Chapter Twenty

Alexis—

I didn’t think I could do it.

I told Marshall I wouldn’t.

He told me I could and I would.

There was nothing in a handbook to prepare you for sitting across from your ex-husband, the father of your child, both of whom you left. There was no amount of “I’m sorrys” or reasoning to make it rational.

But as Aaron sat across from me at my kitchen table, I knew that I owed him something. I had owed him something even before I left. I wasn’t capable of giving him all of it at once, but I would give everything else I had.

I owed it to him. I owed it to Delilah.

And I owed it to others in our lives.

Leslie, Callie, Marshall, and even Abel and Daniel.

All of them deserved a sense of peace, but most of all, I deserved it, too.

“I could never explain during one breakfast why,” I said, twirling my finger around the edge of my hair. “I still don’t even understand myself. I’m working on it, though, and I can say this for certain. Knowing what I know from Marshall, you and Delilah are getting everything you deserved. The mom, the girlfriend, and the family you all deserve.”

He nodded. “I agree, but I’m sure I don’t need to explain that this…thing…between you and Marshall is less about you two being together and more about how I view you.”

“I understand that. I do,” I said. I pressed my lips together, carefully choosing my words. “But I want it all to end for us now. Today. And I know I have no right to ask you for that or for you to assume I’m asking for you to forgive me. I’m not because you have every right, with every fiber in your body, to hate me.”

He sighs. “I don’t hate you,” he said. “I don’t think I ever did. I mean, God! How could I? You gave me her. You gave me Delilah.”

Tears filled my eyes. “And that is one part I realized a long time ago. My purpose in her life was to bring her to you and then step aside.”

His eyes moved across my face, as he shook his head in disbelief. “God. You seem so…not you, different. You look like the old Lexie, but…”

“Because I am different, Aaron. You can’t do what I did, something that others would think is the most reprehensible, disgusting thing like abandon your own daughter, and not have that profoundly change you. But it was the right thing. You know that deep down. Remove the labels and all of the other bullshit, Aaron. I couldn’t and I shouldn’t have been a mom. You saw it. You knew. And when it got down to the end of it, I had to make a choice. One choice was to end my own life. The other was to leave. You had to have seen how bad it got, how desperate I’d become. It’s why I can say now suicide was my only choice for a while.”

“Shit, Lex,” he whispered, his expression, his voice so full sorrow. “Shit. I knew you were unhappy. I did know that, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.” He paused before continuing. “You were so…detached. I didn’t know what to do. I thought it was everything from postpartum to drug use. And I tried, Lex. I tried so hard to fix it and make it better, make you better. And then you were gone. It was all the unanswered questions, that was what killed me. I didn’t know if I should’ve tried harder, and the guilt of that buried me for years. That you didn’t trust me to tell me the truth. It all fucking swallowed me…for years.”             

He was unraveling, and while it frightened me, I was going to be there because I owed it to him to not run away again.

“But like you,” he continued, “you don’t go through something like that and not come out changed. The anger ate me alive for years, but then Calliope came into our lives three years ago, and I knew what happened between us was all part of some master plan. It took me so long to get there, Lex, and I don’t even know if it came full circle until last night, but I realized where I am, where Delilah is, is right where we were destined to be. You and I? It was never there. We both can say that now, but I could never bring myself to regret because…Delilah. You gave me her.”

Tears of his own formed in his eyes, and it was enough for me to release mine because in all my years of knowing him, I’d never seen him cry.

It was all I ever wanted. Them both happy. They were.

And in the ultimate act of empathy, he was telling me he understood why and that he was almost grateful for it.

Maybe it wasn’t even “almost.” Maybe it just was grateful.

He cleared his throat as he rubbed at his eyes. “I will never not ache or carry around the burden of her not knowing her biological mother. I lie awake at night going over and over in my head how I will explain it all to her because that day will come. I know she’ll want answers someday, and I’m sure when she does so much of the hurt and anger I have for you will be there. But she’ll never know that. I’ll never let her see it because we’ve had to do what was best with what was given. She’ll need to learn that, too.”

It was hard to find enough breath to even speak, but when I finally did, it was something I should have told him a long time ago. “You are an amazing man, Aaron. You are an amazing father. You are enough for her to make up for the fact that her mom isn’t around.”

