a woman around to keep under his thumb. Because my condition had been that I would not return home. I’d made him promise to let me go, to finally allow me to have a life of my own. It was all I’d ever wanted.
Before.
I don’t know what happened or why I allowed myself to believe that I’d be able to make peace with the adoption. Maybe my father’s repeated reminders that my brother and Ginny were far more prepared to be parents influenced me. Maybe I believed what he said about me. The truth is that I’m a coward. I’m too scared to strike out on my own. I have no way to pay the astronomical cost of her private birth and care. No money to put a roof over our heads. And I doubt a single twenty something with a newborn is a hot commodity on the job market, even if I could score a work visa.
“Go to sleep!” I scream into the pillow, wishing my brain had an on-off switch.
This is becoming my favorite game, remembering all the mistakes I’ve made and then running through all the rationalizations I’ve been forced to adopt. Every time I play it—which is pretty much any time I try to go to sleep—I lose. I always find myself here with a hollow pit inside me filling with tears. Because I can remember and I can rationalize, but I have no idea how to let her go.
I’m running out of time to figure that bit out.
Eventually my body always triggers some survival mechanism, and I fall asleep only to be woken by Ellie’s mewling, newborn cries. I’m still tired every time. Today’s no different.
“She probably needs to nurse,” I call to Felix. I’m not sure why. I doubt he can hear me over her crying. Throwing off the covers, I pad into the living room to take her and stop dead in my tracks.
Ellie isn’t crying because she’s hungry, she’s crying because my father is holding her out at arm’s length inspecting her. If her fussing bothers him, he shows no signs. Instead, his face remains detached. Felix watches from a short distance, looking exactly the opposite. He vibrates with the same manic energy I feel now like he’s being pulled toward her.
“She has your hair,” he says in a business-like tone.
Unlike Felix, I can’t smother the instinct to rescue her from him. I rush over and snatch her from him, cradling her body close to my chest. “Shhhh. Mama’s here.”
My father clears his throat loudly as if to signal his disapproval of that term.
I ignore him and return to my chair, moving to situate the pillows around me as Ellie continues to scream.
“And your temper, it seems,” he adds.
“You shouldn’t have woken her,” I say. Unhooking my bra, I work to calm her enough to feed her.
“What are you doing?” he asks in a strained voice, turning his back to me.
“Feeding my baby.”
“Must you do it here?”
“Where would you like me to do it? Buckingham Palace?” I snap, frustration getting the better of me. I don’t have the time or interest to assuage his fragile masculinity—not until I finally get her to latch on.
He peeks over his shoulder but quickly returns to his studious observation of the opposite wall. “Perhaps, you could cover up?”
“I’m fine. Thank you.” There’s no way that I’m going to let him make me feel guilty about this. I might have made some mistakes, but taking care of her isn’t one of them. I continue to nurse her.
“Would you like some tea?” Felix asks carefully.
“Surely you have something stronger than tea,” my father responds.
“We don’t have anything,” I tell him.
“What?” He finally turns around like he needs to see the words coming from my own lips.
“I just had a baby,” I say. “I haven’t been stocking the bar.”
“But you knew you would have company. It’s the proper thing to do. Your mother would never have been so thoughtless.”
This is the new weapon in my father’s arsenal: reminding me of how much I pale in comparison to her. He’d utilized it a few times in Valmont, but he’s taken the comparisons to a new level since he found out about my pregnancy.
It takes every ounce of energy in me to dredge up the sugary sweet southern attitude he expects—the one that will keep this encounter from going sour. “I’m sorry, that I was thoughtless. I guess you’ll have to go buy some. There’s a store on the corner.”