seeing your daughter... Jesus. Don’t tell me I’m about to fucking relate to my mother.
“Forget it. I need you to go to the store. Here’s the list.”
“Didn’t you buy enough?”
I walked to the bed and leaned down into my daughter’s face. “You are in no position right now to give me attitude, do you hear me? One day, I’ll tell you the story about when Grandmother caught me like this, and you’ll know how much worse this could be. Now, here’s what you’re going to do: get dressed, go to the store, come back and do everything I ask you to do to make this dinner party go off without a hitch. You, too, Joaquin.”
Joaquin was trying to tiptoe out of the room. “Me?”
“Yes. That’s your punishment for trying to get a quick fuck in before coming down and sitting at my dinner table. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why are you so mad?” Logan seethed. “We just had a conversation about this. I guess you lie about everything now.”
I inhaled sharply. “Bathroom. Now.”
I put the toilet seat down and sat. Christ, I needed a drink. Or a valium. Both would be preferable. The last two days had challenged my sobriety more than any other time in the previous year. The pull was constant, the desire mingled with anxiety and fear and hurt and anger, a toxic cocktail of emotions for a recovering addict. I’d texted with Todd regularly and he’d managed to talk me down every time. This, though, on top of what waited for me in thirty minutes, might be too much.
Logan came into the bathroom, and I saw my teenage self in her expression.
“Our conversation the other day? Wasn’t giving you permission to have sex in our house,” I said.
“Oh, so you’d rather us do it in a car at Comanche Springs?”
“Honestly? I’d rather you not do it at all. I’m trying really hard here not to be a hypocrite, to treat you like a responsible...teenager. I meant what I said the other day, but it’s a different thing entirely when you see it. It was abstract before, you know.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I guess.”
“Would you want to see Dad and me having sex?”
“No.”
I stood and took Logan in my arms. “I’m sorry if I’m confusing you. I’m confused on a lot of fronts these days.”
“I’m sorry, too.” After a brief pause, she said, “Are you bipolar?”
I held Logan at arm’s length and heard the doorbell chime in the distance. “Bipolar?”
“You just go back and forth so much lately. Like, right now.”
And here I thought I’d done an excellent job of masking my turmoil. Charlie hadn’t seemed to notice, or he didn’t want the drama that would undoubtedly result from asking. My daughter, though, she saw everything, and she was right.
I was jealous and angry at Nora for fucking someone only hours after sliding her hand up my dress. It told me I was nothing but someone for her to sleep with and abandon. I might have been okay with that until I met Alima. It was the wake-up call I needed. Nora’s life had been a hypothetical before. Coming face-to-face with Alima, her confidence, the air of sophistication that surrounded her, it struck me Alima was the woman I’d intended to be before everything fell apart.
Nora had done it. She was living the life we’d planned, dreamed of, during all our nights together. I wasn’t Alima, could never be her, or give Nora the life she had.
Accepting that life with Nora was out of reach had freed me to focus on my work, my family, my life. It wasn’t the one I intended, but it was the one I had, and I could either be miserable in it or accept it. I’d looked forward to the dinner party to prove to myself, and Nora, of my acceptance of her friend, and her life. I would ask Nora to meet for coffee, make amends, and move on with my life.
The idea made me sick to my stomach, which I grasped.
“Mom, are you sick?”
“No, honey. I don’t think I’m bipolar, just um... I’ve had some news that threw me for a loop.”
“What news?”
I stoked Logan’s hair. “Honey, I love you. You’re the most important person in the world to me. But, there are some things that I want to keep to myself. You have secrets, things you keep from everyone else, yeah?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah.”
“And that’s fine. Really. I’m working through some stuff. I’ll be better soon.”
“Sure. Okay.”
“I