Unsevered (11 page)

“It takes time, but you’ll figure it out. A mommy always does.” She kisses James’ head.

I sit on the couch to nurse him while Dan gets my bags and hospital memorabilia out of the car and carries it to my room. I have a bassinet set up in there for James until I’m healed enough to navigate the stairs again.

Mom walks in and looks dead on her feet.

“Mom, it’s been a long couple of days. Why don’t you go get some rest? We’ll be fine.”

“I’m okay. Do you need anything?

“No, Mom. Go. Get some sleep.”

“Okay, honey. Let me know if you need me.”

She makes her way upstairs.

Dan sees that I am nursing and says he is going upstairs to join mom for a nap. He barely makes eye contact. I don’t know why men act so foolish about a woman breastfeeding, but have no problem staring at boobs in magazines or on television. I guess breasts aren’t as appealing if they are functioning for something other than a play toy.

I walk into my room and sit in my rocking chair next to the bay window. I love this house. There seems to be a view of the ocean from every room. Harley knew me so well when he chose it.

I rock at a gentle pace and stare out at the ocean as James suckles the milk from my breast. I never knew that something so basic could be so amazing. To know that I am his primary source of life is such a thrill and honor. I look down and begin to tell him all about Harley. I want him to know who his father was, always.

“James, your daddy was the most amazing man. He would be so proud to meet you and hold you right now, because he wanted a son so badly. I know you will never get the chance to meet him, but I am going to tell you every day how great he was and how much he loved you even before he knew you. I know this because of how much he loved me. You are a gift to me from your father. I’ll protect you with my very last breath on earth. Mommy loves you.”

I sit there for a few more minutes to finish nursing. Then I swaddle him up in his blanket, burp him, and place him in his bassinet on his side.

My hands find the picture frame sitting on the dresser beside me. It holds an image of Harley in his uniform, standing next to his convertible, smiling from ear to ear. He was so proud of that car, but he would have been even more in love with this little guy. I plant a soft kiss on Harley’s face, and place the frame back on the dresser. Then I kiss James on the forehead and run my finger along his cheek. I could stay by his crib forever, just watching him breathe.

My little miracle.

* * *       * * *      * * *

W
eeks turn into months and James has already had  his six-month checkup. He is growing so quickly, trying to sit up on his own and even cut his first tooth. I discovered it while nursing one day. Ouch!

Mom and Dan are still here with me for now. They have been so great. I am really going to miss them when they leave, but I know they have a life of their own to live.

James and I moved upstairs. As planned, I take the room beside his. I love him so much, but I’ve never been a comfortable co-sleeper. Plus, I worry that I might roll over onto him. He seems to be doing quite well in his crib. He began sleeping through the night at about three months old. I’ve been pretty blessed as a mom, from what I hear. He’s a good baby.

Mom and Dan dote on James. They roll on the floor with him and play peek-a-boo until his heart is content. I haven’t heard from Harley since the night I delivered James. I’m hoping that means he’s been able to move on. I pray he’s finally at peace.

* * *       * * *      * * *

I
t’s the day of James’ first birthday party. He took his first steps just two weeks ago. It was an amazing moment for me.

My dad, Susan and the girls, Gretchen, Chelsea, and of course Mom and Dan are all in attendance. The theme is Mickey Mouse. Dan bought him a stuffed Mickey Mouse at the hospital the night he was born and James loves it. He teethed on it when he was younger and carries it around everywhere, even now.

Balloons fill the house. Gretchen carries in a MickeyMouse cake she made especially for him. Who knew she had so many talents? James isn’t concerned about the presents, least of all the clothes. He’d rather play with the boxes and bags.

He ends up getting so much stuff we have to store it in the room downstairs, the one James and I slept in until we moved back upstairs. It’s now a yoga room for me and a playroom for James. He doesn’t leave my side often so I set up a play area with a configure gate on the other side of the room so he can be near me when I work out.

When the party is over and everyone leaves, I bathe James and put him to bed. Mom meets me downstairs at the sofa and asks me to sit for a minute. I know what’s coming.

“It was a great party, honey. James received some wonderful things. You’re a terrific mom to him,” she says. I can hear the ‘but’ coming.

“Thanks, Mom. I couldn’t do it without you and Dan, though.”

“Oh, honey. You’ll do fine. You’re a great mom. Dan and I are always going to be here to support you. And we love you and James. You know that, right?”

