Thank you, my dear Gues Lils. I do appreciate your time and how much you enjoy this story!
September 2018
"She'll be okay?" I ask Ms. Mary Vance, who ran the Mrs. Elliot Bright Beginnings Daycare that was down the road from the school. Mary Vance was the niece of Mrs. Cornelia Elliot, who graduated from some fancy program about child development. I swore I saw Mom more than once stifle a laugh when Mrs. Elliot was bragging about her niece.
"She'll be fine, we did a test run last week and she did very well. We'll send you updates as promised." Mary tells me.
"Rilla we're going to be late, and Mary needs to get on with her day," Mom warns me from the doorway.
I sigh and kiss Owens hair. "I'll see you in a few hours for lunch," I hand her over, as I struggle to keep calm. I didn't think it be this hard, sure she goes with Ken often enough since I spent most of the week, avoiding seeing him as much as possible. But this was different, this was like torture to my soul.
"This her stuff, extra clothing, some of her unscented diaper cream, wipes. There's a few ounces of milk in the cooler part in case of an emergency. She's not the greatest bottle taker," I ramble off.
"I know, if it's an issue we'll call you," Mary tells me. "You'll pick her up today?"
Mom wraps her arm around me and I nod my head, leading me out of the foyer of the day-care.
"No one else can pick her up!" I blurt out and Mary laughed lightly at me.
"Only approved people can pick her up. We have you and your mom and Kenneth Ford as approved people on your list. We usually double-check who is picking up upon drop-off, if there is a change we ask you to call." She repeats the policy to reassure me.
We walk down to the school, it's less than a ten-minute walk. I wrap my arms around me as I walk. My skirt fits again thanks to Di, a clever move of a button, and mom had bought me some new blouses which fit the set of boobs I had going on from nursing.
"She'll be fine Rilla," Mom tries to tell me. "You'll be fine, it's just school."
"Somewhere I haven't been since last April," I remind her. "And I was thirty-five weeks pregnant," I remind her. "God, I can imagine the rumours they had started since then."
"Just ignore them," Mom says with a sigh.
"Easy enough for you to say, at least when you want back to school after Joy it was college. I'm sure no one cared that you were 19 and married with a baby," I remind her.
"College still wasn't easy Rilla," Mom give me a look. "If anything I kept getting questioned why I wasn't home with the baby."
"I see Olivia," I tell her and I see Olivia waving wildly at me.
"Go on," She says sighing. "Text me if you need anything."
I nod my head and jog over to Olivia giving her a large hug.
"How are you doing?" She asks, knowing just how the past week has been for me. I shrug, she already knew how much I laid in bed, listening to All too Well on repeat by Taylor Swift. Or really most of her discography with Nan before she went back to school herself She reaches up to touch one of my shorter face-framing curls. I had finally used that gift card from Joy. I had cut off a good chunk of hair so it was back just below my shoulders again. Long enough to put into a bun for dance, but short enough that it wasn't as heavy anymore. "You cut your hair!"
"Yeah, it needed it?" I tell her. "How are you? Did he call last night?" I ask, meaning her father.
"He was a half-hour late, but yeah he called," She said quietly. "It was 10 minutes of awkward silence when I told him that school hadn't started yet. Then he asked if I got the gift card he sent for school supplies, I thanked him, and said we had to order online because we didn't have the store here on the island." Olivia explained. "I mean it would have taken two minutes to check that on Google?"
"He tried though?" I say trying to be positive for her.
"I suppose so," She says sighing but then gathers herself for a moment before smiling. "Ready for senior year?" She asks me.
"I am, and I pray that I don't leak on anything my first day back," I tell her.
Arm in arm, we both take a deep breath as we walk through the main doors of the school. This was it, this was school. Luckily we had the same first period, which means we would have nearby lockers this year which would be fun.
It doesn't take long to get to our History classroom which was on the second floor. We set down beside each other and wait for the teacher. Everyone is talking amongst each other and not many realize I am back.
