Page 47 of Reclaim Me

Tucking my phone into my purse, I take Riley’s hand and give her a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t know what you’re worried about, Nugget, and I respect your choice not to discuss it with me, but I just want to remind you that things only have as much power as you give them. You can decide, right here, right now, not to give any more of your energy to whatever it is that you’re worried about.”

She stares at me with walls up behind those brown eyes I have no idea how to penetrate. I’m acutely aware of Aaron’s presence lingering in the doorway and find myself wondering if right now is one of those moments where I could create space for Aaron in my dynamic with Riley. Ever since he told me he’s felt like I’ve kept him on the outside of things, I’ve been trying to find a moment to show him that I don’t want it to be that way anymore, but he’s been so busy at work, and I’ve been so caught up in navigating co-parenting with Hunter and figuring out my next steps in New Haven, that we haven’t had many chances to turn the desires we voiced in our heart to heart into action.

Maybe now is my chance.

“Isn’t that right, Aaron?” I ask with forced enthusiasm because the integration feels unnatural to me. When nothing but silence follows my question, I glance over my shoulder and find him on his phone. “Isn’t that right, Aaron?”

He jolts, wild eyes flying to my face as he lowers his phone to his side. “Yeah, that’s right, Ri.”

Riley’s brows dip low, expressing just how unimpressed she is with his response, and now that I’ve seen her and Hunter make that same face side by side, I can’t see her do it without thinking about how very similar she is to her dad and how much she’s loved having him around. She even invited him to the science fair, and he promised he’d be in attendance. He called me three different times this week to confirm the time and the address, so I know he’s going to come through for her. Maybe he’ll be able to put a smile on her face.

“Alright, let’s go. We don’t want to keep your dad waiting.”

Just like the first time Hunter was mentioned in our home, Aaron looks confused. He steps back, allowing Riley and I space to pass through the door.

“Hunter’s coming?” he asks as we walk down the steps toward the front door.

“Yes, I told you that.”

A knot starts to form in the pit of my stomach in the time it takes him to respond. I don’t want to argue with him tonight, but if his silence means anything other than he’s so happy that Riley’s dad is choosing to be an active part of her life that he’s actually speechless, then I can pretty much guarantee that’s what’s going to happen.

He waits until Riley is in the car to respond, offering me the excuse over the roof of the car. “I guess I forgot.”

“Or maybe you were too busy on your phone to retain the information.”

“You know things are hectic at work, Rae.”

“Yes, Aaron, I know, but I also know that we don’t have a chance in hell of having the kind of partnership you said you wanted if you’re tuning me out when I’m trying to talk to you about things that matter.”

He scrubs a hand down his face and nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

“Okay, and hey—” I call out just as he’s about to open his door. “I know this whole thing with Hunter isn’t easy for you, but the only way we’ll figure out how to make it work is if we keep talking to and leaning on each other.”

Once again, he nods, and because we don’t have time to continue to flesh this out, I accept the small gesture and choose to move on. The ride to Riley’s school is only about fifteen minutes long, but I was hoping that in that time, she’d find something to be excited about. Unfortunately, she gets out of the car and leads Aaron and me to the gym with the same forlorn look on her face. I’m at a complete loss, but I know there’s nothing I can do but give her the space to work through her feelings, so I follow along quietly, keeping my eyes peeled for Hunter.

I spot him in the middle of the gym, his large framed squeezed in between the small tables where the kids have set up their exhibits. Riley and I came in earlier this afternoon and got her table ready, so we wouldn’t have to lug everything in tonight, and Hunter looks to be admiring our handiwork.

“Daddy!” Riley shouts, the first real smile I’ve seen all day taking over her face as she dashes over to him with her arms wide open.

There are over a dozen fathers in the building tonight, but somehow, Hunter knows that he’s the one being addressed. I marvel at that fact as he turns just in time to catch Riley up in his arms, wondering how he’s grown so attuned to her voice so quickly. I guess it’s a thing parents can just do because I have the skill, too. We can be in a store, separated by aisles, people, and shopping carts, and I’ll still be able to distinguish Riley’s voice from every other child’s.

Certain that Riley is fine, I reach for Aaron’s hand, intending to present a united front when we approach Hunter, but come up empty. I turn around and see him standing right outside the gym door with his phone to his ear. Irritation rushes through me, pulling my face into a scowl that I don’t hide or minimize when I catch his eye. To his credit, he does look apologetic, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ before stepping out of sight, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling like everything I just said to him before we left the house doesn’t matter.

Determined not to let the night be further impacted by Aaron’s job, I make my way across the gym to Hunter and Riley, noting almost instantly how animated she is while she’s talking to him. I should be used to it by now; in the weeks since they met, I’ve seen her like this with him every time they’re together in person or on FaceTime after school. He brings out a side of her that people only get to see when she feels safe with them, which makes me think it’s time to add another name to Riley’s list of trusted adults.

My suspicion is quickly confirmed when I finally make it to them and see Riley pointing her finger in the direction of a little boy a few tables over who has a group of other kids around his display. All of them are looking at my kid with varying, but no less unfriendly, expressions on their faces.

“Ri, who’s that kid?” I ask, placing a hand over hers to stop her from pointing.

Hunter, who was just crouched down to Riley’s level, stands, his face a picture of grim determination as he says. “Her bully.”

“Bully?” I balk, incredulity coursing through me as I look at Riley for confirmation. I’m equal parts angry and sad. Angry because I want to end the little fucker who has the nerve to be mean to my little girl, and sad because she chose to share that information with Hunter instead of me. I make a mental note to ask him how he got her to tell him. Then, I school my features into a mask of calm and bury my feelings so I can focus on hers. “You have a bully?”

“Yeah, his name is Pierre, and he said that I have a boy name.”

“She told him it was unisex,” Hunter adds. “But then he started picking on her for saying ‘sex,’ and now every time he and his friends see her, they call her Unisex Riley.”

I pull a face. Unisex Riley? That’s not even a good insult. These private school kids wouldn’t make it a day in the public schools Dee and I grew up in. Hunter gives me a look that says he agrees with my internal thoughts, and I bite back a laugh because while we both know the taunt is trash, we’re still pissed that the words have hurt our kid.

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