“But she does have a mom,” he said. “She has one hell of a mom that…holds the bucket when she vomits, and braids her hair, and is making sure she is a good, decent person. She has helped us both find spirit, and laughter, and a bond so profound, I can’t be anything but grateful for that.”

Grateful.

“That is…Aaron,” I sniffled. “All I wanted for you. For her.”

“I’m not going to thank you,” he said. “Hell, I don’t know if I can even forgive you because I don’t think I’ve processed this entire thing yet, but…it happened for the best.”

And there it was.

A painfully beautiful sliver of redemption.

It was like getting oxygen for a time after being without. All my senses seemed to heighten, and my entire body felt weightless. So much was lifted.

And while I knew there was much that I carried, especially about Sadie, that he’d never know, there was one final thing I needed to tell him. Something he had every right to know.

“It was your mom,” I muttered after a long silence. “She was the one that helped me.”

His eyes squinted at me in confusion at first before his jaw slackened. “Wait,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “My mom? She…helped?”

I nodded. “She knew. When the two choices became too much, she helped me. I’m assuming she never told you, and I’m asking you to please don’t be angry at her that.”

I saw no reason to tell him yet about the emails and letters throughout the years with Delilah updates. That was a conversation I was going to have with Leslie first.

We sat quiet, and it wasn’t awkward or painful or anything. It was the building of a reconciliation. There was good, no there was wonderful things between Aaron and I, even aside from Delilah. For the first time in seven years, or maybe ever, I think he knew that, too.  

And then I got my answer to all of my questions and all that I wondered, by having Aaron ask me the one question I never thought I’d hear in my lifetime.

“Marshall and Callie, the two outside opinions that mean more to me than anything, think you should meet her. Do you want that?”

There was only one answer: yes.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I want that, but there is one more thing I need to tell you.”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever else I was going to say. “Go ahead, Lex. Tell me.”

“I had a sister. Her name was Sadie and she died.”

I didn’t wait for him to respond before I began my story. My life story. His eyes were confused at first, but the more I talked, explaining in painfully clear detail, the realization that I was telling the truth began to surface on his face.

He shook his head.

He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it.

Why would he? All those years, all that we’ve been through, and I never told him.

I don’t know precisely when the tears came from either of us. And I’m also unsure when his hand took mine and I sat sobbing onto his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Lex,” he repeated.

Over and over and over again.

And I believed him.

*  *  *

I had it all laid out. I agonized for hours about what to make with her. Without knowing a thing about seven-year-olds and not much about Delilah herself, I was torn.

Would she prefer to make cupcakes or brownies? I didn’t do a lot of sugar cookies and such to decorate, but I certainly could. Would she have wanted to do that?

I recalled one of the last emails Leslie sent me and how she mentioned that her and Delilah had made apple strudel together. Maybe Delilah thought cupcakes and cookies were…amateurish. Maybe she was beyond that and was into pastries or breads. I just didn’t know.

In some ways, this was the most important day of my life, aside from the day she was born, because for me, she was being reborn to me. It was never going to be a mother-daughter relationship. I made that decision a long time ago, and that hadn’t changed. What did change was the fact that the guilt I’d held on to for so long because of it was breaking apart. It was crumbling in pieces like a crushed cookie. It could never be put together whole, but you could enjoy what was left.

I was being given a gift, and what I did fear was that I would do something to ruin it.

“What are you doing?” Marshall asked, entering the kitchen.

I shrugged. “Obsessing.”

“No shit, Al,” he said. He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist before resting his head on my shoulder. “I can’t imagine all the thoughts running through your head. I mean, I’m borderline freaking out.”

“I know this is enormous, but what, specifically, has you worried?” I asked.

He ran his chin against my shoulder, the fuzz from his beard tickling the side of my face. It was oddly comforting. He was comforting. Just his embrace, while so basic, slowed my heart rate. It calmed me. Not completely, but enough to know I could make it through this because he was literally standing right behind me, telling me I could.

“I’m not really worried,” he said. “I know this is beyond huge, you know? But I think what’s fucking with my head is that it’s all come together so amazingly dysfunctional.”

I turned to face him, gripping his hips to bring him in close. “Amazingly dysfunctional, huh? That seems apropos, but a bit confusing. Explain, please.”

His hands dragged up my arms before he slid them across my face, cradling it in his hands. “Aaron, Delilah, and you are the loves of my life.”

