Tegan
The few months after Sara's failed IVF, I had to be a babysitter for both her and Sally. My daughter couldn't understand why her mother felt so down all of a sudden and what was happening to her. Some mornings she would feel lively and good and others she would be moody and zoned out.
I spent many nights in Sara's place with Sally and her complexes sharing the bed. I've never thought having a family would mean my kid sleeping in the middle till she's ten, but I guess that's what you get when you're spoiled by Sara. Hell, I used to run out of my dorm bed and sleep in Sara's just to hear her breathing.
Sara has the magical tenderness of a mother, a sister, and a lover. Nobody has it but her. I know I'm addicted, Emy is, and so is Stacy. We all love Sara. Even Robert loves Sara. Everyone fucking loves Sara.
Sometimes I hear her hurtfully claim that I must be happy she's childless to which I patiently respond that the only childless person is me and she's a mother, reminding her that just because she didn't push Sally out of her, it doesn't mean she's not her mother.
Maybe it's my fault. I have instilled this idea in her head. Years of emotional abuse have caused this.
I personally don't know why she thinks a woman's worth is measured by her ability to produce. I thought that since we are in 2023 now things have changed and Sara doesn't think like this anymore. It's not like she has thought like that ever, but somehow this idea has been stuck in her brain and she can't let go of it.
Maybe it's her fear that I might take Sally someday. As if I can ever do that. The kid is clearly super attached to Sara who, ironically, had tried her best not to get her attached when she was a young child. I remember her fights with Stacy about Sally sleeping in bed with them. I remember how she tried her best to let Sally be independent, yet everything changed so quickly when both of them found themselves alone and in need for each other. It is endearing that Sally sees her as a hero. God knows I only saw my mum as an idiot when I was Sally's age, but I just wish Sally isn't so attached to Sara. What if she ends up being another Sara? Weak? Dependent? Lets people step all over her and bully her? Allows an abusive person like me in her life?
All I know is that Sara shouldn't worry about me taking Sally from her because I don't have the heart to do it. I just want to see both happy and this current situation is satisfying for me.
But Sara's misery thickens when we learn that Emy and Vivian are going to have a child.
Vivian's pregnant. It's a boy. They only tell us when she's in her second trimester and I don't blame them because Sara's envy isn't even normal these days. Plus, both Emy and Vivian have lost children before so they are scared. Both are happy, but both are worried.
The bad news for Sara comes only a month later when she discovers her sister Joy is also pregnant. She doesn't know what she's having and wants to find out when the baby is delivered. I don't know why people still do that. I'd prefer to know to prepare some clothes and the nursery. It's not a gender thing, but I'd like to dress my baby in cute dresses or suits or whatever. I would have done that to Sally. Plus names. Like I certainly wouldn't name my boy Sally or my girl Joseph. That would just be weird.
"Auntie T?" Sally asks me one day in her mother's bedroom while all of us three are lying in bed anticipating Vivian's birth after Emy's call that her water broke and they are on their way to the hospital. She asked for no one to go until the birth is over and we can go after. Emy doesn't really need us anymore. She doesn't need our emotional support and guidance.
"Yes, Snowball?"
What if Sara stops needing me? What if we stop needing each other?
"I want to ask you a personal question."
It can't happen because we're lovers and sisters and we have Sally so we will always need each other.
"Yes?"
Sara groans. "Leave her alone, Sally."
"I just am curious." Here we go.
"Ask, honey."
"I am just really confused about why you don't want to have a girlfriend and have your own baby?" Fuck my life.
"I already have you." I wink at her, but Sara's glare is brighter to see than Sally's smiling face. "You're like my child."
"It's not the same," Sally insists.
"Maybe I will be with someone and have a child someday," I say, hoping this will shut her up. "But you really shouldn't ask someone why they're single and don't have a child yet. That's a bit rude."
"See?" Sara says. "I told you." She must have asked her this question before. "Not everybody likes to live the way you think is right, Snowball."
"I was just curious." She shrugs and then takes my hand and locks her fingers in mine. "I think auntie T would make a very cool mum." I lean in to kiss her cheek, trying my best to preserve these joyful moments of inner solace and peace sitting here around my family.
Vivian gives birth to a baby boy and they name him Sam. Sara thinks it's a weird name for a baby. Sam is an uncle or an old guy or Sam Smith, she thinks. We wait till Vivian gets home the next day until we visit because according to Emy the hospital is chaotic with Vivian's family and Emy's mother around.
Sam is a beautiful little boy who probably looks like Emy since she used her eggs in Vivian's womb.
"He doesn't look like Pearl, though," Emy whispers while holding the infant. Sara, Sally, and I are sitting on the couch around her while she's holding him.
"Pearl looked like the donor, I think. She looked nothing like you," I say.
"She was so beautiful."
"Em…" Sara touches her shoulder and squeezes. "Look at this baby now and be thankful and happy. Forget the past."
"I am so grateful." They exchange a warm look before Emy continues, "But my past is something that I will take with me to the grave. I won't forget my baby girl."
