“I kept thinking about how disappointed she must be that I didn’t keep her memory alive. I was so used to putting little pieces of her away, tied up and forgotten somewhere deep inside myself, that I’d stopped thinking about her. It was easier than being sad all the time. But I didn’t realize how keeping it all inside was weighing me down. Since I’ve been back here, all the puzzle pieces of my memory have been set loose, bringing her back to me in bits and pieces. Then tonight, as I sat out here, another little piece of her came back.”
A sad smile curved her mouth, making me pull her tighter to my side.
“She told me right over there,” Polly pointed to the edge of the yard, “that I didn’t have to be perfect. That mistakes can make you feel the most alive. And I forgot all about it. I’ve hidden so many pieces of myself away to forget her, that I’m afraid I won’t know how to put them together again so I can find who I’m supposed to be. And then I feel guilty, because how can I be a good mom, if I can’t even do that? How can I teach my kids to be strong and unafraid to be themselves, if I can’t do the same thing?”
“Are you actually saying you don’t think you’re a good mom?”
She scoffed. “I’m a mother, that’s about it.”
“You’re jokin’, right?” She rolled her eyes at my response. I removed my arm from around her, taking a hold of her shoulders, turning her to fully face me. “Polly.” My voice was soft, yet serious. “You’re an amazing mom.”
She shook herself free from my grasp. “I’m not looking for fake praise.”
“It’s not fake praise. Your kids love you. You’ve sacrificed everything for them. You’re trying to be a mother and a father to them, thanks to your asshole ex, and now you’re back home in a place that has painful memories for you so that you can put them in a good school, in a stable home, with good people around you. They feel loved. Can you explain to me how this makes you a bad mom?”
Polly was shaking her head before I finished talking. “I don’t listen to them. I don’t let them have fun. Max didn’t tell me about his bee phobia and worse, I didn’t even notice.”
“Do you know how much I kept from my momma growing up? This won’t be the first time your kids keep the truth from you.”
Polly tipped her head back, giving a little groan. “I know. But they need someone who’s fun. I never do anything fun. I had so much fun with my mom. I’m not making those memories with my kids. How can I if I’m not even a fun person? Someone who’s unafraid to make mistakes? They don’t need a mom who’s essentially turned herself into this perfectionist robot. My name might as well be Barry.”
I chuckled at that and shifted, sitting shoulder to shoulder with her, an idea taking shape like the black silhouettes of the mountains drawn against the starry sky.
“You should make a list.”
I could almost feel Polly side-eyeing me. “I think a list is going backward.”
“Hear me out. It could be afunlist. The list can only have fun things you want to do or like to do. Or better yet, have never done. But they can only be fun, that’s the rule. No sneaking ‘doing the dishes’ on the list.”
“What if I find doing dishes to be fun?”
“Then I guess I’ll start calling you Barry.”
Polly blew out a shaky laugh at my joke. “I don’t even know what to put on the list. Giselle did all the fun stuff with them. I don’t even swim with my kids. I sit on the side of the pool watching them. What kind of mother doesn’t get in the pool?”
“They’re six and ten. I think there’s some time left.”
Poly sighed. “I guess I could put going swimming with my kids on the list.”
“There you go. You’re off to a great start. Now how about something just for you? What about the get together your friend, Leah, asked you to go to tomorrow? I already told you I can watch the kids, that’s no problem.”
Polly sighed, then practically grumbled, “Fine. I guess I could go meet Leah’s friends with her tomorrow.”
“See? Progress already.” I smiled, easing myself back on my hands as Polly turned and asked, “What would you put on the list?”
I tilted my head back and forth, weighing the options. “You could go with the classics, like a hike and a picnic, or planning a vacation.” I saw a flash from deep back in the yard, giving me an idea. “Or you can start small. Wait right here.”
Hurrying inside, I went to the pantry, finding two empty mason type jars with lids. After pounding some quick air holes in the lids with a screwdriver and hammer from the garage that I’d used this afternoon, I pocketed a small flashlight and went to grab Polly. A few minutes later, we were walking toward the back of the yard, a jar in each of our hands.
“Where are we going?” Polly asked, a little breathless as I led her quickly past a set of trees.
“You’ll see.” I grabbed my flashlight and aimed it low at the ground. I put my jar under my arm and slowed a step, placing my hand on the small of her back to lead her to our destination: an old shed at the back of the property.
Once we got there, Polly burst out laughing.
“Oh my God. It looks like a black-market flower sale.”
Behind the shed were all of the flowers, planters, and hanging plants that Sam and I had removed from her yard this afternoon.
