Page 40 of Choosing My Happiness
It still warped my mind. I hated jewelry on women. My first instinct was always that they were getting cheated on, even when they weren’t, and I had to work hard not to react inappropriately. My first reaction to seeing someone showing off a new piece of jewelry was always commiseration or condolences. It had caused a few interesting reactions.
I paused in front of the door to my childhood home. I didn’t know what to expect once the door opened. Mom’s life had revolved around Dad, and to be fair, the last time I saw her was the happiest I’d ever seen her. Probably because she wasn’t getting apology bling. She was getting all of the man’s attention.
I took a deep breath and knocked, then I heard little feet running towards the door.
“I get it, Nanny!” a little voice yelled.
“No, no Dylan, let Nanny get the door, sweetie.” The door opened to reveal my Mom with Dylan bouncing behind her.
“Daisy! You made it home.” She reached out to me and I stepped into her embrace. I took the moment to compose myself. Just because Dylan was here didn’t mean Blaze was. Janie had said that Blaze was known for sharing Dylan around.
“Hey Mom, hey Dylan.” I disengaged the hug and gave Dylan a high five, my surprise quickly turning to suspicion. He was still in pajamas.
“Did you have a sleepover?” I asked him in my talking-to-kids voice.
His shyness returned. He just nodded.
I smiled. He really was a sweet little boy. Obviously, he took after his mother. Pity he looked like his dad.
“Is,” I paused, “Nannycooking you breakfast?” I put extra emphasis on the word while looking at Mom. She had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, but there was something else in her expression. Hope?
“Shall we all go and eat together?” she asked, trying to usher us down the hallway. Dylan nodded and ran down to the kitchen. I took a look at the photos hanging on every surface. Pride of place was my wedding photo with Dad, Mom, Maisey, and Tinker. We all looked happy.
I paused at it, trying to find the clues that it was an illusion. That someone in there was aware of the total cock-up that my relationship really was. But everyone was looking bright and shiny…and happy. Even me.
Mom came back to me. “We’ll be happy like that again, Sweetheart. Dylan will just have to take Poppy’s place in the next picture,” she reassured me. I felt sick. That picture was as fake as a storybook cover.
“Dylan called Dad Poppy?” I asked in a whisper, choosing the least confronting battle.
Mom looked at me strangely. “Of course. We didn’t want to confuse the dear boy for when he starts to call you Mommy. Come along now and take a seat. We have pancakes!”
I bit back what I was going to say and followed her. Part of me was hoping that it was Dad who wanted me to stay with Blaze, and without his advocacy, Mom would support me in getting a divorce. Something was telling me that it was a vain hope.
A little while later, breakfast done and dusted, Dylan changed and running around outside, I broached the subject with Mom.
“Mom, what did you mean ‘when’ Dylan calls me Mommy?”
She looked at me startled. “Well, when you and Blaze start living together again. It won’t do for him to call youDad’s wife…or even Daisy, like you’re just another woman.” She adjusted the clasp in her bracelet uncomfortably. “Besides, he has no mom at this stage.”
“He has a lot of aunts and grandparents though,” I pointed out.
“Daisy,” Mom gasped, disapproval lacing each syllable. “You’re not going to make him give up the child, are you?”
I gaped at her. “What are you talking about?”
She huffed in response. “I know Blaze has said it, and yes he’s told us, well your father and me, that if you don’t want Dylan…Blaze is willing to give him up.” Mom leaned over and placed her hand on my arm. “If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is.” She sat back. “But please don’t do it. Dylan is a sweet child.”
“I wouldn’t separate a boy from his father, Mom,” I whispered in horror.
“Well, that’s settled then. Can he start calling you Mom yet?” She rocked back with a proud gleam in her eyes.
I pulled my head up and looked her in the eye.
“No. Because I don’t want a man who would give up his own son to please a woman. That’s just horrible. I’ve been thinking of finalizing this whole shit-show.”
Mom looked scared. “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of divorcing him,” she tremored. “He’s my only son-in-law.”
I looked away and around, then I focused on Dylan, who was concentrating on the grass.
