Page 14 of Living for Truth
Hannah:Hmm… I really want to try this place in Salt Lake that is supposed to have the best brunch. But they only have it on Sundays.
Morgan:Are you talking about Silver Spoon?
Hannah:Yes! I’ve also heard it’s hard to get into. And it’d be kind of awkward to go by myself, you know? I don’t know who would come with me.
My good friend, Charlie, works at Silver Spoon, so I know I could get a last minute reservationfor this Sunday.
Would Hannah even want to go with me? It’s a fifty-fifty shot. I’ve been dying to meet her in person, and this is the perfect way to bring it up.
Morgan:You can totally say no, but…
Morgan:I can get a reservation for this Sunday at Silver Spoon, if you’d be interested in going.
Morgan:With me, I mean. Go to brunch with me?
Hannah:Are you being serious?
Morgan:Deadly. I’d love to get to know you in person. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up without being weird, and I think this is as good a time as any.
I watch the text bubble pop up and go away multiple times before she finally responds, and I swear to God my heart almost stops when she says,
Hannah:That sounds great. I would love to go to brunch with you! Just text me the time, and I’ll be there.
Morgan:Hell yes! I’m very excited to meet you in person.
I fist pump the air, proud of myself for taking the leap and so damn excited to meet her.
“Dad, why are you hitting the air?” Alyssa startles me, making me jump a little, which makes Bagel jump to the back of the couch.
“I’m just excited about meeting a friend. Are you ready to talk now?” I pocket my phone, making sure I can give my number one girl my undivided attention.
She nods and sits next to me on the couch. She takes a deep breath before she calmly tells me she’s upset she’s not able to go to the sleepover. She feels like the odd one out in school because she can never sleep over at her friends’ houses. She understands the concern for safety, but she doesn’t like feeling like an outsider.
Her beautiful blue eyes gloss over with tears, and my heart cracks like it does every time she cries. “I feel like a weirdo at school because it seems like everyone in my class has these big, happy families with a mom and a dad and siblings. I love you, Dad, but sometimes I wish I had a mom or sister I could talk to about things.”
“I’m sure your mom would be willing to talk to you about whatever you want, Bub,” I try to placate.
Aly shakes her head. “I’ve tried calling her three times this week and sent her a bunch of texts, and she doesn’t respond. She sent a text that said, ‘Busy! Talk soon,’ and that was it.”
My heart breaks for my sweet girl. My anger towards her mother is usually kept at bay, but right now I’m seeing red.
Whitney has made it clear she has no desire to be a full-time mom, but I never thought she’d brush off her own daughter like that. It makes my blood boil that she doesn’t seem to give a fuck about her daughter.
Aly is going to hit puberty soon, and while I’ve educated myself and have sisters and a mom who are more than happy to help with that stuff, it still doesn’t replace Whitney. If Whitney weren’t in the picture at all, I think it would be easier, but instead, she’s flitted in and out of Aly’s life for years.
The first year of my baby girl’s life, Whitney and I tried to make it work. But we quickly found a romantic relationship between us was not compatible. We tried to live together and co-parent, but I was still playing football at the time, and my schedule wouldn’t allow me to be home to help her. My mom helped where she could, but it was still really hard on Whitney.
When Aly was three, Whitney decided she didn’t want to be a full-time mom and only wanted her every other weekend. That was the year I tore my meniscus and had to retire. I was thirty and planning on retiring after the season anyway. I tore it during a preseason game, so I didn’t even get to play my last season. That wasfine with me because it meant I could be with Aly more. My parents followed us from Colorado to Utah so I could raise Aly with my family. Whitney’s family also lives in Utah, which is one of the biggest reasons we decided to move here. My sisters were already living here, and Whitney and I both wanted Aly to grow up surrounded by family.
Whitney’s family was so disappointed in her for having a baby out of wedlock they refused to even meet their granddaughter. Aly doesn’t know who her maternal grandparents are, and I doubt she ever will.
When Aly turned five, Whitney stopped taking her every other weekend and started taking her twice a year for a week. That only lasted until she was six. Now, Aly’s lucky if she sees her once a year for a couple of hours. Whitney refuses to answer my calls or texts, but I didn’t think she’d go so far as to ignore her own daughter.
“I’m so sorry, Bubs. It’s not cool for your mom to ignore you. You know you can always talk to your aunts or grandma about things you don’t want to talk to me about.”
She sniffs. “I know. I’m sorry I was angry at dinner and called you the worst. You’re not the worst.” She burrows into my side, wrapping her little arms around me and laying her head by my heart.
“It’s okay to be angry, honey. It’s okay to be mad and sad and any other emotion you may have. I’ll always be here when you’ve calmed down and are ready to talk.” I kiss the top of her head.