As usual, we stand up for O'Canada and listen to the morning announcements.
"All right class!" The teacher calls out. "I know we all want our lockers, but a few reminders for the school year. Dress code is expected like years before, just because your seniors doesn't mean you can shuck it to the side. Yes, you have casual Fridays, every other week, but you still are setting examples for the younger students in the school. Second, grades are important this year, please if you want to get into a good school to try your best. Third, for the greater good of the school, please no class pranks and no initiation of grade nines." She tells us.
"Now, I will run through attendance and assign your lockers, please do not switch!" She reminds us.
"Olivia Bertrand," the teacher calls up from the top of her list.
"Here," Olivia calls out, raising her hand.
"Thank you, your locker number is 316," She tells Olivia. "Rilla Blythe," she calls my name next.
"Here," I say raising my hand quietly, then I hear it quietly behind me.
'Didn't she just have a baby, why isn't she fat?'
"Thank you, Miss Blythe, it's lovely to see you back, you will be in 317," She tells me before moving on. "Sadie Carter?"
We get a few minutes to go to our lockers and drop our bags, before going back to begin the first History class of the year. Maybe this wouldn't be that bad? I thought as I found myself racing to the next classes like all the times before. Except for this time on the stairs I heard it.
'Has anyone ever seen the kid?'
'Probably ashamed of it…'
'I heard she made it up to get out of school, I mean she doesn't look like she had a baby'
'No, they made her give it away. The principal couldn't have the little brat at home, it wouldn't look with the school board.'
I sigh and sink into my seat in French class. Mademoiselle Bruneau smiles at me.
"Glad to see you back," She says to me in French, though as she looks at my face, crestfallen from the comments I had just heard. "Do you have any pictures?" She asks with a smile and I nod my head and pull out my phone.
"Her name is Elowen," I say, also in French, showing off one of her more adorable photos. "I call her Owen for short," I explain.
"Oh, Cherie," my teacher says touching her heart. "Adorable," she adds on. I can feel eyes on us and I quietly take my seat, silently happy that I hadn't really lost much of my French and wait for her to begin her first lesson.
I have Olivia waiting for me, as I am racing towards my locker. "I need to get to the daycare pronto," I tell her. "I feel like I'm about to burst, and apparently she's hungry as well?" I tell her as she catches up to me as we leave through the side doors.
"So what's the gossip like?" I ask her walking quickly.
"It's not that bad actually?" She tells me.
"Really? I heard that I gave her away, made it up and was called a skinny bitch in one staircase," I tell her.
"Well, if you put it that way?" Olivia said with a shake of her head. "I heard your parents kicked you out and are living with the dad."
"I mean I was at one point," I remind her. "Not much a rumour?"
"Well, on the positive side you don't have gym class, which means no one can comment on the state of your nipples?" Olivia reminds me.
"They aren't that bad! They just are showing more than before?" I say brow furrowing. "The lactation nurse said it was quite normal,"
We get to the daycare in record time, and Mary looks at me and shows me and Olivia to a quiet area and passes me Owen who was not happy with waiting.
"We don't usually allow non-parents in," she says quietly. "For today I'll let it pass but, either she'll have to wait outside or you'll have to go outside," she explained sympathetically. "We also tried to give her a bottle, to tide her over, but yeah she kept refusing," She told me and I sighed.
I feed Owen, as Olivia and I eat lunch. For me, it's one-handed foods, fresh cut-up vegetables, and some peanut butter, raisin celery sticks. She's pretty good at conquering a boob in under ten minutes, which meant by the time she was finished and burped and changed we were rushing back to school.
Olivia races off to her own class, which was nearer than mine.
"See you," I tell her.
"You gotcha!" She called after me, as I reach the doors I needed to go into. I grab my pencil case and binder from my locker and raced up down the halls to creative writing.
I sneak through the door as she was closing it as her eyebrows raised. "You're late."
"I'm sorry," I say.
"Don't let it happen again, Miss?" She asked looking at her list.
