been me. This was me. For years. Jason protected me from the full horror of how bad a parent I was. But what if I hadn’t had him? I doubt I would have been able to be present last night in the way that I was. My daughter would have been “fast,” “advanced,” because how else do you survive when you do not have a mother? How else do you survive when your mother is too busy planning her next drink, or binge, to know or care what you are doing, until of course the terrible thing happens, when you wail down the phone and fortify yourself with booze on the ferry over, to get you through whatever pain awaits you when you arrive?
* * *
Annie is home, being looked after by Sam the nurse. Eddie dropped in with an “Eddie” bear that I thought Annie would discard, announcing she is much too old for stuffed toys, but the Eddie bear is squeezed next to her in bed as Sam runs up and down the stairs tending to her every need.
Here I am, at the ferry, to collect Jason. I have parked a little ways up the street and walk down to watch the boat come in, the hordes of people that swarm off. I never understand where all these people disappear to. It is such a small island, but never feels crowded, although every day I see more people arrive. I’m never here to see the same crowds leave.
I’m in a reverie about where people disappear to when I see Jason, and my heart starts to smile, for he looks so very English in his slim-cut jeans and trendy sneakers, his V-neck T-shirt and cool metal aviators. He looks English, and handsome, and I wish to God, oh how I wish to God, my heart didn’t do an involuntary flip. But it does, and I take a deep breath, compose my features into something that does not give away the fact that I still think this man is the most perfect man I have ever seen, and I wave.
“Hey, you,” he says, and he puts his bag down and gives me a hug.
* * *
I could stay here forever. I give myself the luxury of closing my eyes so I can fully appreciate the loveliness of being in his arms again, if only because he is trying to comfort me, comfort himself perhaps, and when we pull away I try to be very matter-of-fact to hide the fact that even though we are divorced, even though he is now very much with the poison dwarf, he still has the ability to make me come completely undone.
“How is she?”
“Happy to be out of the hospital. Worried about Trudy, her cousin, actually, who is still in the hospital, and very much enjoying having Sam and Eddie run up and down stairs and bring her treats.”
“Eddie?”
“Sam’s new friend. I know, we’ve only been here five minutes, but he seems to have lucked out. He brought Annie a huge teddy bear this morning that she engulfed.”
He runs his fingers through his hair as he shakes his head. “I can’t actually believe our daughter was in an accident. You always think these things happen to other people, never to you. Jesus.” He pauses. “How grateful am I that she’s okay.”
“Speaking of grateful, there are incredible meetings here.”
“You’re going?”
“Almost every day.”
“Cat, I’m so happy that you’re really doing it this time,” he says, as we reach the car. “You really are so different.”
“Thanks,” I say lightly, swallowing the lump in my throat, because if I’m so different, if I’m really doing it, how come you still don’t want me?
* * *
“Daddy!” If Annie hadn’t been covered in bandages and stitched up everywhere, if she could have leaped out of bed to jump into her father’s arms, she would have done.
“Bobannie!” It has always been his nickname for her after a childhood song: Annie Bannie Bo Bannie, Banana Fana Fo Fannie, Me My Mo Mannie, Annie! She would make him sing it over and over, giggling hilariously each time, and Bo Bannie, over time, became Bobannie, which became Bob-any, emphasis on the Bob.
“Daddy!” She nestles into his arms, joy exploding out of every pore. I didn’t tell her he was coming, wanted this to be a surprise, and I step back to wipe the tears from my eyes, then go downstairs to make some lemonade.