I can see Sally frowning. She barely remembers Pearl. She remembers figments, moments, scenes, but not much.
"I'm just happy this boy is healthy and like he has all his parts and everything," Emy says, switching her mood quickly. "Look, he has a penis." She strips the little kid immediately.
"Oh my God," Sara screams with laughter. "Emy, seriously, of course he does."
"Sara and Sally, that's a penis since you haven't ever seen one," I say, making my daughter blush at the embarrassing people surrounding her. "It's so small."
"He's a baby," Emy says, covering her crying baby immediately. "When he grows old, my son will have the largest…" Sara glares at her after a nudge. "Sorry."
"This is uncomfortable," Sally states. "Is that what you did to me when I was born? Just got me naked in front of everyone?"
"Yes," Sara and I say simultaneously.
"You peed on me the moment you were born," Sara says but Sally just groans because this is not the first time this story has been narrated.
Sara interrogates me that night about my comment earlier. "You said we haven't seen one and what I know you haven't, too."
"Oh, I have. Baby penis? Of course. My cousins'," I tell her. "It's the old man penis I haven't seen," I lie even though I know I shouldn't and she wouldn't do anything if she knew that I've slept with a man during my dark times.
"Eww, don't say baby penis. It sounds like some type of seafood."
"You're disgusting," I scream, pinching her arm lightly. I tickle her just to hear her laughter and watch her wiggle from underneath me.
"Stop, stop," she screams, laughing and kicking.
I give her a passionate kiss and pull away when I feel footsteps outside of the door. I fix my posture and sit up straight knowing Sally's eavesdropping behind the door.
"Sally?" Sara calls. "Are you okay?"
"Uh…" She didn't think she would get caught. "I thought something was wrong. You were screaming."
"That's because I was tickling her," I say, opening the door to find her there with a blank look on her face. "And you're next." I attack and she screams, running to her mother on the bed to hide from my hands. I find her and tickle while Sara laughs.
Moments like these are the most precious gifts my heart has earned. I cherish them. I preserve them. I wish them to last and never end. Having sex with Sara on the weekends hasn't been better. Spending time with Sally during the weekdays also hasn't been better. I'm watching my daughter grow before my own eyes. It's a wish I've had but never thought I could obtain when I kicked Sara out of my place more than ten years ago. It seems so long ago, but, God, I still remember those harsh cruel days when the truth crashed me and left me lying flat on an empty road.
It's like I've finally found my shelter. It's like after the long wandering I have stumbled upon my home buried in the weedy plants. After years of searching in the coldness of a never ending winter, I have slid into a magical kingdom of sun and warmth and here I am saved and happy.
…
That next summer after Sara's failed IVF attempt, she decides to visit her mother and sister in Toronto for her sister's birth. Part of her has gotten over the whole baby thing. At least in front of everyone else except me. Sometimes at nights she narrates her fantasy of having another child. When I ask her why she wants it so bad, she doesn't tell me. Maybe she, herself, doesn't really know. Maybe it's just a dare she has with herself.
She sometimes asks me if I want to have my own child and I give her the same answer I give Sally. But she always reminds me of the time I told her I can't have one. Truth is I'm not really sure whether I can or not. I did consult my doctor about it when Sara's baby craze began three years ago. The answer was that with my weak uterus it might be hard for me to carry so I might want to look for a surrogate mum. Since that day I went out running after giving birth, I haven't been the same. My body hasn't been the same since that day. I don't like to talk about it or whine about it much. I leave the whining to Sara, but I think she has figured it out by now that giving birth to Sally has fucked up my body. It's not Sally who the blame falls on, but my lack of care about myself. I was reckless and I wanted to hurt myself and I guess I have succeeded.
Sara and I FaceTime each night before she goes to bed. Sally would try to squeeze herself into Sara's screen to listen to the conversation and interact so it's very hard to be intimate because she's always in the room with Sara. Even when I call in the morning, she's there following Sara like her shadow. Most of the conversation is general and sometimes it is plain hilarious when Sara narrates her sister's rude encounters.
"I'm so pissed at Joy."
"Why?"
"For starters, she's giving everyone a hard time and being so rude. Like I get it giving birth is painful but she's just plain rude."
"What did she say?" I smile knowing that Sara is probably butt-hurt about something her sister has said in her subconscious state of comprehension.
"Nothing," Sara says, voice breaking a little bit.
"She called mum's nipples ugly and large," Sally says from the back.
"Shut up, Sally." I burst laughing until I realize Sara is actually tearing up.
"Are you seriously crying?"
"She was about to breastfeed her little fucking monster baby from hell, who, by the way, doesn't ever stop crying, and then she was like 'Oh, God, my nipples are gonna be as ugly and large as yours now.'" I'm holding my laughter only because I know how sensitive Sara is about her body image. All I can do is give an "aww" and tell Sara this is not true since I really can't tell her that her nipples are hot and a fucking turn on.
But I text her that after the video call. I text her about her nipples and how sexy they are. I tell her how much I'd like to bite on them at the moment. I tell her about how fuckable she is and how hot every part of her body is. I make her feel better about her insecurities till she tells me she can't read all that without getting turned on and she can't do anything about it with Sally sleeping next to her.
