Thoroughly confused, but flattered that I kind of made a friend, I nodded back. “Me too.”
“You make sure to come back next week and bring your cuties along, too.” Rae’s eyes flashed as she gave a sweet finger wave to Max before walking back toward the stage.
I sat down, a little breathless, watching her leave. I looked over to Max, his cheeks still in a furious stage of blush.
“She was nice, huh?” I teased and bumped his shoulder.
“Monkey!”
I turned my attention to the stage. The kids were standing in a circle with Jace front and center. They were all jumping around the stage, acting like monkeys. Ryla was right in front hopping from one foot to the other, arms curled, her little mouth pursed. Choruses of “Ooo, ooo, ooo! Ah, ah, ah!” filled the air as kids pounded their chests. Jace was hysterical, jumping around in front of the kids, making them erupt into laughter at his antics.
“Horse!” came a shout from the side of the stage, from the woman that Rae called Sienna. Everyone immediately started to gallop, stretching out their necks and prancing around the stage.
“Sloth!”
The kids immediately stilled, moving in slow motion. Jace, not to be outdone, started an impossibly slow arm stretch. Opening his mouth wide, he let out a long, sliding groan, imitating a slow-motion yawn. I couldn’t help my wide smile as the kids immediately copied him, filling the auditorium with elongated yawn-groans of their own.
“Chicken!”
Conflicting emotions suffused me as I continued to watch Jace. He looked utterly free. Had I ever been that free? Had I ever experienced that kind of aimless joy? That complete inhibition where I was truly myself, open and honest, not caring what I looked like or what others thought of me?
The answer was no. I’d never endeavored to be that brave, to be that fearless.
I had all these strings weighing me down. Grief from my mother’s death, the weight of my father’s expectations, the feelings of failure from my broken marriage, the pressure to provide for my children so they could thrive and flourish. How light would it feel if I could merely snip, snip, snip those strings, letting myself float up and fly free, dancing like no one was watching, or better yet, dancing as if everyone was watching, but not caring what anyone thought?
And then a wall of guilt slammed into me, that I’d even include my children in that thought, that I’d ever think of these two little loves of my life, as strings. I’d always felt a sort of pity toward my ex, who seemed to view our kids as inconveniences. But was I any better? Sometimes I treated spending time with them like a task I had to check off each day.
And though I did feel a certain type of envy watching Jace onstage, it wasn’t true jealousy. I didn’t have any desire to be up there, clucking like some bizarre, carefree poultry. It was the contrast between us. The untroubled appearance of Jace, of every child on that stage in comparison to me. How I’d made myself so very stuck in this life: stuck beholden to my father, stuck being the parent and person I was—versus the person I wanted to be.
But really, what would I do, if I could do anything—beanyone? The weight of this question knocked the wind out of me for a moment, making it difficult to breathe.
I tapped Max on the shoulder, praying to the Lord, herself, that Max would let me go to the bathroom by myself. Luckily, he’d begun reading his book and nodded his head, allowing me to go to the bathroom in peace.
Harsh automatic lights blinked on when I walked into the bathroom. Leaning on the sink, heart pounding, I tried to slow my breathing.
If I were braver, stronger, what would I do? Who would I be? What was I waiting for?
I’d never dared to ask myself those questions before, I was too afraid of the answers and the inevitable disappointment that would follow.
Footsteps in the hallway prompted me to immediately start washing my hands, lest anyone come in and see me leaning on the sink. Albertons always act appropriately in public. Albertons always do and say the right thing, even if they don’t mean it. Albertons do not have goddamned epiphanies in the high school girl’s bathroom.
Before I left, I dared a glance in the mirror. Staring into the green eyes of my mother, feeling like she was here with me, really here with me, guiding me, for the first time since her death.
When are you going to start figuring it out, Polly?
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
JACE
And I've never wanted to be someone's someone. But damn do I want to be her everything.
Ginger Scott,How We Deal with Gravity
“Listen up team. I’ve got some exciting news for this Friday morning. I just found a brand-new box of Honey Nut Cheerios that wasn’t expired in the back of the pantry, so we’re all set for the next week. And, the forecast has spoken: there is no rain for the next three glorious days, so we can finally use that pool out back and go swimming. Who’s excited?!”
“Me, me, me!” Ryla jumped up and down in front of a line of ten stuffed animals, all of whom she’d been instructing in a rousing game of school in the living room.
“That’s the kind of enthusiasm I like to see!” I pointed at her, then glanced at Max, who didn’t respond. He was playing a video game.
