drink root beer from the bottle and say argh all the time?”
Jade gave her a nervous smile, her eyes darting toward me. “Drink from the root beer bottle? I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I made homemade lasagna!”
Lizzy cheered, and Lana whooped.
“Mom!” Lana cried. “Jade’s lasagna is the best.” She tugged on Jade’s arm and yanked her toward the door. “Let’s GOOOO! I don’t want to be late.”
Jade stumbled after her. “Sorry, Bitsy. Do you have any instructions for me?”
My head nearly exploded with all I had to say. Family photo? Hairdressers? Lace dresses? Makeup?
Pirate night?
Yes, there was plenty I wanted to say, but I wouldn’t. I still didn’t know why she looked at me with such bright, hopeful eyes. We weren’t going to be friends.
“No,” I said. “No instructions, thank you. Just have fun!”
“Can you give me a second to chat with your mom?” Jade asked. Both girls sighed, then trudged to the porch.
My stomach tightened when she turned to me.
“If, for some reason—like Daniel’s awful habit of losing his cell phone—you can’t get ahold of us and you need to, don’t hesitate to call or text me.”
“Thanks.”
All evidence of ease disappeared from her expression. Her brow furrowed, and the faint freckles on her porcelain skin smudged together.
“Listen, Bitsy, let me know what kind of boundaries you want with the girls, all right? They call me Jade, and I’m fine with that. But if there’s any rules you want to set, let me know, all right?”
My fingers curled into my palm. She was hinting at the possibility of them calling her Mom in the future. Until that moment, I hadn’t even considered it. The thought took my breath away.
“I will. Thanks.”
The intensity disappeared with another smile. “I want to make sure that you and I are speaking directly about those things, instead of through Daniel. I think it’s better for everyone that way. He’s a good man, but I think it’s easier to be direct.”
My nails dug deeper into my palms. I smiled.
“Agreed.”
“Thanks. I’ll call if we have any questions. The girls will be back by nine tonight. We’ll probably pick them up again around seven in the morning.”
“Okay.”
Jade stepped backward and onto the porch, her hair gleaming a bright red as she strode away. My throat tightened as both girls raced to take her by the hand and walk her to the car.
No goodbyes rang through the air. Lana’s excitement over homemade lasagna, however, could be heard by the whole neighborhood. I hadn’t made a pasta dish that extensive … ever.
Jade already had them laughing as she opened the back doors. Both girls settled in without arguing over the front seat—which I explicitly didn’t allow, but they constantly argued with me about. Lana even fastened her seatbelt without being ordered.
When they drove away, both girls were dancing to a boy-band song Jade had turned up on the radio. The gleeful party disappeared down the street as the bass dropped. I retreated into the house.
This is a time for self-care, Janine would say. What can you do to take care of yourself when you’re feeling run-down?
I passed the cupboards full of healthy food, ignored the temptation to check my calorie counter—I already knew I had seven hundred calories for my burrito dinner, which I’d just lost my appetite for—and grabbed my phone. After a quick text to Mira, I snatched my purse off the table and headed for the garage.
Time to take Mira to a movie.
The heady smell of popcorn and melted butter filled my nose.
There wasn’t much I missed about junk food—except maybe the delicious zest of sugar—but if I had to narrow down my three favorite splurges, movie-style popcorn was at the very top of the list. Along with soft-serve ice cream and bananas foster.
For a moment, I toyed with a dangerous thought: should I buy a small tub of popcorn?
No.
I chuckled, shaking my head. What would people in the forums say on my calorie-counting app? They always looked at my menus and saw me as a leader.
Sometimes I had the craziest ideas.
“This place smells the way I want the inside of my casket to smell.” Mira sucked in a deep breath. “Popcorn for eternity. I’m going to talk to my pastor about it and put it in my will.”
I laughed.
A pimply teenager handed our movie tickets back to us. He tossed his long, greasy hair out of his face with a jerk of his head, jabbing his finger down the hall.
“Second theater on your left.”
Two kids raced by and ducked into a theater on the right. I watched them go, wondering what Lana and Lizzy were doing. Were the photos underway? No, that would be tomorrow. Daniel had probably bought them a puppy. No, Jade probably bought them a puppy while showering glitter from her fingertips. I grimaced. If a puppy ever entered the picture, the girls would have to keep it there.
The havoc and hair weren’t worth it.
“I need to go check on my brother again next week,” Mira said. “I’m going to miss the next meeting.”
“Everything okay?”
She frowned. “Not sure. More heart issues. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
“What about the store?”