Bathroom, I suggest. She tells me that Joy's son doesn't stop crying and it would be very annoying and distracting. I still don't get why Joy is spending time with Jessica and not at her house with her own husband right now. Poor Jessica; she…
No. Fuck Jessica and fuck Joy. They hate the ground I walk on and wish that I evaporate because I'm apparently more dangerous to be around Sara than Sara being depressed because we're not together. Fuck them both.
Sara returns a week before school is back. She returns with Sally fretting about sixth grade and the three pimples she's growing on her forehead. I don't know what happened during that month she's spent in Toronto, but she returns an anxious girl worried about how she looks and what she's wearing.
I notice her arms wrapped around her torso the whole ride home. She's angry and irritable. Whenever Sara talks to her, she rolls her eyes and answers gruffly.
"Sally, are you cold?" I ask the moment we enter Sara's apartment. Sara is dragging her suitcase and I'm dragging Sally's even though both of us are not supposed to lift or carry anything heavy but it seems that Sally is too angry to help. "It's very hot today."
"Mum, where are the sports bras mama got me last year?" She dismisses me completely, not even looking my direction.
"My dresser. Top drawer. Just look well…" Sally interrupts her mother by flying to Sara's bedroom. I furrow my brows at Sara who shakes her head with eyes that are about to freeze fire if they could.
Just a moment later…No…Not even a moment; it's like a second later and Sally storms out of the room angrily. "I'm going to see my friends," she announces.
"Wait…what..."
"They're at Brianna's house. I'll walk." She leaves before Sara can finish a sentence, leaving me there with my mouth hanging.
"What the fuck?" I say as Sara sighs into her hand. "What's wrong with her?"
"My fucking sister is what's wrong," Sara exclaims. "That fucking idiot who thinks it's fucking okay to insult people for fun."
"Joy?" Sara nods with tears streaming down her face.
"She couldn't stop pointing out everything wrong in my daughter just because she's actually yours."
Of course she would. She's angry Sara's talking to me. She hates my guts. She thinks I'm going to hurt Sara again.
"She had to comment on the fact she's not so skinny, telling her she should go on a diet or she'll get bullied in high school."
"Sara,…"
"She made fun of her acne telling her that when I was a teenager my face was a map and my pimples were the dots to be connected and that her face will probably be the same. She made fun of her braces and teeth. She…"
"Sara, don't continue," I yell. "I can't hear this." I shut her up with my voice. She looks at me sniffling. "I can't bear hearing this. Who does she think she is?"
"I have to let it out of my system because I tried my best to convince Sally that Joy was just saying that because she's having postpartum depression. I had to convince myself she was just saying what she's saying because it's just who she is, but I can't help but think she's taking her anger towards you on my baby."
If she can't rant to me and tell me about my daughter who would she tell, anyway? Stacy? No, thanks. I'd rather be the one knowing this, not fucking Stacy.
I sit next to her and hold her in both arms. I kiss her temple and ask her to continue.
"Then she was like your breasts are gonna be as huge as your mum's and you should start wearing a bra because it doesn't look nice right now." I nod. I did plan talking to Sara about this particular issue because I did notice Sally's chest growing in the past three months. "It's not like I didn't know that. Stacy bought her sports bras last year and she said she's not ready to wear them because none of her friends did so I just let it go until she feels comfortable enough and now that bitch Joy made her feel so self-conscious she's been folding her arms against her chest for the past three days."
"Oh, Sara." I wipe some of her tears. I've never seen such a worried mother. She's crying because a fucking bitch hurt her child's feelings. "I really dislike Joy right now." I give her another kiss on her cheek. "It's alright. I'll talk to Sally. I'll make her feel better."
"She also commented on her body hair. She's a baby; she barely has any. Joy was like you're probably going to be as hairy as your mum so trust me you better start shaving from now."
And that's the disaster we face during the following days. A week after, on the first day of school, Sara calls me with panic in her voice.
"I think we have an issue." I was just preparing the table for them to have breakfast with me after getting ready, but I am interrupted by Sara's call.
"What issue?"
"A razor issue." Sara sighs.
"Huh?"
"Sally took my razor without asking me and started shaving her legs and underarms and, umm, her pubic hair and…"
"She has pubic hair?" I ask with a cucumber in my mouth. "Did she cut herself?" Fucking Joy. It's all her fault.
"Multiple cuts on her legs but…"
"Sara, speak…"
"I think you should come see it." I hear Sally's angry 'No' from the back. "Shut up," Sara screams. "She has to see what you did to yourself or do you wanna go to a doctor to look at your vagina?" My eyes widen in shock.
I discover that Sally has shaved without a shaving cream and her whole body is red with a terrible rash and tiny little pimples only my body can produce after using a razor.
"It's worse in her…pubic area," Sara says while I check her legs, tsking at her. "You should have called me to help you. You should have told me," Sara rebukes until I shush her.