"Blythe, Rilla Blythe, or Marilla, not sure what it actually says on the attendance sheet?" I tell her.
"Blythe?" She asks. "As in Principal Blythe?" She asks once more taking in my red hair.
"Uhh," I say, that something I don't usually like owning up to.
"That's her mom," someone shuts out. She looks at me sharply and I only nod my head, letting my hair fall in my face.
"Just because your mother is the principal, doesn't mean I will tolerate tardiness," she tells me sternly.
"I don't expect you to," I retort under my breath as I find an empty seat near the back of the room.
The class goes well as expected, after being late for it. What is expected of us and how she wants us to write longhand in class, but have our final project typed up as a manuscript.
I watch the clock, and with when the bell rings.
Another race against the clock, as I race down the stairs to the music wing. I can hear it behind him. High pitched whispers around me again.
'I've seen them a few times together, it's gross how he would look at her. like dude you're old'
'Like, really old. What is he, a university professor?'
'He's at least 26...'
'I heard he was 30. Can you imagine sleeping with someone that old? So gross, like how much of a slut are you?'
Seriously? Ken looked nowhere near 30 years old and for a short moment. I almost stopped to tell him how hilarious the rumours were before remembering. I sighed and pocketed my phone in my cardigan sat near Olivia who was already in the classroom.
"Welcome seniors to music class, if you made it this far. Congratulations you can play an instrument fairly well, so this year we are going to work on a variety of things, and harder songs. Does anyone want to switch up instruments this year?"
No one raises their hand.
"All right then," Mr. Drew chuckles.
"Olivia, Sasha, Brandon and Alex, go find your clarinets. Rilla, Emma, Katie, you may find your flutes," He told us. "Nice to see you back as well Rilla. I hope everything is going all right for you? I hope we can use your voice for the concert this year?"
I smile weakly at him. "We'll see? I'm not sure how everything will go with school and work, and well…" I tell him quietly.
Olivia looks at me confused, never hearing me sing more than a random pop song from the radio.
"Oh, of course, no pressure what so ever" Mr. Drew nods his head, trying to make me feel less obligated.
'I heard she only got that job in town because her mum bribed the dance teacher with a huge donation.'
'She was working there even before they, but I'm sure they threatened the dance studio's legal action if they tried to fire her….'
'Well, obviously because no one would hire her after that. Who wants their kid getting ballet shoes from someone so irresponsible.'
"Maggie, Sarah," he calls out and they stop whispering. "It seems that the oboes are out for repairs, so you will be playing the trombones this year for the opening assembly."
"But!" They call out. "That not fair, they are hideous!"
"It's what is available," he tells them, and I look at Olivia who grins.
With School, came a new schedule. One we figured out before I kissed him before he decided he needed some space. Owen would do daycare Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, while he would take her Wednesday, on his day off. It had been planned that I would go over to his place, as it was just as far as the daycare, only in another direction. Or if he was needing to go out he would bring her to school and I could use one of the rooms in the office. If I worked or had had counselling he would take her in the evenings, while the nights I was free would be my time with her. On weekends he would have his time with her Saturday morning while I worked at the dance studio and shop, bringing her to me around noon so I would be able to feed her.
Something I wasn't entirely looking forward to, with the latest development that was us.
Though at least we go solo time, separation from each other these days? Either way, I had started a schedule that was colour-coded in my bullet journal to help keep track of everything. Olivia glanced at it with bulging eyes, as she realized just how scheduled my days were. Pink for when Owen was with me, Blue for Ken, Green for daycare, yellow for parents or siblings, my schedule, his schedule. It was a jumbled mess but it worked for me.
The first day was as it was, the second came( while Wednesday Ken had been asked to fill in for someone), and then the third which meant I would go to school. Then afterwards I would awkwardly drop off Owen at Ken's after she had her four pm meal and then go to work for the first time since the springtime.
