Page 29 of The Art of Vanishing

Claire

“Are you sleepy? Do you want to nap with Grandma?” We had just survived another day of virtual school by the skin of our teeth, maxing out Luna’s attention span to the fullest. Summer break was still over a month away and I had no idea how I would fill the days enough to entertain her.

“No, not sleepy.” Luna shook her head. “Can I have a snack?”

“Sure thing,” I said. I wrapped one arm around her and swung us both up to sit, hitching her onto my hip and carrying her to our dining table.

Pushed up against the wall, it had space for just three chairs, a perfect fit for our family.

Luna always sat in the middle, which is where I deposited her as I started to open the cabinets.

“What are you in the mood for today?” I asked.

“You pick,” she replied. She was amenable today, I thought with relief.

Luna was hard to predict right now; hunger made her fickle.

One moment, we’d be peacefully coexisting; the next, she would have a meltdown of ungodly proportions.

It felt like a good time to have this conversation.

Well, no time was really a good time, as she was only four and we were about to tread into concepts she certainly could not wrap her mind around.

But I had been sitting on her dad’s visit for weeks and I knew I needed to tell her.

I cut up an apple for us to share, making a little bowl of Cheez-Its for the side.

These had been a comfort purchase for myself in my last grocery store run.

As I surveyed our stock, I realized I’d have to do it again soon enough.

I shivered. I hated going to that place.

It still wasn’t clear how we could best protect ourselves.

Did we need to wear masks? Gloves? Face shields?

Were we supposed to wipe every package down when we got home from the store?

My brain had never run so rampant with anxiety until I had Luna.

True, up until that point I’d also been basically a kid, not even old enough to vote.

But there was something about the way I now saw the world as a series of things that could harm her, that had induced a new-to-me near-constant state of panic.

How could I optimize every moment to keep her as safe as possible?

While I was still just trying to make it through myself?

The current state of the world didn’t help.

As much as I hated doing the shopping, it had to be me.

Gracie wasn’t quite yet in the age bracket that was considered the most vulnerable, but I wasn’t about to take any chances.

From what I could tell from the news, there were a lot of people who were getting super sick, no matter how old they were. At least Jean was safe from that.

Jean. If I let my mind wander, he was always there.

“Mooooo-ooooo-om,” Luna called from the table.

I brought her the little snack plate I’d prepared.

I really was a terrible cook and the last few weeks had put that on display.

I watched moms on TikTok take this time as a chance for culinary wonder, whipping up dishes for their kids that belonged in the kitchens of Michelin-starred restaurants, building candy charcuterie boards because they could.

Meanwhile, I could burn a pan of scrambled eggs.

Shockingly, none of my meals ever seemed worth sharing on Instagram.

But Luna never seemed to mind. She chomped down on an apple slice and smiled toothily at me in thanks. I took a handful of the cheesy crackers.

“What’s next today, Moon? You want to watch a movie?

” We’d never been strict about screen time in our house; Gracie and I agreed years ago that we’d do whatever was needed to get through each day.

But any semblance of guilt we’d felt about plopping Luna down in front of the TV had completely evaporated since lockdown had begun. We’d watched Cars almost a dozen times.

“No, thank you,” she said, mouth full of Cheez-Its. She swallowed hard, orange crumbs still dusting her lips. “Can we color?”

“Sure.” I grabbed the crayons and stack of scrap paper we kept for moments like this one, a compilation of the backs of bills, letters, and junk mail.

I was grateful for something to do with my hands.

I picked out a letter that was mostly blank on the opposite side, passed it to Luna, and emptied the crayon box onto the table.

“What are we drawing today?” I asked as she picked out two blue crayons.

“No, Mommy, do your own,” Luna commanded.

I was wary; Luna’s solo artistic endeavors often ended up covering more of the table than the page, but I was determined to keep this good mood, so I picked out a page for myself and grabbed a green crayon.

I could clean the table later. We lapsed into silence.

“So, Luna,” I began.

“So, Mommy,” she mimicked as she scribbled, using the piece of paper as a loose guide for where to stop her crayon.

“You know how some of the kids at school have a mommy and a daddy?”

“Or two mommies or two daddies,” she corrected me.

“Right, right, of course.”

“I have two mommies,” she said proudly.

“Kind of,” I said. “Gracie is your great-grandmommy. But she loves you just like any other mommy.” Luna continued her coloring.

“You remember I told you that your daddy had to go away when you were a really small baby?” She nodded.

“Well, he got to come back and he would like to see you. Would you like that? To see him too?”

Luna stopped coloring. I could see her little face concentrating, searching for the right answer, and I wondered for the one-millionth time if this was too big of a decision, and I should have just made it for her.

I had fretted about this for the past weeks before ultimately landing on the conclusion that I always wanted her to be involved in the decision-making process.

“Can you come?” she asked.

“Of course, Moon, of course I’ll come.” I did not relish the idea of spending time around Jeremy, not knowing if I could ever forgive him for leaving.

But I certainly wasn’t about to let Luna waddle off into his company without having any sense of where they were or what they were up to.

“I was thinking we could meet him at the playground or take a short walk. Just to see how it feels. And if at any point you want to go home, you just say the word.”

We had just started going to the playground again.

We’d show up right before the sun was about to set, when it was sure to be as empty as possible.

There were copious amounts of handwashing and wipes involved.

I couldn’t tell if it was safe enough, but it was necessary for our sanity so it was a risk we were taking.