"Sally, I'm just gonna pull your underwear down a bit to take a look at it. I just wanna see if it's the same rash I get or not."
"I'll do it." She pushes my hand off, revealing a little bit of that horrifying rash that I usually get if I shaved without being careful.
"Yeah. That's the same one I get," I tell Sara. "I'll get her my rash cream." I sigh at Sara's disappointed look. I guess my daughter is beginning to act out. "Meanwhile, you'll probably have to go to school in a skirt or no underwear and thin pants."
"I'll wear my black jumpsuit," she announces, leaving the room with an attitude.
"I'm telling Stacy about this," Sara threatens with her glorious fury.
"Tell her," Sally screams back.
"Fuck Joy," Sara whispers to me. "Fuck her," she says a little louder.
But it seems like it's not all Joy's doing. Sally's just acting out. She's at that age now. Fury. Anger. Hormones. Self-consciousness. Defensiveness. Worry about looks. It's just normal for her as a phase. She's rebelling and it seems like she's working against both mothers not just one.
The good part is that I'm the one she's nice to now while her attitude is awful towards Sara and Stacy. I guess that's where my cool aunt portrait comes in handy. When she's pissed at a mother she tells me and I, Tegan Quin, have to make her feel better. They're your mums. They love you. It's okay, baby. Just do what they say. No, it's fine.
Thing is I'm super worried because she's my daughter and I am still a mother no matter what, but it seems like she's taking the advice from me not from them even if mine is more strict. Are parents just natural enemies to teens just because they are parents? I guess it's just something Sara has to put up with for awhile until Sally's hormones calm down.
On a Tuesday afternoon, Sara calls me crying. At first I assume something's wrong with her because I can only hear a couple of mispronounced words and so much stuttering, but then when she finally stops hiccupping she tells me Sally got suspended for punching a boy in class.
"She's just like you," Sara shouts at me through the phone. "She's a monster like you."
"Sara…" I hear Stacy shush and calm her down.
She's just like me. A monster. Abusive.
"Why did she punch him?" I ask when I get to Sara's place. I had to leave my work because Sara's words hurt me and I couldn't just ask on the phone with her barely letting any words out."
"He called us a couple of pussy-eating dykes," Stacy says, pointing at herself and Sara. "They were having a debate about something and it got heated and he was like how would you know when your mums are pussy-eating dykes?"
"What the fuck?" I scream, anger rising to my brain. "What does this have anything to do with anything?" Stacy shrugs while Sara cries.
"She couldn't shut him up with a remark or tell him to shut the fuck up. She just fucking punched him and broke his nose. Just like that," Sara says with falling tears.
"Maybe it's time we get her on those ADHD meds, Sara," stupid Stacy comments.
"Where is she?" I ask, not paying attention to any of them. Stacy points towards the corridor and I conclude she's in her room.
Sally…my Sally. My little Snowball. You can't be like me. You shouldn't. You're not like me. You are a better person. You are healthy and beautiful. There won't be medication. There won't be therapy. You're a good kid. You're not me. You're not going to hurt people. You're not going to hurt Sara. You're her only hope. You can't turn out like me.
I knock on her door but I am not allowed entrance. I hear soft cries and sniffles, so I push the door slightly and squeeze myself inside.
I find her body lying on the made bed. Eyes are tightly closed with tears falling. Her face is red and her hair is stuck against her cheeks.
I remove my grey blazer and kick my Oxfords off then join her in bed, spooning her and wrapping my arms around her. I rub her arm and shush her, whispering meaningless assurances in her ears.
"It's going to be alright," I promise. "Your mothers love you," I add. "They're just hurt that you had to do this."
She nods with more sniffles.
"Why did you hit him?" She shakes her head. "Please tell me. I am your auntie." She shakes her head. "Did he hurt you badly with his words?" She nods. "What did he say?"
"He called me a lesbian and called my mums pussy-eating dykes."
"So…it's him calling you a lesbian that angered you." Silence. No nod. No shake. "You don't want to be labeled as one because of your mothers." She nods. "And why didn't you tell him that you're not?"
"I did."
"And?"
"Everyone laughed and that's when he said I have to be because my mums are…" Pussy-eating dykes. Of course.
I guess Sara's right. I guess Sally is ashamed of her mothers' sexuality.
"That doesn't mean you hit him, Sally," I whisper. "We usually ignore such ignorant people."
"I couldn't. I was so hurt and angry and I had to do it to feel better."
Yeah. It's like I've heard this mantra before. I've heard it thousands of times. I heard it when I punched Jeremy and broke his nose in high school. I heard it when I attacked Sara and broke her. She made me so angry. I had to hit her to feel good. She wouldn't shut up.
Yup. My daughter is just like me.
"Why are you crying?" she asks me.
I haven't even noticed.
"I am upset." She turns around to face me. "I am upset because Sara is very upset right now."
"I'm sorry," she says. "I promise I won't do it again. I know I made a mistake, but I'm just…"
"Your mum suffered with abuse, Sally," I interrupt. "Terrible one." She's silent. Her eyes are roaming. Inspecting. Big. Blue. Searching. "She thinks you're an abuser or you might become one now. She is sensitive towards it."
