But, Charlie was the light I didn’t know I’d needed. We’d had a rough go of it in the first couple months of getting acquainted as I found myself doing everything alone, and once we had gotten a routine down, she’d become my tiny best friend. She’d become theone thing I couldn’t live without and the one thing I continued to live for. I never intended to be a mother, but I was fiercely determined to provide my little girl with the best life I could.
A twinge of pain shot through my nipple and I let out a wince. Looking down, I saw Charlie had stopped nursing and was using my nipple as her personal teething toy. I lifted her upright and righted the neckline of my tank top, standing her on my lap so that we were eye to eye.
“Listen here, little lady. I don’t want to give up nursing just yet, but you need to keep those little piranha teeth to yourself. No chomping on my nips,” I gently scolded, not able to hide the small smile that was fighting to escape, as I watched her eyes crinkle in confusion.
“Ma.. ma..” Charlie cooed back.
“Yes, Mama. Mama’s boobs are not teething toys,” I said, bopping her on her tiny nose.
I walked her over to the portable crib and sat her down on the padded bottom, handing her one of her teething toys and a stuffed dog that made all kinds of obnoxious sounds when you pressed the buttons on its belly, hands, or feet. Charlie grabbed for the stuffed dog and started whacking away on it to get to her favorite sounds.
That would keep her occupied for a couple minutes so I could pop into the shower, rinse off the stench of 18 hours of driving, and get a good scrub of my hair in a shower that didn’t reek of mold.
As I turned on the stream of water, I noted that there were toiletries already available on the ledges. Lifting the shampoo and conditioner to my nose, I popped the caps, taking a quick sniff. Lavender filled my senses, and I sighed. I loved the smell of lavender. Something about it was so calming.
I undressed quickly and stepped into the steaming spray ofthe water. It had been almost two days since I’d had a proper shower. I felt grimy and needed a few minutes just to feel human.
I grabbed the body wash from the ledge and squirted a good amount into my palms, lathering it into rich bubbles. I let its earthy fragrance wash over me and act as a balm for my weary soul.
After scrubbing and rinsing, I repeated the motions to ensure that I had gotten myself sufficiently clean. I did the same thing to my hair, peeking outside the shower curtain into the main area of the room to check on Charlie. She was still babbling away at her stuffed dog and chewing on her teething toy.
Content that Charlie wouldn’t start screaming anytime soon, I took an extra minute to let the conditioner sit in my hair and enjoy the hot water pulsing on my back. As I leaned back into the water, I closed my eyes and allowed the stream to drip down my face.
Despite leaning forward and wiping my face, it became wet again moments later. I let my tears mingle with the water of the shower.
I could take a minute just to feel. Charlie was busy. I didn’t need to be strong right this second.
Leaning my head forward to rest on the tile wall of the shower, I gave myself a second to feel all the emotions swelling inside me. Anger surged through me like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of a forgotten beach. Followed by sadness, the gut churning realization that we were truly alone. Then more anger, a fire burning brightly, flames licking at the edges of my vision, and finally resolution and strength washed over me in a calmness I hadn’t felt in far too long.
I let the direness of our situation flood my mind, threatening to drown me in the undertow. We needed to settle down somewhere, and fast. I couldn’t keep moving from place to place with Charlie. It wasn’t feasible or responsible, and the way to moving on wasn’t to keep moving.
After my debilitating breakdown over our circumstances receded, a quiet sense of peace washed over me. There was something about this small town that felt… right. I couldn’t put a finger on what it was about this sleepy little place that felt a little like home, but I didn’t hate the idea that maybe we had found somewhere to start over.
Even though I’d only been from the side of the road to the local inn, there was an overwhelming sense of security here. I felt an intense pull to this quiet little town that I hadn’t felt in any of the other places we’d stopped.
If anything, that fact that I could sleep for a solid eight hours said a lot. It said that I felt safe - which was a glaringly foreign concept in my life.
I shut my eyes for one more second as I relished in that feeling. It had been a long time since I’d had lived a life not riddled with a choking knot of anxiety threatening to constrict my throat.
I leaned into the calmness surrounding us, realizing that maybe we were destined to stop here. Maybe Firefly Cove wasn’t just a stop over town. This could truly be our fresh start.
It had takenme another 30 minutes to get myself and Charlie up and dressed for the morning. Charlie had foughtme tooth and nail to get clothes on. I was sure the child would prefer to be constantly naked if someone let her. She had alligator rolled around the bed as I attempted to shove her chunky arms and legs into shorts and a tank top.
Walking down the main stairway, my stomach growled incessantly as we reached the inn’s lobby. I heard a chuckle from behind the counter as we walked past the front desk and headed for the front door. Startled, I paused.
“Well, I’d say you two look like you could use a substantial breakfast,” Connie called from her chair behind the desk.
I let loose a shaky laugh, relieved that it was just Connie. She wasn’t wrong. I had been surviving off of energy drinks and beef jerky for almost two days. Thankfully, Charlie wasn’t used to eating much in the way of solid food, so she snacked light along the way.
It still felt a little foreign, laughter. It had been ages since I could relax and not be consumed by fear enough to laugh.
“Do you know somewhere around here I can get some coffee and maybe a bite to eat?” I questioned.
“Try down the block at The Grind. They’ve got decent coffee, but the pastries are to die for,” she said with a sly grin.
Something about her gaze seemed meddlesome. I brushed it off as a figment of my imagination, reminding myself that small towns were full of little quirks and if we were going to stay here, I should get used to it.
My stomach growled again loudly as I nodded. I hiked Charlie up higher on my hip and turned towards the front door to leave.