There were no words, no expression of emotion for me to reply with. There just wasn’t any that would fit the beautiful ache in my chest; such a new and powerful feeling was radiating throughout my body. I’d never known real devotion, complete trust, and acceptance, perhaps ever in my life. Marshall was giving that to me, and delivering it to me with such reverence, it made me wonder how I would ever be able to give him back what he was giving me.

I pressed my lips against his with a chaste kiss. “You’re my Superman,” I said against his lips.

“And you are,” he said, grabbing my ass and squeezing it, “my insanely hot woman.”

I giggled and pushed him away with a playful shove. “Help me decide what to make with her, please. I don’t know what she likes or what she would think is fun or anything.”

“Well, I’d deviate from the ones injected with booze.”

He couldn’t be serious.

“Please tell me you’re joking and that you don’t think I didn’t already know that,” I said.

A large grin, the one that made my insides and lady bits ache, spread across his face. “Of course I am. I just like seeing you get all serious and offended.”

“You are so twisted and…screwed up,” I said.

“Wicked, gorgeous,” he said with a wink. “And I have no idea what you should make with her. Whatever it is, she’ll have a ball. The both of you will. Promise.”

I gripped the end of my hair that was styled in soft waves and twirled it around my finger. As I went through my mind’s recipe box, my nerves began to take hold again. What if she didn’t like me? What if, for some reason, she figured something out? What if Aaron changed his mind, and it wasn’t going to happen at all?

Marshall rummaging through my pantry brought my thoughts back to the moment at hand and not the what-ifs. I knew what he was doing. He was looking for extra treats.

“Just ask,” I shouted. “Like I’ve told you a hundred times before.”

“Don’t you have any of those doughnuts? The chocolate-glazed ones with the bacon?” he asked.

“The ones with the maple bourbon glaze?”

“Yes!”

“No.”

“No, you don’t have, or no, I can’t have one.”

“Both. I don’t have any so you can’t have any.”

“Fuck.”

“And watch your mouth when Delilah gets here,” I said.

He snort-laughed, emerging from the pantry and closing the door behind him. “You think that girl hasn’t heard my filth since birth?”

“Oh, I know she has. I seem to remember you dropping a f-bomb when you first saw her in the hospital after she was born.”

“Probably. Shit, I wanted one of those doughnuts. Oh! There it is. Make doughnuts with her.”

That was an idea. A simple glazed with maybe a chocolate-dipped top. I had tons of different colors and kinds of sprinkles she might like.

“Hmm,” I said. “That’s probably a good idea. I hope—”

A knock at the door stopped both my words and heart. Looking toward the screen door, I could see Aaron standing on the opposite side, running his hands through his already messy hair, his brows furrowed together, just like he always did when he was stressed.

I turned to Marshall and almost told him to send Aaron away. My eyes pleaded with him because I couldn’t do this, but as soon as I started to process it, it turned. I would do this. I could do this.   

Marshall pressed his hand into mine and gripped it tightly. “You’ve been waiting six years for this, Al.”

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for this,” I said.

I squeezed his hand before releasing it and went to the door. As I peeked from the side of it to get a look at Delilah before seeing her face-to-face, I didn’t see her.

I swung the screen door open, holding it open for Aaron. “Hey,” I said, my eyes scanning the area.

“Hey. How are you?” he asked. “I’m a nervous wreck, and I don’t even really know why. I mean, I know why, but if I am, I can’t imagine what you must be feeling. I just hope that I’m, we, are making the right decision, and all of this is a good thing. I can’t imagine it’s not. I think it’s something we all need, right?”

I smiled. “Yes, Aaron. All of that.”

His head turned, and he waved his hand over his head. “Come on, Delilah,” he called.

Without hesitation, I stretched out my neck into the direction he was calling.

And there she was.

And I almost crumpled to the ground.

She was sitting on my porch swing, her little legs dangling over the edge, and smiling so brightly that the sun was no match for her.

Her hair was longer than any pictures I’d recently seen. Well past her shoulders, it was still that same white blond, with a gorgeous halo of curls.

I couldn’t help but imagine that it’s what Sadie would’ve looked like at her age.

And she was dressed so pretty in a white eyelet sundress and matching sandals.