"Joy told me," Sally says. "She told me my mum's not alright because she's been hurt badly."
Of course she would warn Sally. Of course she would.
"Did she tell you who abused her?"
"You," Sally says immediately. Her eyes are never leaving mine. The irises are fixed on my own. The truths are all uncovering. "Is it?" I don't answer and this alone is an answer. "I thought she was lying to me." I look down. "Why did you do it?"
"I was ill…I mean I have a mental illness and I hadn't been diagnosed then. I was not on any medication. And you know what my excuse was?" She shakes her head in horror at my raging question. "That she got me angry with her words and that I had to do it." She sits up slowly and I follow. "So your mum is angry and upset because she doesn't want you to be like me. She's scared you'll end up like me."
She resumes her tears and her sniffles and her weeping.
"You have to control your anger, Sally." She nods. "Being a lesbian is not a disgrace. If you're not one, you don't have to prove it so hard. People will eventually figure it out."
"I don't know what I am and I don't care," she says, contradicting herself. "I just don't want to be like you and I don't want to hurt my mummy. I didn't mean to."
Though she's just a child, at least she knows she doesn't want to be like me. At least she knows she shouldn't ever be like me. Maybe if mum had realized my illness ahead, I wouldn't have done all of that to Sara. Maybe if mum had been present in my life as Sara is in Sally's, I would have turned out to be a better kid.
Things move smoothly from then. Sally's rage and hormones calm a little bit down and her attachment to Sara strengthens for awhile. Sometimes Sally comes in the room in the middle of the night and squeezes herself between Sara and me. I end up on the couch or in her room after few more minutes of pushing each other.
She says she will stop sleeping next to her mother once I stop. I won't ever stop, so I guess she won't.
Her grades also go up and her teachers praise her. We stop getting calls from the school or the counselor asking us to take care of a certain issue until I receive one two months after the punching incident asking me to come to school urgently.
"We tried contacting both her mothers but nobody's picking up. Can you please show up right now?"
"Right now?" I pass the folder to my employee and take the next one, opening it to examine the report. "What's wrong?"
"We were just told to contact you and ask you to pick her up. Maybe she's not feeling well." Of course the receptionist doesn't know anything.
I can't right now. I have work. I have a meeting in an hour. I have to send these reports. My dad will fucking lose it if I take a leave because of Sally.
"Can I talk to the principal?"
Where the fuck are Sara and Stacy? Why isn't anybody picking up?
The receptionist forwards my number to the principal but it's useless because I am told to come urgently and she doesn't tell me why.
Another fucking disaster, that's all I can think of.
"Rachel, can you please take care of these folders?" I ask, getting up immediately with my phone in hand dialing up Sara. "My niece's school needs me." It's locked. I try Stacy next. "Looks like there's a catastrophe."
"Sure, don't worry." She stands up, collecting the yellow folders in her hand. "They'll be done once you're back."
"I'll try not to be late." Stacy's rings but nobody picks up. I text her that I am going to pick up Sally from school and she should call me as soon as she sees the text. I text Sara the same thing hoping she'd see it once her phone is unlocked. "I just need her mothers to pick up their phones." I sigh, grabbing my long black coat and walk out.
I drive as quickly as possible in the cold of December, thousands of possibilities in my brain about Sally's disaster. She might have hit someone else. Cheated on a test? Maybe. I think she has a final or something today. Maybe she's vaping. Caught vaping? Maybe she bullied someone…or got bullied. Maybe she hit a teacher this time. God, no.
I get out of the car and run inside, asking for the receptionist to call Sally for me, but I am quickly sent to the principal's office where I find the counselor, a teacher, and Sally looking as pale as a ghost in some boy's pants.
"What's going on?" I ask, breathing in and out at Sally's stunned face. She's seated alone at the end of the room, looking guilty as ever.
"Why aren't her mothers picking up?" her principal asks. "We've been trying to contact them for the past two hours until she gave us your number." I look back at Sally's blank face then at the faces in the room. "Sit down, please."
I take a seat, still thinking about all the horrible possibilities out there. Did they catch her with a boy or something? She's in grade six for crying out loud. It can't be!
"I am Sally's math teacher," the teacher says. She extends her arm out and I take her hand to shake it. "You don't need to worry. It's nothing, really."
"It's nothing?" I exclaim. "You made me leave my work and drive here like a crazy bitch refusing to tell me what's up and it's nothing?"
"Ms. Quin, calm down," the counselor asks. "Ms. Drew found Sally hiding in the bathroom after skipping three classes straight."
"What?" I look at Sally who doesn't give me any reaction. "Why?"
"She started her first period and didn't know what to do or who to tell so she hid herself in the stall until her friend told me where she is and why she's hiding," the teacher says.
"Oh." I look back at Sally whose face is red now. "Are you okay, Sally?" She nods quickly.
"She's fine. We gave her a pad and some old lost and found pants because hers is stained," the counselor adds. "We put everything here." She hands me a paper bag that has Sally's clothes in it.
