Page 12

Nova

I couldn’t stop staring at Mama. All night, while she slept on the chair that let out into a bed, I watched her sleep.

I fell asleep a few times, but it was never for long.

It was only when I was awake that I knew all of it was real.

Eventually, I gave in and stopped fighting it.

The next time I opened my eyes, the sun was shining, and Mama was dressed and sitting in the chair, drinking a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Sweet Pea,” Mama greeted me, using the name she called me when I was younger. As I got older, I hated that name. But now, I could listen to Mama call me Sweet Pea all day. “How’d you sleep?” Mama asked.

“Good.” I sat up in the bed.

I couldn’t tell Mama that it was hard to sleep because nighttime had always been the worst time in that house.

During the day Adam was either out working on the farm or running errands, but at night, he had nothing but time, and he spent all of it on me.

I wished I could convince myself that Adam was gone, but my mind didn’t believe it.

It was hard to talk about the things I went through in that room and even harder to see the painful look on my family’s faces whenever I mentioned the slightest thing. All of it was too much for me.

“You hungry?” Mama stood and walked to the side of the bed. “I can call the nurse and ask them to bring you something to eat. Or I can run downstairs and get you something.”

“I’m not hungry,” I told Mama.

I doubted I’d be too picky about whatever food they served.

The cooks at the hospital couldn’t be any worse than the food Adam cooked.

Most times, he threw together whatever he could find in his kitchen.

I didn’t have to be with him to see that.

The plates with SPAM, sliced bread, green beans, and peaches gave it away.

“You want me to fix your hair while we wait?” Mama went back to her seat and rummaged through her purse until she found a brush.

I nodded silently and sat on the edge of the bed.

Mama unwrapped the silk scarf that she’d given to me to tie around my head.

It reminded me of the scarves she always used for Leah and my hair when she’d tied it up every night before bed.

I asked Adam for a scarf once. I didn’t like the idea of going to bed without something covering my hair.

Adam didn’t even think before he told me no.

“What you need a scarf for?” he asked.

When I told him I wanted to use it for my hair, he stared at me so long that I thought he was going to say yes.

“Hell no. You think I’m stupid or something?” he’d fussed. “Why do you really want that scarf? What are you trying to do?”

No matter what I said, Adam was convinced that I was up to no good.

He didn’t punish me that night. The punishment came the next day when he didn’t show up with food.

By that time, I’d gotten used to those punishments and started hiding packs of oatmeal or cookies, which I only got when he was in a good mood.

I hid things I could easily wrap in a towel and tuck in a drawer.

Sometimes, the punishments were so spread out that whatever I’d hidden was stale by the time I needed it.

That didn’t matter to me, though. I just needed to eat.

“You okay, baby? Am I hurting you?” Mama leaned over and looked at me.

“I’m okay. I think my hair is good now.” Suddenly, Mama’s touch wasn’t soothing anymore. It was too familiar, but her hands weren’t the ones I felt running through my hair.

“I brushed my wife’s hair every night.” Adam grinned and insisted on doing the same for me. Or maybe I should say to me because I never asked him to do anything for me. As the memory grew, so did the feeling of his hands in my hair.

“Okay. I just have to brush this part down.”

I looked up just as Mama raised the brush, and without thinking, I swatted it, sending the brush flying against the wall.

Mama’s wide eyes stared from me to the wall.

“I’m sorry, Mama.” And I was. I hated seeing that look in her eyes and knowing I’d caused it. It was a look I was sure Adam had seen plenty of times, and I didn’t want to be him. I didn’t want to hurt her like he’d hurt me.

“You don’t have to be sorry, baby. It’s okay.” Mama bent down and picked up the brush just as someone knocked on the door.

I grabbed the scarf from beside me and wrapped it back around my head to cover my thick gray hair that made me look older than Mama.

Leah peeped her head through. “Good morning,” she whispered. “Can we come in?”

“Yes,” I said, waving them in.

It was the first time we’d all been in the same room. My smile locked in place. I couldn’t drop it even if I wanted to. At least, that was what I thought until joy and sorrow mingled inside me, causing my body to deflate by the overwhelming absence of Dad’s presence.

Even with the dread of missing Daddy, there was still joy.

