Page 4 of Undeniable You

Another thing that wasn’t for the faint of heart: opening a bookshop. I’d known it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, but holy crap. There were so many decisions. So many things I had to consider or think about or worry about. If I hadn’t had the money part sorted out, I never would have done this. The money from Gram wouldn’t last forever though, so I was still being as careful as I could. If I crashed and burned as a bookstore owner, I would not only have failed myself and my grandmother, but my daughter, and I would never fail her. I’d already failed when I’d slept with the wrong guy without protection and that meant she didn’t have a dad in her life. She only had me, and I owed it to her to give her a good life. The best life I could manage.

I wanted her to be proud of me.

When my daughter was asleep, all those worries and anxieties that I pushed aside during the day clattered around my brain at the same time and I felt a headache building behind my eyes.

“Shit,” I said, closing my eyes. I was so tired, and I needed to go to bed, but the idea of moving was so unappealing. Looked like it was another night when I was going to pass out on the couch and wake up with my back hurting. Otherwise known as a day that ended in y.

Somehow, I reached deep into my reserves (bolstered by the sugar in the soda) and levered myself off the couch and stumbled to the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face, and then to my bedroom where I dragged on some pajamas and fell into bed without doing my skincare for the twentieth night in a row. One of these days I’d be the kind of woman who had a skincare routine, but right now I wasn’t. There were a lot of things I wasn’t.

As I crashed face-first into sleep, I couldn’t stop remembering all of them.

I wasn’t necessarilya morning person, but being a mom left me with no choice because my child loved to bounce into my room at the crack of dawn with a full tank of energy, ready to face the day.

“Come here, give mama some of that,” I said, holding the blankets open as she hopped over and snuggled in with me. She was all warm and smelled good from her bath last night. I pulled her into my arms and wished she’d just go back to sleep with me, but that wasn’t happening.

“Mama,” she whispered, her eyes boring into me.

I opened my eyes and looked at her. “What is it, my love?”

“Can we have pancakes for breakfast? With bacon. And strawberries.”

I laughed. “Yes, you can have all of that for breakfast. You gonna help me?” Her eyes lit up. Since Juniper was a toddler, I’d had her help me in the kitchen. It was something I’d done with my moms and I’d always loved it, so I carried on the tradition with my daughter.

Juni wasn’t old enough to use the knives, but that didn’t stop her from asking. Sometimes I worried about how much she seemed to want to use knives, but kids were strange that way.

“Oh yes,” she said, and I laughed. This kid.

“Help mama up,” I said, and she grabbed my hands and yanked me as I pretended she was helping me get out of bed. I yawned as my daughter dragged me into the kitchen and shoved me in front of the fridge.

“I make you coffee, Mama,” she said, getting out one of the pods. I made sure to supervise her while she put the pod in and closed the top. I put the cup underneath the dispenser, but Juni got to press the button to make the coffee. She loved doing that every morning.

While the coffee spilled into the cup, I gathered what I needed for breakfast.

Pancake mix got everywhere, and the berries weren’t sliced evenly because I was rushing, and Juniper spilled juice, but that was nothing special.

I took the deformed and overcooked pancakes, giving the perfect ones to Juni. She had a few food issues that I was keeping my eye on. Nothing major, but she was strict about her food being uniform, and had some texture aversions. The pediatrician wasn’t concerned, but I’d monitor to make sure.

“What are we gonna do today, Mama?” she asked, bouncing around after we’d loaded the dishwasher and she’d helped me wipe down the counters.

Since it was Sunday we couldn’t go to the library, but there were lots of other things to do, and I loved hanging out with my daughter.

“We could go over to visit Nanna and MeeMee. Or we can go to the beach. Or we can go for a walk and then have lunch and read all day.” Juniper loved options, and even if I knew what she’d pick, I always gave them to her.

“Nanna and MeeMee!” Of course.

I laughed. “Okay. Let me make sure they’re home.”

Mom and Mama wrote back immediately that yes, they were home, and that it had been too long since they saw their granddaughter.

We’d been to their house on Wednesday.

We’ll be over in a little while. Need me to get anything?

They said that wouldn’t be necessary and I knew the minute I walked in the door, they were going to be shoving food on both of us and giving my daughter presents and asking me a million questions, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey, why don’t you bring some of your pictures? I know Nanna and MeeMee would want to see them.”

I helped her pack up some of her recent paintings and drawings to take with us, along with all the other stuff you seemed to need when you were taking a kid anywhere. Now that she wasn’t a baby, I didn’t have to bring as much, but I still had a backpack full of crap that I couldn’t leave the house without.

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