"We think she should go home and rest for the day," the principal adds. "Maybe you should talk to her and let her know that there's nothing to be embarrassed about. She should just tell the nurse or the counselor if such things happen to her."
"Yes, sure." I stand up, extending my arm again to shake the principal's hand. "Thank you."
I grab Sally's hand and walk out. She's obviously embarrassed and shaken. Poor baby, I've always known this day would come and somehow I totally forgot about it.
I let her get in the car first before I talk to her. "Are you okay?" I ask again.
"Yeah," she answers in a weak voice.
"Do you have cramps?" She nods quickly. "You know it's fine, right?"
"Yes," she says. "You don't have to give me the talk. I know it." She shifts around in her seat uncomfortably. "I just wanna go home," she says. She's going to cry and she shouldn't because it's a natural thing and she should accept it.
I begin moving the car while partially looking at her. "Okay, I just need to stop at a grocery store or a pharmacy or something to get you some pads because the ones Sara has are like huge maxi ones which will probably be very uncomfortable for you." I don't think she's old enough for a tampon or for Sara to let me give her one. Sara is so anti-tampons, anyway.
I decide to stop at a grocery store to get her some mac and cheese to make her feel better. She needs comfort food right now. "Do you wanna come with me?" She shakes her head right away and very quickly. "Alright, I won't be long." I lean in and give her cheek a kiss. "I'll leave the car on so you can listen to the radio." I smile and get out.
Sara and Stacy still haven't returned my calls and I am beginning to get worried. Maybe I should call the school and ask whether something is going on. I can handle this alone. I should handle it, but Sally looks terrified. I thought Sara had normalized periods for her so I don't get why she's so horrified. Maybe she's in pain. Maybe her cramps are bad. First periods suck anyway.
I grab the things I need and some fruits, too. I am going to make her some juice or a fruit salad. I want her to feel better.
When I get in the car, I notice how sickly yellowish in hue her face is. "You're so pale," I comment. "Are you bleeding too much?"
"I don't know," she whispers. Of course she doesn't. Do girls bleed a lot during their first periods?
"What happened?" I ask. "I mean…how did you…" I don't know how to ask her. I am terrible and awkward.
"We were taking a history exam and when I finished, I noticed there's blood on my jeans…in the crotch area." she says. Poor Sally. During a fucking exam. "I was so scared that if I got up people would notice so I waited till like everyone left and I squeezed myself between them and ran to the bathroom." She begins crying.
"Snowball, don't cry, honey." I reach my hand and squeeze her shoulder. "This is a very normal thing."
"I was so lost. I didn't know what to do. None of my friends have this." She takes a deep breath and sniffles. "I called Brianna and told her to get to the bathroom and she didn't know what to do and she couldn't miss her own history test since she takes a different class." I park the car down Sara's building and face Sally to hear her. "I called mummy and mama and nobody picked up at all. Then Brianna came back with Ms. Drew because she's the only teacher I actually like and trust and she took me to the nurse."
"Aww." I lean in to give her a hug, rubbing her back gently. "I'm so sorry it happened to you in school."
"The nurse gave me underwear." I grimace immediately but then she explains, "No. It's a new one. She keeps like new undies for girls like me." She wipes her tears and sighs. "Then she taught me how to like put a pad on and they took me to the counselor to give me the talk. They thought I was so shocked because I didn't know it, but I told them I did. I just didn't know what to do. The counselor suggested I should go home and rest and…yeah. I'm sorry you had to leave your job. I just…couldn't stay there in these pants." She motions at the lost and found baggy pants she's wearing.
"It's alright, Snowball." I give her another shoulder squeeze. "Work can wait, sweetheart." I open the car door and get down. "Come on. I got you mac and cheese. Let's go inside and I'll make you a nice meal and give you a heating pad. You'll feel much better."
I check my phone inside. Nothing. I send another text telling them both I am at Sara's place with Sally and if something is wrong they need to tell me.
"Sally," I call while I put everything away in the kitchen. "Take these pads, honey."
She walks in and grabs them, staring at them for a moment then blankly at my face.
"I know. Disgusting. That's why I use tampons."
"Can I use tampons?" she asks.
"Umm…I'm not sure if your mum will let me…well, you have to learn how to use them and it's…"
"But these are terrible. What's the point when the blood keeps staining the underwear?"
"Why?" I ask with furrowed brows as I take a pot out to fill it with water for the mac and cheese. "Are you bleeding that much?"
"I don't know?"
"Then how come there's blood on your underwear?"
"Because that's how…"
"Wait. Did you put it correctly?" She opens her mouth to speak then stops and shrugs. "How did you put the pad?" I chuckle a little while putting the bags of fruits on the kitchen table.
"Like they told me," she says.
"And?" I open Sara's top cabinet to search for the heating pad I know she keeps somewhere in here. "How?"
"I stuck it on the underwear," she says.
"Okay? Yes, that's how it is."
