Page 66 of The Wrong Track

“No matter what, she would always be my daughter and I would always love her and help her,” Tobin said. “Please let me do that, Remy.”

And I didn’t answer. My throat was so tight that it hurt, not from asthma but from holding back tears.

He glanced at me in the mirror and I looked out the window for a while before I could speak again. “Let’s talk about it later instead,” I said because I knew that later, he’d be at work. I watched him fold his nice lips together like he was holding in the words, but he still had that stubborn face. He wasn’t going to give in, not yet.

After we’d waved goodbye at the picture window, I sat on the couch and leaned Ella in my lap so that she could look at me. “What do you think, peanut?” I asked her. “No, I already know what you think. You want Tobin to be your dad. I mean, of course you do. He’s just about perfect, isn’t he? The first time he held you, he looked at you like you were a miracle. You are.”

She watched me with dark eyes. This was her whole future and I had already gotten so much wrong. I had to get this right but I couldn’t give into the inclination to say yes, please, take us on. Ruin your life and take us on.

“Let’s name the things that are wrong with him,” I suggested, and thought. “Well, he can’t sing. We both know that, but it doesn’t stop him. He sings to you all the time, doesn’t he? And you seem to like it. He tells you all about football which has to be so boring for you.” But she enjoyed that, too. “He wants to take you to games, like, it would be a special thing that the two of you could do together. He already got you a jersey.” It was toddler-sized, but he was prepared to wait.

She gurgled back at me and I imitated her for a minute before we continued. “He’s much too generous, right? He’d probably give someone the shirt off his back. Even if it was his last shirt, he'd still give it.” But that wasn’t much of a criticism. “We know he can’t cook, but he is really great at grocery shopping and now that he can stand for a long time, he does all the dishes.”

These were the worst things I could say about him? I thought harder. “His mother would die,” I said eventually. “She definitely doesn’t want him to marry me, and that would cause a big fight between them because I know he won’t listen to her and he’ll do what he wants. And he’s too young. There, that’s a good one. He’s too young to tie himself down and he shouldn’t tie himself to me at any age. He’s already done way too much for me. I already owe him so much.” That made me think more. “But he believes that being your dad would be a gift, like the biggest gift I could give him. It would definitely be the biggest gift I could give you, Ella Margaret. You couldn’t have anyone better than Tobin as your father.”

I was getting nowhere. I needed to talk to someone about this, someone besides the small person drooling on her own shirt. I needed someone who had the ability to answer me and give me advice. That person couldn’t be Hazel and it couldn’t be her mom, either, because they were way too close to this situation to be objective. Beth Ellen at the library? I hardly knew her, but more importantly, there was a lot of backstory that she didn’t have and I didn’t want to share. The same was true about Annie; there was too much I didn’t want her to know, but without it, she couldn’t understand the situation.

I went through the people I knew, which was a short list, and then I decided on a name. “I’m going to tell Tobin that I’m thinking about it and I’ll give him an answer tomorrow,” I said to Ella. “How do you feel about going to bed?”

She wasn’t really in the mood but she fell asleep, eventually. I lay awake, though, and waited for Tobin. I listened to him wash up in the kitchen sink so he wouldn’t disturb me and then, finally, he got into bed. His hand moved to my shoulder and I reached and gripped it.

“You ok? I’m here,” he told me.

I fell asleep still holding on.

∞

“I’m really the person you want to ask about this?”

“Yes.” I paused. “There’s no one else,” I explained. “You’re my last resort.”

John Hatcher, Hazel’s big, football player boyfriend, didn’t seem fazed by that comment. “Hazel’s really good at advice,” he told me. “She knows a lot more about womanly matters.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t really a ‘womanly matter.’”

“It’s a problem you have, and you’re a woman. Do you want a smoothie? I made it with milk and ice cream, not vegetables,” Hatch invited.

“No, thank you. My problem is about Tobin and I know that Hazel can’t be impartial.”

He nodded slowly.

“I need someone who doesn’t care about him or me,” I went on. “Someone who knows my history.” As much of it as was public and I’d allowed out. “Tobin wouldn’t be very happy that I’m sharing stuff with you, sharing anything with you, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t say anything.”

“Sure, but that wasn’t right. I do care about both of you,” he said, “but I get what you mean. Come on into the kitchen.”

Russell the dog also accompanied us and Ella watched him, enthralled. “That’s a doggie,” I told her, and barked quietly. Russell looked askance but she liked it.

Hatch drained his glass. “Ok, let’s have it,” he told me, and first I swore him to secrecy.

“You can’t tell Hazel. You can’t tell anyone. Can you promise that? It’s nothing bad,” I said. “I’ll tell Hazel myself once I make a decision about it, so you don’t have to worry about keeping it from her for too long.” Either way I went with this, Tobin was going to need to lean on her.

He looked at me for a moment. “We should go to the gym. I’ll think better if I’m working out,” he said, so the three of us followed him again, Russell glancing behind at Ella a few times in confusion. He’d probably never seen a person his own size.

“Do you have a routine?” Hatch asked me. He gestured at the weights and machines. “Hazel has one and I can make one for you, too. It could help your asthma.”

I was kind of touched. “Ok. Thank you.”

He picked up a dumbbell that must have weighed more than me, Ella, and Russell combined. “What’s wrong with Tobin?” he asked, and now I spilled the whole story.

---