“I’ll close it until I return. Traffic has been slow, anyway. We don’t have any vacuum or sewing machine repairs in right now. I’m so excited about this movie.” She reached into her oversized purse. “I’ve heard only amazing things about Stephanie James.”
“I’ve never heard of her.”
“A Breath Away is one of her first blockbuster films,” she said, eyes narrowed on the board above the snacks. “Although she’s done many others. I’ve been eating really good today so that I could have a little treat and enjoy myself, so no judging.”
“I thought you weren’t calorie counting.”
“I’m not. And that tub of popcorn just called my name.”
I groaned inwardly but looked away without a word, although I caught her sneaking furtive glances my way. Mira would test my willpower.
Content to people-watch—what on earth were the teenage girls wearing these days? Lizzy would never even see a skirt that short!—I leaned back, taking in the freedom this evening afforded me. Not to mention that this form of self-care felt a little safer. It was my first time attempting something so blatantly for me since talking with Janine.
Mira returned a few minutes later, carrying a container piled high with fluffy yellow kernels. “Look! I was able to upgrade for free with points! Bargain shopping at its finest.”
My stomach growled.
Just as we turned to go into the theater, a familiar high-and-tight haircut caught my gaze. Jim was passing a movie ticket to the same gangly teenager.
Jim wore a simple t-shirt and jeans tonight. Was he on a date?
No. He seemed to be alone.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to get the picture of him using glass cleaner to scrub his couch out of my mind. Or him standing below Lana, barking orders while she was about to plummet to the ground.
My eyes lingered only a moment before he accepted his ticket and turned down the hall by himself—staring right at me. He jerked to a stop, narrowed his gaze, then walked forward again. I closed my mouth, barely aware it had opened.
“Hello, Bitsy,” Jim said, approaching with easy strides. He gave Mira a wry smile. “Bitsy’s friend.”
Mira’s eyes widened. “Hello,” she drawled. “I’m Mira.”
He accepted her handshake.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Shopping for bug spray.”
Mira snorted. I glared at her.
Jim motioned to his ticket. “What do you think I’m doing at a movie theater?”
“What movie?”
I snatched the ticket out of his hand. He had to be such a smart aleck. A Breath Away. Oh. Same movie as us. I felt ill.
“You like romantic comedies?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I have my reasons.”
“Great,” Mira said. “That’s where we’re going. It’s supposed to be one of the best romances of the year. C’mon. Let’s get going before we miss any good seats. You can sit with us, Jim.”
She kicked me in the back of the leg, but I couldn’t glare at her without Jim noticing. Instead, I passed the ticket back, and the three of us headed for the theater with Mira chattering in the background. Jim walked right next to me. I stepped forward a little bit, coming just ahead of him. He didn’t seem to notice.
He’ll go somewhere else, I thought. He’s not really going to sit with us.
Then my eyes darted back to him. He came alone? I’d never thought about going to a movie by myself. Did people actually do that?
The idea wasn’t half bad, once I thought it over.
“Oh, how perfect.” Mira pointed to three empty chairs right next to each other as we stepped into the theater. “It’s fate.”
Jim hesitated for a beat too long.
Say no! I wanted to beg him. Say no, and spare us both this awkward night.
“Thank you, Mira,” he said instead and headed into the aisle first.
Drat! I wanted to scream. This would be the most awkward movie of my life.
Mira, easily finagling herself so I had to sit in the middle, shot me a wink. I scowled at her but settled into the seat, making sure my arm didn’t touch the rest between the chairs. Jim leaned back, one ankle crossed over his other knee, like a lazy cat settling in. Oh, sure. He would be comfortable despite the tension.
The previews hadn’t started yet, and the voices of other moviegoers buzzed behind us.
“Talk to him!” Mira hissed in my right ear. “You’re being rude.”
“So,” I said to Jim as the lights dimmed. A commercial for the theater flickered across the screen. “Did you come alone tonight?”
“Yep.”
“Do you come to movies by yourself often?”
“Yep.”
“But that takes all the fun out of it.”
He didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “Not for me.”
Hint taken, I relaxed back in the chair. At least he wouldn’t expect me to entertain him. Mira leaned forward, extending her tub of popcorn.
“Popcorn, Jim?”
He reached for it as if they’d been friends their whole lives. “Sure. Thank you, Mira.”
The scent tempted me yet again, but I clutched my water bottle and breathed through my mouth. Halfway back, he paused, dangling the popcorn right in front of me. The buttery scent filled my nostrils.
“Bitsy?” he asked. “A little indulgence for your Saturday night?”
I lifted a hand. “No, thanks.”
“To popcorn?”
“I’m watching what I eat.”
“You can still watch it. Right down your throat.”