"Yes, but like the blood goes on the underwear and like because the pad is there…"
"Wait," I scream with laughter—loud laughter that horrifies her. "Did you stick the pad like after you wore the underwear and like from the bottom?"
"Uh…"
"If I pull your pants down right now I'll find the pad, right?" She nods. "Holy shit, Sally." I laugh more, making her feel more embarrassed. "For a very smart person that's the dumbest move I've ever seen."
"But…she…"
"No, honey. You stick it inside of the underwear." I sigh and leave the heating pad on the table. "Come here. I'll show you."
"N…no…" I grab her hand and pull her to her bedroom.
"Sara and Stacy did a wonderful job talking to you about this," I say sarcastically. "Where's your underwear drawer?" She points at the lowest drawer in her dresser. "Give me a pad."
I open the drawer and pick the best option out of the very awful selection of colorful undies she has. "You should get some period underwear. Something tight and like dark colored and is okay to ruin." I take the pad from her and begin to demonstrate how she should put one. "This is your underwear. You wear it basically and you peel the tape on the pad and stick it right here." I do as I say, watching her face burn with bright colors of bashfulness. Then you take the peel off the wings and you put them right here so that you won't leak from the side."
"Oh…that's what these are for."
"Yup. It's easy." I chuckle a little, handing her the underwear. "Go put that on."
When I get back to the kitchen, I find more than ten missed calls from both Sara and Stacy. I have received multiple text messages from both of them panicking and scared. Three voicemails from Sara and two from Stacy. They're both crying in all the voicemails, scared something is going on with Sally. Jesus, I literally left for two minutes.
I dial up Sara's number immediately to reassure her that everything is alright. She responds from the first ring, crying and stuttering and hiccupping while asking if her daughter is okay.
"Calm down, Jesus," I scream. "Calm down," I repeat. "She's fine. She started her period at school."
"Fuck you, Tegan," she screams back loudly. I can hear the noises of the cars on the road. I can hear Stacy's worried voice asking and wondering. "Fuck you," she screams again. "I thought something happened to my baby."
"No…fuck you," I yell. "I was called by the school and they didn't tell me so I panicked and kept calling until I got there."
"You could have texted what's wrong afterward. I think I just got a mini heart attack."
"I…"
"She got her first period?" she interrupts me, voice finally calm with a soft wheezing sound coming out of her lungs.
"Yes. At school. She hid in the bathroom for three periods until her teacher found her and took her to the nurse. She put her pad wrong, too. I taught her how, though. She's in bed now and I'm making her some mac and cheese."
"Stacy and I are on our way home," she says with one last sniffle. "Is she okay? Hurt?"
"She has cramps."
"My baby," she whispers to herself.
Sara can be overdramatic but, honestly, right now her overwhelming outburst is making me a bit jealous. Even Stacy's reaction. I didn't have this. I didn't panic like that. Am I not an enough mother or am I cold hearted? Do I not know what they feel? Maybe it's about experiences. I don't have theirs despite spending most of my time around Sally. I'm just an aunt to her.
I take the heating pad and ibuprofen to her. It's the least I can do right now to make her feel better. She's in her pajamas in bed, her purple blanket up to her chin. "Look what I got you," I mutter when I sit next to her. "This heating pad is going to help a lot with the cramps." She nods, taking it from me.
"I've seen mum using it." She places it on her pelvic area, closing her eyes momentarily. "Thank you, auntie T."
"No need, my love." I kiss her head and hand her the painkiller which she stares at curiously. "This is ibuprofen. It's a painkiller. Swallow it so you can feel better."
"Okay." I give her the water bottle and she chugs some. "How long is it going to last?"
"Maybe seven days." She nods. "Maybe less." She nods again. "Your mum and I usually spend seven to eight days so you're probably the same." This time she just closes her eyes. "Are you okay?"
"I am," she says. "It just really hurts. No wonder mummy used to cry sometimes." Sara never really cried because of her cramps. She just blamed it on cramps so she wouldn't have to explain to Sally.
"Now you took the pill, you'll feel better." I hear the door click open and Sally sits up straight, knowing it's her mother coming inside.
"Sally?" we hear the panicking tone that Sara and Stacy carry as they call together. "Tegan?" Sara calls separately at the door of Sally's bedroom.
"Oh, Snowball." She rushes in with Stacy following. Both of them squeeze her in a hug I can clearly see she's not comfortable receiving. They kiss her face and start talking together about her starting her period.
I squeeze myself out from underneath Stacy's strong perfume and walk out of the room. It's their moment with their daughter and I am not included. I leave to the kitchen, waiting for the food to be prepared. I start brewing coffee, taking my phone and calling my secretary informing him I'm not coming back to work. I don't even feel well.
When I sit on the chair in the kitchen, I realize why I don't feel well. I thought these cramps I've had for the past hour are just my motherly instinct acting up feeling what my daughter is feeling. I guess I've started, too.
Before I get up to the bathroom, dad calls. I know what this call is and when I pick it up I am not disappointed: it's just a call of reproach that I have left work because of my niece.
"I had to pick her up from school," I whisper angrily. "Sara wasn't picking up."
