Page 25 of Chalk It Up

I think one of the truly most painful parts of my particular grief is that my daughter will never know first hand how incredible her grandparents were. My dad was the best with kids and my mom could make the most delicious meals from nothing. Adeline will never experience the gut-busting giggles while grandpa tickled her senseless. And she’ll never experience my mom’s special, gentle kind of patience while baking her thick, gooey, mouth-watering chocolate chip cookies. I pray that even just small amounts of my parents live on in me and she can have a little bit of them to carry with her even if she doesn’t know it.

And on top of it all, she won’t know her maternal grandparents either. Larissa’s voluntary absence from Adeline’s life consequently removed her grandparents as well. Not that Larissa’s parents were anything to write home about. Of course they’re going to take their daughter’s side in the situation as well as follow in her example of having nothing to do with Adeline.

Thankfully I’m able to somehow get Addie into the car and home without waking her up. It amazes me how well children can sleep. It’s not until I carry her up to her room that she starts to stir awake. Pulling back her covers, I lay her down as gingerly as possible hoping for her sake that she just falls back asleep.

I personally don’t mind her waking up. I never look forward to the time of night when she goes to sleep and I’m left alone with my thoughts. She’s my absolute sunshine and I treasure every moment and conversation we get to have. With Adeline down, I cover her up, brush back some of her beautiful blonde hair, and settle the smallest kiss on top of her head. Another win for Miss Wilma for already having Addie in her pajamas by the time I picked her up. Wilma is truly a gift from God and I don’t know what I’d do without her. Once I go to close the door, my precious girl whispers to me so quietly, “I love you, daddy. Will Miss Jake come over tomorrow?”

I chuckle a little at both the statement and the question. “I love you too, Ads. Do you want her to come over?” I ask back. I need the answer to be no. I want it to be yes. I want to reaffirm to Evangeline that nothing from tonight was an issue for me. It wasn’t a burden, and I’d do it again every night if it meant I was helping and taking care of her. But I need it to be no. At least for a day or two.

I know I can’t keep Evangeline away forever because, with my lack of foresight, I forced her into a tutoring situation that my daughter desperately needs. But I want time to be able to quietly sort through how I’m feeling and slowly allow those feelings to dissolve because they don’t serve me. And ultimately they don’t serve Adeline.

It’s not just me that I’m protecting, it’s her. Adeline won’t have a relationship with her mom, she won’t have a relationship with either of her grandmas, and I won’t handpick another woman to be in her life that eventually decides she doesn’t want a relationship with Adeline just like the rest. I know deep down all of that is false especially with how Evie opened up to me tonight. I know something has changed between us and that terrifies me.

Adeline’s deep, even breaths tell me I’m not going to get an answer from her until the morning. “I hope she is, bug.” I softly answer back for her and quietly slip out of her room.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Ads comes bounding down the stairs the next morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I know that everyone sees and knows me as the jaded, divorced, single dad, and most of that is true. I am somewhat jaded, and entirely divorced and single. But Adeline won’t ever see that. I work my hardest to make sure that she only sees the joy. I will always meet my daughter’s emotions where they are. If she’s hurt, I’m hurting. If she’s celebrating, I’m her biggest fan. If she’s excited, I’m enthusiastic right along with her. The hard part of all of that is laying down and trying to puzzle out which one of those men I really am. Or if I can even be both of them at once, jaded August and joyful dad.

Adeline leaps into my arms wearing her same pajamas from last night, bright blue with yellow rubber ducks all over them. This girl has an obsession with listening to Rubber Ducky during every bath time and has since she was little. So when she saw these in the store there was no way I could deny her.

She knows she has me wrapped around her precious little finger and that I’ll do just about anything for her. But I make sure there’s balance. There are chores and responsibilities and she does all of them without complaint, so it never bothers me to do the things for her that she wants. I scoop her up effortlessly, making sure she doesn’t hit the skillet where her favorite breakfast of warm apple cinnamon pancakes is almost ready.

“Daddy, did you carry me all the way to my room?” She beams at me like I hung the moon while her little legs are wrapped as firmly around my waist as they’ll go. “You are so strong!”

“Oh, Ads!” I tap a quick kiss to her forehead. “You know I’ll carry you whenever you need me. And hey, I made your favorites.” I point out while setting her back on the floor so I can flip her breakfast before it burns on one side.

