Page 1 of After Happily Ever After
CHAPTER 1
At 5:55, I rolled out of bed and caught my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. That mirror was my enemy. It pointed out all the new wrinkles that had been born on my face while I slept. I was not taking to the idea of aging gracefully … gracefully.
The room was lit only by the glow of the clock. Jim was happily snoring and was no closer to waking up than our basset hound, Theo. I had five minutes before I had to get Gia up for school. She was going to be just as happy to hear my voice as I had been to hear my mother’s when I was a teenager. My feet jumped as they touched the cold, hard wood. Where the heck did I put my slippers? I walked through the dark room, feeling my way along the furniture. I made it past the footboard on the bed, and just when I thought I was safe, I stubbed my toe on the dresser. Damn those slippers! I bet they were laughing at me.
“Gia, it’s time to get up,” I called through the pain. I didn’t feel bad yelling when Jim was still asleep; he could sleep through anything. Hopefully no one would ever break into the house and try to stab me in our bed.
After a moment, teenage mumbling echoed down the hall as sleep escaped her seventeen-year-old body. I shed my pajamas and wondered how the heck thirteen-year-old me had morphed into the body of a forty-five-year-old woman. Like most women, I’d resigned myself to the fact that it was out of my control. Or was it? If I started going to the gym again, I could tone up my floppy belly, my sagging underarms, and my ass that was creasing below my thighs. As I got in the shower, I decided to either give it a great deal of thought or push it out of my mind. I stood under the warm spray, letting it soothe and care for me. I would happily stay here forever.
“Mom,” Gia called as she charged into the bathroom as if she’d been left out of something. Forever was not living up to its reputation. I turned off the water, grabbed my robe off the floor, and wrapped my wet hair in a terry-cloth turban. Her five-foot, six-inch lanky frame dwarfed my five-foot-two compact self.
“What’s the weather like today?” She was wearing a silk shirt that barely hid the fact that she hadn’t put pants on.
“We live in Connecticut and it’s winter. What do you think the weather’s like?” I asked.
“It’s winter right now, but at some point, it’ll be spring.”
“You’ll get a warning. Spring doesn’t really ‘spring.’”
“Mom, you’re so funny.”
“You need to finish getting dressed. The last time I checked, your school required pants,” I said. She rolled her eyes. Eyes I would’ve killed for. She had lush lashes that curled upward, except for a few in the corner that curled down. At my age, my lashes were either falling out or turning gray. Long eyelashes were wasted on the young.
When she ran off, I threw on a pair of mom jeans and a white hoodie and pulled my wet hair into a pink ponytail holder. Someday I’d find the motivation to update my wardrobe. Before making Gia breakfast, I tried to wake Jim up. Not because I needed him for anything, but because it bugged me that he could sleep through all the commotion. I coughed loudly, but he didn’t move. I faked a belly laugh; still nothing. I gave up and went downstairs.
Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting across from Gia, enjoying a cup of coffee while she scarfed down a bagel with cream cheese. She pushed a paper across the table, not noticing the dab of cream cheese on its corner.
“Can you sign this so I can get out of third period and go see my college counselor?”
“If I don’t sign, would you have to skip college and live with me forever?” The phone started ringing, but I ignored it.
“Not going to happen. I just hope I get into UCLA. I want to go to California, where it doesn’t snow and there’s sunshine twenty-four hours a day.”
“If you really believe that, I don’t have to worry that you’ll actually get in.”
“That sounds like something Dad would say.”
“You were blessed with parents with a great sense of humor.”
“I meant it’s annoying that you both make the same bad jokes.” She wiped the cream cheese off the paper and then licked it off her fingers. The phone rang again, but after two rings the person hung up. “Can you just sign this?” Gia asked, holding out a pen.
“Fine.” I took the pen and signed. “You can’t fault me for loving you so much that I don’t want you to leave.”
“Do you love me enough to let me stay home from school tomorrow?”
“Nope, that’s where my love draws the line.”
She took the pen back from me and stuffed it in her backpack; then she looked up at the clock on the microwave. “I gotta go.” She let me kiss her goodbye, and I followed her to the front door.
I watched as she walked across what would be our grass if it weren’t completely covered in fresh snow. Her heavy backpack weighed her down, causing her to stride awkwardly. As she crossed onto the sidewalk, she dropped her lunch, and in one fell swoop, picked it up. I yearned for the little girl who always turned back, wanting to see me wave one last time, but this young woman didn’t give me a second thought.
When I quit my job seventeen and a half years ago to stay home and raise her, I told myself publishing would have to wait. I was sure I’d go back to my editing job when Gia entered kindergarten, but she was such an anxious kid that I needed to be here when she got home from school. And now seventeen years had flown by, and in a short time she’d be gone, and I was going to be alone.
I closed the front door because my fingers were getting numb, but I continued to watch her out the window. When she got to our corner, she walked toward a boy who was leaning against a black Honda Civic that was parked at the curb. I assumed it was her new boyfriend, Jason, although she still hadn’t let me meet him. His dirty blond hair was shaved on the sides and slicked up and over with gel. The style teenage boys wore so they could avoid getting haircuts very often. I didn’t know why he had to drive her when we lived only three blocks from school. Well, I did know, but I didn’t want to think about it. I opened the door to get a better look at him, when he began tapping on his horn. I’d hoped a daughter of mine wouldn’t put up with that kind of behavior, but she smiled at him and got in the car. I could tell he was the same kind of boy I used to go for in high school. The kind that was full of himself. The kind that always broke my heart.
I went back upstairs, and as usual Gia hadn’t bothered to close her bedroom door. Her room was its usual mess, her wicker hamper lying in the corner on its side. Half her clothes were hanging from the rim, the other half scattered on the floor surrounding it. Was it really that difficult to put dirty clothes in a hamper? When she was four, we used to play a game together to keep her room neat. Barney the dinosaur has not been given enough credit for all the good he did in my house.
The next thing I knew, I was singing, “clean up, clean up, everybody everywhere, clean up, clean up, everybody do your share.” After I finished my solo, I realized I’d picked up all her laundry and was now carrying it downstairs. I’d read the books, I’d heard the experts. I knew I should’ve left it and had her do it herself, but those experts weren’t coming to my house and listening to her whine that she had no clean clothes.