“Yes, of course, Mom.” I study her face for a minute. “But …?”

“Well, we feel that you are ready to handle James on your own now. We’re planning to have our things packed and ready to go by the end of the weekend. We need to get back to our home and our life. I hope you understand.” Tears pool in the corners of her eyes.

My tears mirror hers and I will them away so she won’t feel bad. She’s been such a rock for me. I don’t want her to go, but I can’t ask her to keep putting her life on hold for me and James.

“I understand. I’m going to miss you. Thanks for all you’ve done for me,” I say to my rock.

“Anytime, honey. I’m just a phone call away. Remember that.”

We hug and hold each other for a little while longer then she heads upstairs to bed.

“Tell Dan I said goodnight,” I call to her over my shoulder.

“I will. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

I hear her walk in to say goodnight to James before reaching her own room. It’s been her nightly ritual since we brought him home. I know she’s going to miss that as much as I’m going to miss having her here to do that every night.

I take a look around at the somewhat disaster left behind from the festivities and decide to let it wait until the next day. Normally this would drive me crazy because I can’t stand to leave things undone, but I’m exhausted.
Huh, I guess I’m changing already.

I make my way upstairs and sneak into James’ room to kiss him goodnight. He opens his eyes for just a second when my lips touch his skin. He’s getting so big and my heart breaks every time I look at him with that brown hair and those striking blue eyes he inherited from his father. I’m thrilled that they didn’t change color.

“Soon it’s going to be just you and me, buddy.” I stroke his soft hair and plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. He was so tired from the party, he forgot to kiss his daddy’s picture on the dresser earlier—a nightly ritual he began when he learned how to
kiss
(his version of it anyway), a few months ago. So I do it for him.

“Goodnight my little man. I love you.”

* * *       * * *      * * *

T
he end of the weekend comes too soon and Mom and Dan are loaded up and ready to go. We share a tearful goodbye and both of them hug James with rivers pouring from their eyes. Then they drive away, waving to us until their car fades out of sight.

James and I walk back inside to face our new life together.

Alone.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I
’m back to writing again and it feels good. Not that we need the money, between my savings and Harley’s life insurance, we would be okay if I never released another book. He’s even protecting us from the grave. But writing is my passion and it keeps my mind busy, so I want to make sure I keep up with it.

James and I found a mommy’s group in our area and he looks forward to getting together with his friends each week. Time is moving at such a fast pace. We just celebrated his third birthday last week. He’s the new love of my life, though I will never forget his father. I see Harley in James’ eyes, hear him in his laugh, and feel him in his hugs.

I devote two days a week to my writing so Emily, the teenage daughter of one of the moms in our play group, comes here to hang out with James. He loves being with her. They take walks along the beach and build sand castles together, construct forts in the playroom, and she even works with him on his letters, colors, and numbers. Of course, I do as well during our time together, but he seems to have more fun with Emily. I’m glad she has come into our lives. Being a single mom is quite exhausting and challenging.

I often think about how Harley would have loved to teach James how to kick a soccer ball or throw a football. But he’ll never have that chance. I make a promise to myself and Harley that I will find a male figure to fill that void in his life, perhaps a big brother program or maybe I’ll sign him up for soccer. I don’t want him to miss out on those life experiences.

Sometimes my mom and Dan come pick up James and let him spend the weekend with them. I miss him so much but I know he needs this time with extended family. I want him to know he’s loved by as many people as possible. Gretchen and Chelsea are both married now. Gretchen is having her first baby in two months. I’m excited for her. Chelsea’s planning to wait a few more years. She says she wants to enjoy her man before sharing him with a little person. I can totally understand that. I miss Harley so much, but it’s a bittersweet feeling when I think of him now. I don’t break down in tears every time like I used to. Ironically, that makes me sad. But I guess that’s how the grieving process works. I know he would want me to be happy.

I haven’t seen or heard from Harley since James was born, though I often feel his presence around us, and still smell his cologne every time I pass our sign above the door. It’s a comforting scent and I know he’s nearby, protecting us.

* * *       * * *      * * *

T
oday is a bittersweet day for me. James is starting kindergarten. I’ll miss our time together during the day, but I know he needs to start his life. This is how it goes. Of course, he’s independent and stubborn—just like me—and he doesn’t even cry or hold my hand for very long when he sees the classroom. He just says, “Love you, Mommy,” and he’s gone just like that.

