Page 10 of Kansas Keeper
Once all three are empty, I say, “I hate to break up this little party, but it’s bath time.”
“Aww,” Embry whines, just like she always does until she’s in the tub with all of her favorite floaty toys.
“I was thinking that if I ordered pizza for dinner that it would probably be here by the time you were done in the tub,” I say, knowing that will probably get her moving.
Proving that she drives a hard bargain, my daughter asks, “Pizza for dinneranda double-shot of bubbles in the tub?”
Mara chuckles at our little negotiator as I hold out my hand for the child to shake and say, “Deal.”
Once we shake on it, Embry tosses off the towel she’s been wrapped in, stands up from Mara’s lap, and squeals, “Last one to the bathroom is a rotten egg!”
10
MARA
Ihave no idea if I was intended to be included in the race to the bathroom. Even though I didn’t know the way, I couldn’t resist jumping up and jogging down the hallway with them to join the silly game.
Embry crosses the threshold first and turns back to taunt us, “You’re both rotten eggs!”
“Oh no!” Her father says jovially before lifting his arm to sniff his pit. “Eww… I smell like a rotten egg. Do you?”
I’m grinning from ear to ear as I watch the scene play out, so it takes a minute to dawn on me that I’m supposed to answer.
Embry jumps in and takes care of it for me by saying, “Of course she does. Pee-yew!”
The child waves a hand dramatically in front of her pert, little nose as if she can’t stand the smell emanating from us.
There is no denying how much I am enjoying being a part of their evening routine, but as Beckett smoothly moves to turn on the water in the tub and retrieves bath toys and supplies from the cabinet, I begin to feel decidedly extraneous.
After shifting from foot to foot for a moment as the little girl begins to unashamedly undress, I finally offer, “How about if I go order the pizza?”
“Sounds good,” Beckett says over his shoulder as he tests the temperature of the water and adjusts it accordingly.
I turn to leave as Embry calls out, “Extra cheese and pepperoni, please.”
“Sure thing,” I agree before closing the bathroom door behind me.
I lean back on the door for a moment as I try to gather my thoughts. It’s wonderful to be here, but it’s so much, so fast.
I’ve dreamt of this day ever since I gave up my daughter on the day of her birth, but now that it’s here, it’s a bit overwhelming.
I don’t know how to do this. I have no idea how warm a child’s bath water should be or what time she should go to bed. I’ve never done any of this, and I’m in way over my head.
Thankfully, Beckett is here, and he seems to have things completely under control. But my long-standing dream of having my daughter all to myself someday is starting to feel even more out of reach. I don’t know how to be her mom.
Deciding that the one thing Idoknow is how to call in an order for a pizza, I take care of that and try not to think about my ineptitude in every other facet of motherhood.
Once the pizza order is taken care of, I plop down on the sofa and listen to the happy giggles and songs coming from the bathroom.
Beckett is truly a natural with the child. In this one day, he has completely alleviated any fears I had that she might not be in the best situation. It’s obvious that he loves her with all of his heart, and she is thriving under his care.
It should be wonderful to have that confirmation, but it does make me wonder what I can possibly add to the child’s wellbeing. I had been confident that having me in her life would have to be a benefit to Embry, but the two of them are doing so great that I’m no longer sure if there’s room in their life for an extra person.
I want to squeeze myself in there somewhere, but there isn’t an obvious hole for me to fit into.
The more people who love her in her life, the better, I remind myself, but the squeal of high-pitched laughter that immediately emits from the bathroom proves that Embry’s father has things completely under control.
I had always told myself that if I found out my little girl was happy and better off without the complication in her life of a mother who gave her up for adoption that I would force myself to back off. But now that it’s clear that she doesn’t actually need me, I don’t know how to let her go.