Taking the familiar bus felt oddly normal, as I got off at my stop. I sighed a little as I walked the short distance to the dance studio. I took a deep breath before I used the key Tess gave me to get through the side door of the studio. She messaged saying she was running a few minutes later, so I ate dinner in the small lounge area before I went to change into my dancewear
I only tried on a few things at home, refusing to look at myself in the mirror until now. Now I was running my hand over my stomach that was covered in my leotard. Bra, tights, leotard, skirt, ballet shoes and breast pads because having leaking boobs was just a fact of life. Four months, almost five since I had her, and I still didn't quite feel like myself. Would I ever at this point?
"Look at you," Tessa said as I pass by her office. "You know you don't have to wear black," she reminds me. I look down at my black Leo, there was a variety of reason why I choose it, but ultimately black was the most slimming after all.
"Sadly it's the few that fits with the whole upper half situation," I explain. I didn't want anything too tight, but I need support.
"Well, I know for a fact that you have a lovely blue and green one of similar style," Tessa reminds me as she beckons me to follow her to the studio. Her sandals tapping as she walked, where my feet were already graced with a pair of ballet slippers.
"Miss Rilla you're back!" I hear as we turn the corner, all the little girls who knew me came rushing forward.
"Miss Rilla!"
"You're Back!"
"You're no longer fat!" I can see some parents wince at their words. I wince at their words.
"Bella!" Tessa calls out. "Don't be rude, we all know that Miss Rilla took some time off and had a baby. Now that she is back she is going to be helping with the class again."
"What was it!" Another one asked
"What did you have?!"
"I had a little girl, I can show you a photo after I class, now line up at the barre!" I call out. "The first position please," I call out.
And so forth my first shift back at work began, as I demonstrated and helped Tessa with the little girls.
"Did you wear big underwear? My mom wore a lot of big underwear after she had my baby brother." One asks and I choked back my shock. "I also saw her boobies a lot because he was always hungry."
"Talia, pay attention please," Tessa calls out and I mouth a thank you to her. I run through class with Tessa as my body remembers the muscle memory in a way. I remember the warm-up and exercises she teaches. I look around the room, wondering if one day Owen might be in the very room, dancing. I wouldn't pressure her to do it, but it would be wonderful to share my love of dance with her in some way.
"Holy he—, moly," I correct myself. "I am so not in shape," I huff. "Class never felt this hard," I explain.
"It's because you're demonstrating three times more, than what you would do in the class itself," Tessa laughed. "You'll work back up to it, just don't push yourself. Have a warm bath tonight when you get home."
"You mean after I finish the homework I already have?" I say with a sigh.
"It's the third day of school?" Tessa looks me shocked.
"Well, tell that to my creative writing class," I say with a sigh.
"Well, good luck with that," Tessa smiles sadly. "If this ever becomes too much—," she starts.
"It won't," I try to reassure her. "It will be nice, good to have some money coming in from my own doing," I say quietly. "It's less pressure on my parents."
My parents looked a little worried when I had told them I was planning on working three shifts a week at the dance studio. They had tried to get me to reconsider, that it wasn't needed but I had stood my ground. I wanted money of my own, I wanted to try and help pay for daycare when I knew wasn't exactly cheap. Not to mention, soon enough Owen would begin solids, which would add to the grocery bill.
"That boy of yours is helping out isn't he?" Tessa asks looking at me curiously.
"Ken yeah he sends whatever he can for her," I say quietly avoiding her gaze. "Anyway, I should get changed dad is picking me up tonight," I tell her smiling weakly.
Dad is waiting for me, outside of the car when I help Tessa lock up. He hands me the keys and I stare at him. "We're in Charlottetown?" I remind him.
"We are, and it's not busy and you need the practice of some light city driving," he tells me. "You know how to get home, if you need help with the roads I'm here to help you." He reminds me.
I sigh and hit the button that is preset for my short legs and fixes my mirror. "What about the traffic lights?" I ask panicked.
"Well, red means stops, green means go," Dad chuckles. "You can do this Rilla, I'm seen you do far more impressive things than managing driving through an intersection."
