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“All I’m saying is, I wish my parents would have let me decide if I was full or not. It taught me to overeat, past the point of hunger. It is a hard thing to unlearn.”
I don’t disagree. I don’t necessarily agree either. And I’m not sure that going forward, my parenting style is something that I would like to talk about. I don’t think I’m ready to share this part of my life with anyone. Not even Astrid.
That’s exactly why I don’t need to get close. It is never good to mix business life with personal life. There is too much that can go wrong.
“I have to take Violet to her mom,” I say, eventually.
Astrid takes a step back, looking hurt. “Sean,” she hesitates. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.”
But I don’t have it in me to continue this conversation now. If I do, I know I’ll say something I regret. And that won’t help either of us.
Astrid’s eyes glaze over, and I realize she didn’t mean to hurt me, and that her emotion is a sign that she cares how I feel too. “I’m really sorry.”
I sigh, not wanting to leave this conversation like this, but still upset. “If you’re awake, we can talk more about parenting methods when I get home.”
Her face is stricken. I know my words hurt, but I can’t find it in myself to apologize now. I just need to remove myself before I make it any worse.
“Sean—” Her voice trails off as I walk away.
“I know. You’re sorry. We can talk later.”
CHAPTER 8
ASTRID
Sean didn’t want to talk the night of our fight. He didn’t really want to talk in the days after either. But it didn’t change our routine. The days he’s able to pick Violet up from school, he does. And the days when we’re both busy, I make sure to get home in time to help her off the bus. It makes it easier for me to finish up my work before coming home for the day, or at least finishing as much of it as I can.
The coordination around Violet’s schedule hasn’t created an opportunity for us to do more than talk in short sentences. I’ve made a point to apologize, and I’ve done so countless times, and he says he accepts it every time, but his actions make me wonder if that’s actually true.
I try not to keep pushing the issue. I don’t want something well meaning to become obnoxious and annoying. It’s a balance between not wanting to bother him and my desire to make sure that he understands my motives were never to hurt him or judge him. He’s clearly a wonderful parent. I would never want him to think otherwise.
I run out of creative ways to apologize after a few days, and try to accept that when he says it is fine, it is actually fine.
And it starts to feel true. Sean and I fall back into our comfortable coexistence. We work really well together, actually, while taking care of Violet. We make a good team.
On the days Sean is home, he even makes us dinner. And the days he’s not home, he makes sure that there’s something easy to make in the fridge. We keep a calendar of everyone’s schedules in the kitchen. It’s nice to take turns. It is almost like… well, it is almost like we’re a real family.
Almost.
When I picked Violet up from school today, she told me today that she’s happy I live here and asked me if I was going to become a part of the family. I didn’t know how to answer that, especially after the other night. So I did my best at changing the subject and then keeping her occupied so that she wouldn’t bring it up again.
So far so good.
“Violet, do you want to wash your hands and get ready for dinner?”
She nods her head instead of answering me, folding her coloring book, and putting away her crayons before coming over to wash her hands.
I can hear the garage door before I hear Sean. “Violet. Astrid,” he calls out as he walks inside. I give Violet a meaningful look and she jumps up to greet her dad before he gets to the kitchen.
Violet’s the easiest kid to take care of. She’s very sweet, very responsible for a child. She doesn’t talk much. She watches. She studies. I can definitely tell that she’s Sean’s kid. She’s so much like her dad that I never think to ask Sean about her mother, Victoria.
She even looks like him, with her thick dark hair and deep brown eyes.
“Aww, my princess,” he says, wrapping her in his arms and twirling her in the air the moment he walks into the room.
I’ve been careful to avoid commenting on Sean’s parenting again. I thought about it. I suppose I understand his frustration, a stranger coming into his home and telling him how and what to say to the little girl he’s raised. I didn’t mean harm by it, and I was nervous that maybe between that and the almost kiss I’ve overstepped some boundary. But to my surprise, Violet has become a bonding element between us these last few days. Although we may disagree on some things, I’m surprised to find we have a lot in common.
Like that time he wanted to kiss me and I wanted to kiss him.