"What about the other one?" He means Stacy.
"Neither was she." I grit my teeth, feeling the sharp pain of cramps and sadness mush together. "She's my kid, too."
"All I know is that the meeting was so important and the clients are more important than this."
"My daughter getting her first period and hiding in a bathroom stall for three fucking hours straight because she's embarrassed and scared is more important than any fucking client you have and if you can't sympathize with that, it's not my problem. You were never a good dad, anyway."
"You're saying things you're going to regret." Maybe, but at least I am not him. "This is your last warning, Tegan."
"Last warning?" I bite on my lower lip, fighting the tears from running down my eyes. Old Tegan without medication would have broken this whole table with her fist. Tegan now just cries pathetically when she's angered. "You want to let me go? That's your warning? Thank you, dad."
I end the call before I lose all my senses and the waterworks begin to rain. I cry in my hand until I'm met with both Sara and Stacy questioning me about it.
"I'm fine. I'm fine." I take a deep breath and wipe my tears. "I just had an argument with my dad." The last thing I want is to show how weak I am in front of Stacy. "Why didn't you pick up?"
"We were in a closed meeting with some girl's parents," Sara answers. "I'm so sorry you had to leave…"
"No, Sara. Don't. She's my kid," I make sure to say, emphasizing the possessive pronoun so that Stacy can get a taste of my own pain. "I just worried."
"Well, a student was caught sneaking drugs in the bathroom," Sara explains. "We had to sit with the parents of multiple students and especially hers." I can see that both of them are exhausted and not in the mood. I nod to Sara, indicating that it's okay and that I understand now. "Thank you for helping Sally."
"No need, honey," I say. This time I don't intent saying that. It just slips out, but it makes Stacy jump and I can see it clearly. "I think I started, too. Let me go check." I sigh, leaving the kitchen and heading towards the bathroom where my thoughts are proved correct.
Stacy leaves and Sara takes over the kitchen while Sally naps. Meanwhile, I spend a portion of my time talking to my mum and my dad to fix the argument that happened earlier. My mum thinks I should apologize even though I am not entirely wrong, and my dad tries to explain that he was not threatening to let me go and that I disrespected him.
My dad is controlling me, that's what I think. He's in charge of my financial wealth and my own independence. He has shaped me to be this person who only thinks business, and only his business. I don't have a life other than my dad's needs. He wasn't such a dictator back in the days. I was able to take a leave or have a vacation or some time off. He was okay with that for the sake of my mental health. I don't know what happened to him after Sally. I get it that he used to hate me spending time with her because he thought I would be super attached, but I proved everyone that I can spend time with her and still act like an aunt, doing my work perfectly and supporting her financially without her knowing. He doesn't mind that I do support her financially, but I can't help but feel like his threats are him telling me that if you don't work well your kid won't go to college.
I can't just confront him about all of this right now in Sara's place with Sally asleep in the next room. All I can do is hum, say yes, and apologize when he does it. I can't afford leaving the job, anyway. I have Sally's expenses and my own.
Sara wakes Sally up when the food is ready. I go home to change into comfy yoga pants and a hoodie then come back to find the food on the table with Sally sitting there, waiting for Sara and I to sit.
"How are you feeling, Snowball?" I ask, taking a seat opposite from her.
"I'm good," she says, yawning.
"Your auntie started her period too, Sally," Sara reveals. I smile at my kid as she nods, munching on sautéed green beans. I see that Sara made more food. "Well, if this isn't a moody table." She joins me, handing me a glass of red wine while sipping her own in the other hand. "Ahh, so good."
"I'm spending the night here," I announce while chewing. Sally lifts her face up, smiling cunningly, knowing exactly I'm trying to tease her. "In your bed, Sara."
"Fine by me." Sara knows it, too. Her faint giggle is harbored by her chewing.
"Me, too," Sally announces, making both Sara and I laugh loudly. "What?"
"I knew you'd say that." She rolls her eyes playfully at me. "This time you're not squeezing me out of bed. I need the cuddles, too."
"It looks like you both are going to squeeze me out of bed," Sara comments. "If my bed is so magical, why don't you just sleep on it and I'll sleep in Sally's bed?" I know she's joking, teasing me more than Sally.
"It's not the bed that's magical. It's you, mummy." I lift my eyebrows up, impressed at Sally's response.
"I am flattered," Sara says, blushing while her eyes are scanning my own. The moment Sally looks away, I wink at her and kick her foot underneath the table.
Sara makes popcorn and gives us some candy as all of us three cuddle in bed watching Home Alone 2: Lost in New York which is my favorite Christmas movie. Sally thinks it's too old but she's the youngest and is squeezed in the middle so her opinion isn't as strong as mine or Sara's is. She falls asleep halfway through the movie, anyway. Sara decides to turn it off to let her sleep calmly.
"Thank you," she whispers to me in the dark silence of the room once the TV is off. "I love you so much."
I reach for her hand, take it in mine while Sally's locked in the middle of our hands, and kiss her knuckles because that's the only thing I can do right now even though I wish I can kiss her endlessly.