“It smells delicious! Are they ready?” She asks bouncing up into the stool at the kitchen island.

“Just a few more minutes and they will be. While you wait, can you run out to the dogs and make sure their food and water dispensers are full and working?” This might be her second favorite chore but she always forgets to do it. I could check the cameras that I have installed in their kennel, but Addie needs to understand the responsibility that comes along with caring for another creature, and she does a great job at it.

“Oh yes! Yes, I’ll be right back.” She says holding out her two palms facing toward me. “Don’t eat all the pancakes without me.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Don’t forget your shoes, it’s still a little dewy out there. She settles down on the floor of the back porch and slips on the most glittery pink crocs I’ve ever seen, flipping them into AWD. It just means she’s got the backstrap around her ankle.

She has all kinds of charms on them that Miss Wilma found for her like four puppies each looking like our own, a little rubber duck of course, a chocolate chip cookie because they’re both our favorite, and a little rocket ship because she’s been obsessed with space for as long as I can remember.

She also has one that I got for her that is a little fork and spoon. That one is special to me, representing our sweet meal times and washing dishes together.

Adeline bounds out the door and across the backyard to check on the dogs while I flip and dress her pancakes. I do my best every day to have breakfast ready for her so she doesn’t start school distracted and hungry. She comes happily back into the kitchen ready to dig in to her apple cinnamon pancakes topped with whipped cream and a little powdered sugar. I make her pancakes on the smaller side so she has some room for some fruit on the side.

“Did you sleep okay, Addie?” I ask between bites of my own pancakes, sans whipped cream and sugar, but add extra butter. I’m hoping at least one of us slept well. I stayed up replaying what happened last night trying to sift through my emotions and figure out how Evangeline might be feeling. I tossed and turned making a mental pro and con list for why I should or shouldn’t feel certain ways for her.

My mental list isn’t finished because exhausted, parental delirium eventually knocked me over the head and I fell asleep. In quantity, there were more cons, but pros won in quality. I’m relieved that sleep eventually took over. I couldn’t keep obsessing over something I can’t change right now.

“I slept great! Is Miss Jake coming over to help me today?” Adeline asks, not so much in between bites, but more like through, with, and everything in between.

“First, we don’t talk with our mouths full or we’ll lose all of our pancakes.” It sounds like a scolding but everything is with the best spirit. She wasn’t being bad or disrespectful so she doesn’t deserve to feel like she’s being punished. She was being absent-minded like any kid would be and just needed to be gently redirected and reminded. “And I do believe she’s coming over today, but I can send an email over to her and double check.” I could call her, but it feels strange letting my daughter know I have her teacher's number.

She beams up at me with the brightest, deepest green eyes. “Thank you, daddy! I love when Miss Jake helps me. I really think I can do my speaking part in the Christmas program. She keeps telling me I’m doing a great job even at school when we’re not tutoring.” She’s shoveling more pancakes than I thought possible for a girl her age and I’m impressed.

Evangeline’s love for my daughter might just evaporate my solemn emotions right into oblivion. I know she loves all of her students, but I also know she doesn’t have to love all of her students. That is just woven into the fabric of her being.

I’ve seen it at the school almost every morning since the beginning of the school year when I drop off Adeline. Evangeline is genuinely kind and excited to see every one of her students. I’ve never seen her greet any of them in the morning with anything less than a radiant smile, making that kid feel like the center of the universe.

Even though I’m certain those are core characteristics of who she is, kind and compassionate, I know now just how much work it is for her to be that way. Not every day can be good, but she never shows her students that, at least from what I’ve seen and how Adeline describes her. I think Evangeline has slowly been weaving herself into my heart for months before I even consciously knew it. I think what keeps me tossing and turning at night is a seed of interest that’s been buried under the surface and the sapling is finally taking root and breaking ground. Which feels dangerous.

“I’m glad she’s so encouraging to you, Ads. You are doing a great job and I’m always so proud of you.”

“Oh dad, I know.” She retorts with the cutest little eye roll. “But you’re my dad, you’re supposed to be proud of me.” She’s right, but Evangeline’s not her mom and she’s still more proud of Adeline than even her own mom is, and that doesn’t escape my notice.