“When?” Luna asked.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “I’m going to call him after this and make sure he’s safe from the sickness”—that’s what we called it—“and we will set up a time. I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “Now, color, Mommy,” Luna commanded. I obliged.

Against my better judgment, my mind wandered back to Jean, as it often did in moments of stillness. Did he think I’d abandoned him forever? Did he understand why I couldn’t come? Did he know anything of a pandemic?

Oh, how our tables had turned. I had always been the one who was freer and now, here I was, locked in an apartment that was far too small for three generations of my family.

Our neighborhood was so tightly packed, we hadn’t even gone for walks during the first three weeks for fear of getting too close to another human.

Meanwhile, Jean had hundreds of universes to explore.

He could go as far as he wanted in a hop, skip, and jump.

“What did you draw, Mommy?” Luna asked, reaching for my page. I looked down, trying to decipher my mindless scribbles.

“I think it’s a garden,” I guessed as I passed it over for her inspection. It was, in fact, the garden behind Jean’s house. I had even done my best to outline Aurora, the friendly statue next to the pond. “What do we have here?” I said, looking down at her page of unidentifiable shapes and colors.

“It’s a zebra alien monster,” she said, her tone implying it was obvious and I should have known that for myself.

“Of course it is!” I exclaimed, clutching it closer to my chest.

“Can we put them on the fridge?”

“Yes, we absolutely can,” I assured her as I strode over to it. I surveyed the remaining real estate; the front of our fridge was starting to resemble the walls of the gallery, chock-full of art. Luna pushed aside some of her previous work and cleared a spot in the middle.

“Right here,” she instructed. I followed along as directed, finding two available magnets to clip them on. We stood back to survey our work.

“Looks good,” Luna declared before she wandered off toward the couch, where I could hear her freeing one of her toys from the bin we kept them in.

It did look good, the fridge, in its own chaotic way.

As I stared at my rough representation of Jean’s world, I wondered how far my abilities extended.

Could I crawl into this landscape, if I let myself just fall in?

I thought better of it. I didn’t want to be in that makeshift version of the place I loved so much. That wouldn’t get me any closer to Jean. There, I’d just be alone. Really and truly alone.

“What’s his name, Mommy?” Luna asked from across the room.

“Jean,” I said easily. Then I realized what she was actually asking. “Oh, your daddy’s name?” She nodded. “His name is Jeremy.”

She was satisfied with this answer and went off to create a new mess in the living room. Gracie was up from her nap, making a cup of tea for herself in the kitchen.

“I see you talked to her,” Gracie said. I had previewed this conversation with her a few nights ago, letting her in on what had been taking up space in my mind. “How did it go?”

“As well as it could, I think. She wants to meet him, as long as I go too.”

Gracie nodded in acknowledgment. As long as I was ripping off conversational Band-Aids, I might as well tackle asking her the question I’d been avoiding.

“She’s okay, right? I know you’re still in touch.”

“Who, sweetie?” Gracie asked. She very much knew what I was asking, but she was going to make me say it out loud.

“Mom. I can hear you whispering to her on the phone in the living room when you think I’m still asleep.”

Gracie continued to stir her tea, choosing her words carefully. “She’s healthy. Seems to have avoided the virus so far, lucky, like us.”

I tried to picture my mom, all alone wherever she was living these days. I’d never forgiven her for throwing me out and she’d never made an effort to get back in touch, but I did acknowledge that she existed and was somewhat comforted to hear she was okay.

“She always asks after you and Luna,” Gracie added tentatively. It was rare that I mentioned my mom and opened space for us to talk about her. Gracie was proceeding with caution. I didn’t believe her.

“If she cared about how we were, she would have let me stay.” I felt a door in my heart slam shut as I said the words. I’d picked at an old wound and it stung. I needed to keep myself and Luna safe.

“You know it’s not that simple,” Gracie said. “All she ever wanted was a better life for you than she had for herself.”

“My life is better because Luna is in it.” I knew that when my mom looked at me, all she saw was her own failure. That’s what she thought we both were: two failures who had gotten pregnant in high school and let it ruin our lives.

“I know,” Gracie said. “I know.” And I knew she knew. Gracie had picked us, after all. This wasn’t her fault.

But it wasn’t just Jean who was missing from this bizarre domestic scene. In a perfect world, free of judgment and grudges, my mother would be here, completing the four generations of our family under this crooked apartment roof.

I pointed to my cellphone and indicated I was stepping outside to make a call.

As the phone rang, I thought of all the ways this could go wrong. He could have disappeared again and then I’d have to explain to Luna that it had all fallen through. I’d thought of that before, but felt really strongly that I needed Luna’s permission before I could open this door into our lives.

Jeremy answered on the third ring and I could tell from the hopeful tone in his voice that he had been wishing it was me.

He’d been quarantining, he promised me, just on the chance that I decided to call.

Still, I wanted to play it safe. I set a date for the next week and made him promise to see absolutely no one between now and then.

He assured me it wouldn’t be a problem, which made me wonder about his living situation, and if I’d ever believe he was telling the truth.

But the circumstances were forcing me to trust him, and so I tried to do so.

After I hung up, I looked at the clock on my phone and realized it was nearly time to make dinner. These days could feel like an endless string of meals to be made and dishes to be washed. I made my way back up to the apartment.

“Mommy, come look!” Luna called through the doorway. I went off to give her whatever she needed.