I walk over to meet his teacher, Mr. Johnson. He’s a handsome guy with dark brown hair, and stands about six-foot-two with brown eyes. Even through his navy blue button-down shirt, his broad shoulders and slim waistline proclaim that he is fit.

I introduce myself, “Hi, I’m Jewel Decker, James’ mom.”

He takes my hand to return the exchange. His skin is soft and pleasant. It’s been a long time since I’ve had my hand in another man’s. It feels good, warm and safe. Perhaps it’s been too long, because when he smiles at me and our hands meet, I feel an electrical charge, like the one I experienced when Harley and I first touched. Not quite as strong, though. I don’t think anyone could ever again make me feel the intensity of love and passion that I felt for that man.

“I’m Patrick Johnson. Nice to meet you.”

Heat fills my cheeks as I smile and our hands linger against one another’s for a moment too long.

“I’m really excited about James being in my class this year.” He pulls his hand away in a swift motion. I notice him try to discreetly wipe it on his pants to disguise the sweat on his palms I’d felt during our exchange.

“Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. John…”

He interrupts me. “Please, call me Patrick.”

“Okay, Patrick. I’m glad James is going to be in your class. I’ve heard great things about you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Deck..”

I interrupt him this time. “It’s
Miss
Decker, actually. ”
Why did I just say that?
“But you can call me Jewel.”

“My apologies. Are you divorced?”

“Widowed.” This is the first time I’ve had to utter this word in quite a while. It’s not as painful as it once was, thank God. That was a very dark time in my life.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. How long has it been?”

“Let’s just say James never met his father.” My voice is soft but calm. I don’t want anyone’s pity, but I don’t also don’t want to seem disrespectful toward Harley, if he’s listening.

I realize that we’ve been standing here talking for several minutes and the conversation is getting pretty deep, so I cut it short and allow him to greet the other parents.

“It was lovely to meet you, but I know you have other parents to welcome and work to do. I’ll let you get back to it.” I walk over to James and give him a hug and kiss then head toward the exit.

“It was lovely to meet you too,” I hear Mr. Johnson call to me as I’m walking out. A smile is plastered on my face. It feels good to smile because of a man again.

* * *       * * *      * * *

J
ames and I are having his favorite dinner tonight, fried chicken with mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese. I ask him how his first day went and he tells me all about finger painting, eating
pasketti
for lunch, and climbing on the monkey bars at recess. I laugh at his pronunciation of spaghetti.

Then he gets up from the table, saying he’d forgotten about something Mr. Johnson wanted him to give to me.

I watch him pull a piece of paper from his back pack. He hands it to me and it reads:

Dear, Ms. Decker,

I enjoyed meeting you this morning. I think James is going to do quite well in school this year. In fact, I’d like to speak with you about something concerning his academics, if that’s okay. I’m available to meet anytime this week after 3:30 p.m.

Sincerely,

Patrick Johnson

Academics? He’s only in kindergarten. How can he have any issues with academics already? I guess Mr. Johnson sent a note because we really won’t see each other in person until conference season. The school policy is for children to be dropped off and picked up in the car rider line each day after the first day of school. It helps with the transition.

I construct a note for James to send back to his teacher which reads,

Dear, Mr. Johnson,

It was nice to meet you as well this morning. I will walk inside to pick James up tomorrow afternoon. Just keep him with you until I arrive instead of sending him out with the other car riders. Thanks.

Ms. Decker

James and I finish our dinner and he helps me clean the dishes. I love how helpful and thoughtful he is. He reminds me so much of his father. Harley would be proud.              

We finish the dishes and snuggle up on the couch with a movie until his bedtime. I relish our quiet moments together and I’m so thankful for my gift from Harley.

The movie ends and we say prayers beside his bed, a nightly ritual we started when he turned two. James kisses his daddy’s picture in the frame, as he does every night, and then I tuck him in with our special kisses. I’m okay with being second best in this moment.

* * *       * * *      * * *

I
t’s almost 4 p.m. when I tap on Mr. Johnson’s door. He looks up with a beaming smile as if I’ve just told him he’s won the lottery.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was unusually heavy today,” I say.

“No problem. James and I are having a good time cleaning up the classroom. He helped me wipe the chalkboard and dust the erasers. He’s quite the little helper.”