I think Aaron called to her again, but I couldn’t hear a thing because I was too busy watching her. She hopped off the swing and smoothed her skirt down before skipping across my porch toward me.

She was more beautiful than any picture or any dream I ever had.

She reached Aaron and leaned against him. “Hi!” she said.

“Hi there,” I said, my voice cracking.

Marshall cleared his throat behind me, and I turned to look at him.

“You got this,” he mouthed to me. “I love you, gorgeous.”

“Delilah,” Aaron said, taking in a deep breath. “This is…my friend Alexis I told you about.”

“You’re a baker with a real bakery?” she asked.

“I am. Do you want to come in?”

“Yes!” She turned to Aaron. “You can go now, Dad.”

She stepped inside as Aaron and I laughed at her boldness.

“A little spitfire, huh?” I whispered to him.

“Just like someone else I know, Lex,” he said.

“Uncle Marshall!” she screamed. “You’re here, too!”

She ran right to him, and he picked her up like she was a rag doll, her legs swinging about before he wrapped her in a tight hug. “I missed you, Nutter Butter.”

“I missed you more,” she said.

My past.

My present.

My future.

It was all right there in front of me.

The man who I loved, who saw all my scars and ugly truths and loved me back. If I spent of the rest of my lifetime trying, I could never give him back half of what he’s given me.

The little girl who had made me a mother and made me make the most profoundly difficult decision a mother’s love could ever know, was in my kitchen.

She was in my life.

And she was hugging the man I loved.

It was all right there because a girl and a boy met on a hot summer day at the beach, flirted their way into a relationship, and formed a real friendship. It wasn’t a marriage. It wasn’t love. He was my friend then, my very best friend.

But we created a person that was. She was pure love.

I looked at Aaron, and he had the same expression I was probably sporting, tears in his eyes with a small smile, while taking it all in. It was an overwhelming moment. His head turned toward me, and it was then I knew.

He forgave me.

And I’d found my peace.

“Are you going to stay and help us bake?” Delilah asked Marshall as he set her down.

“Nah. Me and your dad are going to head out for a while and let you girls do your thing, but we’ll be back in a while, okay?” he said.

Delilah shrugged. “Okay.” She turned to me. “Miss Alexis, what are we going to make?”

“What do you think about doughnuts?” I asked.

“Cool!” she said. “I’ve never made those before!”

“Perfect. Okay. Do you know what is the first thing you do before you start baking?”

“Wash your hands,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Yes. So, let’s do that over here,” I said, heading over to the basin sink.

We washed our hands together, and by the time we turned around, the boys were gone.

Time stood still during those two hours as I got to know Delilah.

Her voice and humor.

Her love of comic books and fear of spiders.

How she bit down on her bottom lip when she concentrated on measuring, and the delight in her smile when she dipped the warm doughnuts in the chocolate glaze.

How I knew she loved her dad endlessly by the way she talked about him, and how sometimes she called Callie “Mom” in conversation.

She was all I hoped she’d be.

We were just beginning to clean up when I heard the screen door slam shut. “Hello!” Marshall called.

“Hi,” I said, as the boys began to enter the kitchen. “How was—?”

“Hi, Mom,” Delilah said, licking frosting from her fingers. “Look what we did.”

Mom.

A brief moment of a burst of sadness and grief washed over me, but then a familiar emotion followed…relief.

A strikingly beautiful woman with long auburn hair and green eyes trailed a step behind Aaron. She held his hand tight as she smiled nervously at me. “Hi,” she said in a soft voice to me.

She turned her attention to Delilah. “Those look great, sweetie. You’re going to have to teach me now because I’ve never made doughnuts.”

“Sure,” Delilah said. “It wasn’t hard, and Miss Alexis said I’m a pro, but I told her I already knew that.”

There was laughter all around my kitchen at Delilah’s modesty, but when it settled, I felt a pull to do something that would seal the day with gratefulness.

I approached Callie and extended my hand. “I’m Alexis Bell.”

She took my hand in hers, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m Callie.”

We stood holding onto each other’s hands before I opened my arms a bit, and she stepped into them. I hugged her, the mother to my child, and didn’t know if my heart could even take it.

“Thank you,” I whispered into her ear. “Thank you.”

“No,” she sniffled. She ran her hand down my hair. It was a gentle touch from a girl years my junior, but it was something I hadn’t known in years. A mother’s touch. “Thank you.”