I shake my head, and while I ask basic questions to make sure I was in the right lane. It's far less frightening than I expected to navigate up to the highway that would bring us home.
"You can speed up a bit over the bridge," Dad reminds me that it's okay to do 70 over the bridge. "Ken knows we're coming to pick her up?"
"I messaged him," I said looking out to the road.
"How was school the past few days?" Dad asked making small talk.
"It's school? Their favourite thing to do is makeup stories about what happened?" I tell him. "I've heard every sort of rumour and story imaginable, it doesn't even phase me much, because it's just ridiculous?"
"Which is a good sign," Dad said was a small smile. "Did you eat dinner before going to work?"
"I had chicken and salad at work, you know what you packed for me," I tell him to remind him with an eye roll. They really took to the whole, make sure I was eating to the next level. "I'll have a banana smoothie for an after-class snack," I tell him and he nods his head in agreement. I also know if he doesn't see me make it for myself, he'll make it for me.
We stay silent as I turn down the exit that brought us to Glen, St Mary and pulled into the parking lot to where Ken lived. I could see him out on the balcony waiting for us.
I put the car in to park and get out to meet him by the door. She was asleep in her car seat when he appeared down the stairs. The bag I packed, that contained her health card, and birth certificate in it was on his shoulder as well.
"How was she," I ask taking her from him, and the bag.
"She was fine, she wouldn't take a bottle but I got her to drink a bit from a regular glass?" He tells me still watching me try and look anywhere than him. "Diaper is fresh, and I bathed her. You cut your hair?" He says, as I automatically touched my shorter hair. I had already twisted it up in a bun when I dropped off Owen early, but I had taken it out when dad picked me up from work.
"Oh, yeah, it needed it. " I say, not wanting to get into any small talk right now with him. "Well, I need to get home," I tell him avoiding his gaze.
"Of course," He nods his head, but I can him sigh. "I'll be up for when you drop her off Saturday morning for when you go to work again?"
"Yeah, sounds good," I tell him. "Night," I say before turning around and leaving the entryway.
I half expect Dad to be on the driver's side now, but he's still on the passenger side.
"I can't drive with her!" I exclaim loud enough that she makes a noise and moves in her car seat.
"You're going to have to at some point, might as well be tonight," Dad tells me, much like his city driving argument.
I'm a cautious driver, to begin with, but driving with Owen in the car had me paranoid.
"Relax, just drive and be careful as you always are," he tells me. "You may wish to take a long way though, they are doing road work Ferry Rd." He tells me.
"Great," I say under my breath as I turn back, up towards the highway once more. I almost forgot Owen was in the backseat when I heard her babble and kick her feet around. I stopped at my stop sign, looking even direction as no one else was around, but as soon as I put my foot back on the gas peddle. Slowly bringing the car motion, gaining speed, before I saw it in the corner of my eye. I slammed on the breaks as Dad's arm shot out, holding me back, as some idiot on a motorbike blew past his stop sign.
"It's okay, take a deep breath, you saw it in time. Owen barely felt the lurch," he tells me as I just have every scenario run through my mind. "Just go through the intersection and pull over to the curb, put on your hazards." He instructs me and I carefully do what he says. "It's okay, just breath, and shake it out." He tells me as I take a shaky sip of water. I'm crying because I don't want to continue, but I know he will want me to. I'm crying because of all the times I have to slam on the breaks, I have my daughter in the car.
Dad waits for me to calm down, but Owen doesn't as her babbles turn into short cries with every passing moment. I diligently check my mirrors, and roads before I pull back out onto the road. Trying to give my dad some sort of a fake I got it all together smile.
I somehow make it home, going slow as I possibly can, which is essentially the speed limit. I eat my banana smoothie as promised before going to feed Owen and to have that bath, thinking it would clear my mind before I even attempted homework. I propped Owen up on my chest, letting her rest in the warm water with me. Letting her feed as I cuddled her, not caring if she already had a bath or not.
I just needed these baby cuddles, and if I had to choose between homework and baby snuggles? I would always choose the snuggles.