“Yes, he is. I’m glad he’s getting along well in your class. You wanted to speak to me about that?”

He moves closer to me and I take in his scent. It’s a mixture of chalk dust and dry-erase marker mostly, but I can detect a hint of his cologne. It’s not Eternity, but more of a spicy smell. Whatever it is, it’s intoxicating.

“Yes I did. I’ve noticed that James is already quite ahead of the other students with his concepts. You’ve done an excellent job in preparing him for school. Some of my students aren’t yet able to even recognize their own names.”

I blush, “Thanks, education has always been important to his father and I.”

I realize I am speaking about Harley as if he’s still alive, making decisions about James. I clear my throat and shift my eyes to James, who is sitting at the table coloring. I wait for Mr. Johnson to speak.

“Well, I’m worried that the curriculum we are currently studying isn’t going to be challenging enough for him, so I wondered if you’d be okay with me recommending him for the gifted program in our school.”

A tear almost escapes my eye. Harley would have been so proud in this moment.

“Absolutely. Do I need to sign some paperwork or something?”

“Actually, there’s a packet of information I will need you to fill out, then we’ll do some standard tests. It’s nothing stringent, but the head of the program will make the final decision. I think he would thrive in it.”

“Okay, well do you just want to send me a note in James’ back pack again, or do I need to come back here in a few days to sign everything?”

“Actually, I will get all the paperwork together and drop it by your house tomorrow afternoon if that’s okay?”

I think about it for a moment and decide there’s no harm in that plan. I don’t know if it’s standard procedure for teachers to visit the homes of their students, but Mr. Johnson definitely seems to be the ‘above and beyond’ type of educator.

“Sure, how does 6 p.m. work for you?” I question him. “Oh wait, tomorrow’s Saturday. I’m sure you don’t want to work …”

He barely lets me finish my sentence before uttering, “Sounds great. I’ll be there.” He shakes my hand again and I feel that same electric rush when he flashes his beautiful smile. I wonder if he feels it too? I change the subject fast.

“I’ll never understand why the first day of school falls in the middle of the week. It kind of messes up everybody’s schedule.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure why they do that. I guess they don’t want to throw the kids in for a full week right away.” He seems relieved I changed the subject as well.

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr….uh, Patrick.”

“See you then, Jewel.”

* * *       * * *      * * *

S
ix o’clock on the dot, my door bell rings. It’s Mr. Johnson.

I open the door to see him standing there with a single red rose and a folder filled with papers. He’s not dressed in his usual attire of khakis and a collared t-shirt. Instead he’s wearing a nice pair of gray slacks and a plum-colored long-sleeved button down shirt.
Does he think this is a date? If so, I look like crap.

I’m wearing a pair of jeans with a sheer, white, sleeveless blouse that comes just to my hips and a white camisole underneath. My hair is down but not styled in any fashion, and my face doesn’t have a trace of makeup to speak of. I’d almost forgotten he was coming, having gotten lost in my writing earlier today. Not to mention, time just slips away when James is home with me during the day.

We always start our Saturdays together on the beach, building sand castles and frolicking in the water. Then we come inside for lunch and his nap. That’s when I try to get some writing or cleaning worked in. After his nap, my time seems to just disappear and it’s dinnertime before I know it.

“I’m sorry. I completely forgot about you coming by tonight.”

His smile fades as he looks a little disappointed by my statement. It returns with the words I speak next.

“I was just finishing dinner. Would you like to stay and eat with us?”

“I’d love to, thanks.”

He hands me the rose and makes his way into the living room to sit.

I walk back into the kitchen to plate the food and find a vase for the rose.

“Anything I can do to help?” he calls out.

“Just make yourself comfortable and it’ll be ready soon.”

He grabs the television remote and begins to flip through channels.

Since it’s an open floor plan, I can see from the kitchen as James runs into the room and gives Mr. Johnson a hug. It’s quite affectionate, the way I’d always imagined him hugging his father. A tear threatens to fall from my eye but I will it away. Apparently this man has made quite an impression on my son already. This makes me smile.

I appear from the kitchen.

“Dinner’s ready, guys,” I announce, in such a comfortable, natural tone.

“Smells delicious. What are we having?” Patrick asks.

“Grilled salmon, baby red potatoes, and asparagus,” I inform him.