“No thanks.”
“Healthy eating takes all the fun out of a movie experience.”
Mira choked on her drink. I pressed my lips together to calm my rising retort—it wasn’t very nice—but I wasn’t entirely successful.
“Not for me,” I quipped back. “And you’ll regret that tonight when you get heartburn.”
He chortled. “I’ve tossed down MREs for two weeks straight, eaten roadkill, and had an Afghani meal with local leaders without using a single utensil. No popcorn is going to disturb this stomach of steel.”
The previews started, saving me from asking him to explain. Surely, he was kidding. No one actually ate road kill … did they?
I crossed my arms and tried to concentrate on a preview for an upcoming thriller. After a few minutes, Jim handed the popcorn tub back to Mira with a smile of thanks. Grudgingly, I admitted he had a rugged sort of attractiveness in an I-don’t-care-about-what-you-think kind of way.
“It’s just popcorn, Bitsy,” Mira said quietly, leaning close so only I would hear. “That’s it. It’s not going to kill you, calories notwithstanding.”
Despite myself, her words rang in my ears. It was just popcorn.
Another preview rolled across the screen. A romantic comedy. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jim pull a package of peanut butter chocolate candies out of his pocket and tear open one corner. He popped one into his mouth.
What a dream.
Without giving myself another moment to consider, I reached over and plucked a few kernels of popcorn out of Mira’s tub. Her eyes widened. She froze. I crunched two of them, staring blankly at the screen. I couldn’t close my eyes to really enjoy the interplay of sweet popcorn and salty butter, but I wanted to. What if Jim saw? He’d think me insane.
Maybe I was.
The popcorn squeaked a little as I sucked the toppings off. Mira, the she-devil, had added just a little extra butter. Just as I’d dreamed it would, the flavor made my knees weak. Daniel and I used to have picnics on our floor when we were first married. A movie, popcorn, sometimes dinner, and a delicious dessert. They’d been magical evenings … at first.
Then the fighting started.
The popcorn crunched as I killed it with my teeth.
“See?” Mira asked. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I opened my mouth to respond when Jim nudged me with his elbow. He extended the bag of candy, brow raised. A challenge lingered in his hazel eyes. A hint of amusement, even. Something in his smug expression made me wonder.
“Well?” he asked. “Are you on a fast from all enjoyable foods, or just popcorn? Because peanut butter and chocolate are the holy grail of desserts.”
For a moment, I was tempted to refuse it simply because Jim had offered. Then I thought about him coaxing Lana down the tree, teaching both her—and me—about her own strength. I’d get a leg up on him one day. Maybe even today.
I held out my palm.
“I can live on the wild side,” I said. “I’ll take one. Thank you.”
He smirked, dropping four in my palm, then four more in Mira’s. Full darkness covered the room as the movie started. I leaned back in the reclining seat, sinking farther into the cushions. One at a time, I ate the four candies. They tasted sweet. Crunchy. Like childhood and parenthood and a few bites of happiness all combined.
Once I finished, I entwined my fingers on my lap and leaned back. Jim shuffled beside me, his arms folded across his chest, the wrapper curled up in the drink rest.
With a deep breath, I turned my attention to the movie and laughed my way through the first joke, relieved.
To: Janine Morgan
From: Bitsy Walker
Subject: Self-Care Day 12
Janine,
I went to a movie with a friend—no children—and had some popcorn and four pieces of candy. It was a rom-com. Honestly, didn’t really like it. The movie itself was fine, but I find happily-ever-afters a bit annoying.
In terms of self-care, it was nice to get out of the house and do something different, although I still stressed about calories and the girls and everything else.
I did enjoy learning something about myself. Next time, I’ll try straight comedy, no romance.
BW
To: Bitsy Walker
From: Janine Morgan
Subject: Re: Self-Care Day 12
Bitsy,
Congrats! I’m so proud of you! Was the movie A Breath Away? I loved that one. Stephanie James has really made a big name for herself. I see the next Sandra Bullock in her.
Interesting about your stress levels. Did you feel you lacked control of your girls, so you thought about your calories? (Something you could control.)
If that’s the case, I want you to start pondering how you can let go of your control of one situation to enjoy another.
Let me know how that goes.
J
To: Janine Morgan
From: Bitsy Walker
Subject: Re: re: Self-Care Day 12
I hadn’t really thought of that. Maybe. I’ll give it more thought this week.
Today, my self-care was sitting on the back porch in the sun for twenty minutes while the girls were with their dad. I fell asleep for some of it. I think naps may be high on my list, and may perhaps extend my self-care time beyond twenty minutes.
BW