"You hear that ladybug? Your daddy said he'd come for dinner tonight! How about you go pick out a nice outfit to change into later?" Harriet squeals with glee and runs off to her room, probably not to re-emerge for quite some time.
I go back to straightening up the living room after I hang up with Jackson and try to distract myself from the whirlwind going on in my head. There's been this weird feeling in my stomach all morning that I haven't been able to shake. I think it's probably nerves about uprooting my life to move across the country on basically a whim, but deep down I know that's not quite it.
It was almost eerie how easily Jackson and I fell into such a normal routine this morning. I woke up to him and Harriet eating pancakes, and then we joked a little while she drank orange juice. Before I even knew what I was doing, I had hit him with a throw pillow, just like old times. When Jackson and I first got married, I flooded his near-empty couch with enough throw pillows to cover the entire surface. Those throw pillows came in handy when he gave a smart-ass remark that deserved a quick hit.
It was never like that with Matthew. We were comfortable, happy even. But the freedom and fun I felt in my first marriage just was never there. From the first day, it was always like I was walking on eggshells with him. The guilt I held from leaving him at the altar never really subsided, and I could always sense the resentment he still had toward me. We fit together well on paper: two people who were separated by fate and brought back together by their grief. Our stories were so intertwined, and we got along with the other's kid so well. There was always something missing, though. For some reason, every time Jackson and I met to exchange Harriet the hole was even more profound.
I'm not really sure exactly what Jackson is to me anymore. It took me a long time to get over the divorce, which was clouded by us living together after Harriet was born. I'd be lying if I said there weren't still feelings there, especially since the dissolution of our marriage was never my idea. Over the years though, the feelings morphed back into more of the comfortable friendship that always existed under the surface with the man I had long considered my person. But sometimes, when Matthew and I would fight, when Harriet would look at me with her dad's big blue eyes, when I would come across an old photo on my phone, the other type of feelings would resurface. I felt them a bit this morning, going about like the family we could've been if things had gone differently.
I shake my head alongside the motion of shaking out one of the blankets on the couch. I needed to focus. I was moving to Boston, and things needed to be put in order here in Seattle. The focus doesn't last long, and my mind wanders back to Jackson before I could help it – I still can't believe he came over to my house, in the middle of a thunderstorm, to tell me he needed the four of us to uproot ourselves immediately. Was he not expecting Matthew to be here? How did he think that conversation would've gone down? "Hey Matt, I know I interrupted your wedding and you hate me, but I need you and your daughter to move with my ex-wife and our daughter across the country so I can fulfil my life's goals." The audacity of that man! Jackson has a history of acting on impulse, but I've never known him to be selfish. And that was exactly what he was last night – selfish. I get angry all over again just thinking about it. Still, once he looked at me and his face lit up with a joy and passion I hadn't seen in ages, I knew I was a goner for whatever he wanted. There wasn't really much holding me to Seattle anyway. Matthew and Ruby didn't seem to be coming back from Philadelphia anytime soon and living alone half the time in this big house was starting to eat at me. As much as I loved my job and adored seeing the impact I could have on disadvantaged communities, there's always been something missing since I left surgery. I'm not sure if it's the thrill of seeing a new trauma enter the ER or the weariness you feel after spending nine hours on your feet saving someone's life, but I yearned for those days. Maybe working for the foundation would give me a chance to do both.
Harriet screams from her room that she's found an outfit, and I regret sending her off earlier considering it's not even noon yet and now I'll have to convince her to wait a few hours before putting it on. A lightbulb goes off, and I realize I can distract her by helping me pack.
I enter her room with a too-big smile. "Hey ladybug!" I say as I take a seat on her bed. "Mommy has something fun for you to help with." Her eyes light up in a way oddly reminiscent of Jackson's last night as I continue. "We're gonna be going on a little trip soon. To a whole different city! I want Daddy to be here so we can tell you about it together later, but we do need to start packing some of our things into boxes. Do you think you can help Mommy with that today?" She agrees enthusiastically before I finish my sentence and grabs my hand as we run into the living room together.