As I watched Skye standing between Leah and Quinton, I couldn’t help thinking how someone could easily mistake them as a mama, father, and child.

The thought caused me to laugh out loud as I remembered how much Leah and Quinton couldn’t stand each other.

I could tell they got along now, though, but they’d probably get sick at the thought of touching each other, let alone marriage.

“What are you laughing at?” Leah asked, looking like she was about to laugh even though she had no idea why.

“I was looking at the three of you and imagined how upset you’d be if someone had mistaken you two as a couple and Skye as your daughter.”

The flash of panic that crossed Leah’s and Quinton’s faces made me laugh even more. “Those are the looks I expected to see. I knew you’d both find that horrifying.” I cleared my throat. “I needed that laugh.”

Leah and Quinton laughed too.

“Then I’m glad we were able to give it to you,” Leah said, before turning her attention to Mama. “Mom, how about we go to the cafeteria and grab some breakfast and give Skye and Nova a little time alone?”

Mama hesitated for a minute.

“I’d really like that,” I said, giving Mama the reassurance she needed to leave.

Skye sat in the chair when everyone else left.

“How’d you sleep?” I asked, needing to say something to get rid of the silence.

“Good.” Skye glanced at me and then looked away.

Last night, she only looked at me for a second or two before she’d turn to look at Mama or Leah.

I should’ve been the person she turned to when she needed security, not the person who made her feel uncomfortable.

I was her mom, but in reality, I was just a random stranger she’d heard about but never knew.

I was no better than Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.

Actually, they had an advantage because at least she looked forward to a visit from them every year.

Never in a million years could I have imagined my relationship with my daughter being like this.

When I thought of all the things Adam did to me in that room .

.. The times he’d make me go days with very little food because he said I was unappreciative.

The time he took away the ring Quinton had slid on my finger and replaced it with the one he’d bought for his wife.

All the times he held me and touched me and kissed me.

None of that came close to the torture I felt sitting across from my daughter, being so close yet feeling so far away.

“Dad said you may want to know about my life,” Skye said softly before lifting her gaze to me. “Do you? Want to know, I mean.”

“I want to know everything. Every little detail.” I felt like I’d said those exact words to all of them.

“That’ll be a pretty boring story if I start at the beginning, especially since I really don’t remember much from when I was younger.” She twisted her finger around her braid.

Her words sliced a hole in my heart. I was a part of those younger years.

Naturally, I didn’t think she’d remember anything, being that she was only two, but a small slice of my soul had hoped that somehow, she’d remember our bath times when we’d fill the tub with bubbles, scoop them in our hands, and blow them at each other.

Or even bedtime when she’d lie next to me, and I’d read or sing to her until she fell asleep on my chest. I wanted so badly for her to remember the walks in the park or the first time her dad and I took her to the pool in our apartment complex.

“My life now is way more interesting, but only because of basketball. It’s the only thing I do outside of school and church.” Skye glanced at me. “Dad’s pretty strict.”

My mouth flew open. “Quinton’s strict?”

Skye nodded. “Why is that so shocking?”

“I just never imagined he’d be a strict parent. I always thought he’d be the fun one, and I’d be forced to be the strict one, which I didn’t want to be either,” I admitted.

Skye leaned forward. “Are you saying my dad used to be fun?”

“What? I’m saying your dad was the fun.” I laughed. “Oh, the stories I could tell you about him back then.”

And just like that, Skye and I had found something that we were both interested in talking about. There was nothing I loved more than sharing stories from our past with her.

“I cannot believe this,” Skye said after I told her about the senior prank Quinton spearheaded. “Farm animals in the school? He would have a fit if I did that.”

“Well, you’re his baby. He used to say that no matter how old you get, you’d still be his baby girl,” I said, thinking that would make her feel better, but it didn’t.

“That’s the problem. He always wanted me to be a little baby and couldn’t accept that I was growing up.”

“It’s kind of hard for me to accept too,” I admitted.

“At least you have a reason for feeling that way. Dad’s been with me every day. He should remember what it was like being a teenager. He did say I could go to prom this year, though. Teeah and I had to double-team him to finally get a yes.” Skye stopped abruptly like she’d said something wrong.