February-2019

I peel off Owen's winter wear after I slip into an empty booth of the coffee shop that I stopped at after Owen's nine-month well-baby check-up. Ken had gone back to work leaving me with the rest of the afternoon. I pull out my school work that was due for the next day and placed Owen my lap.

"Do you want a booster for her?" The barista asks as she drops off my coffee for me. "She can sit up by herself?"

"She can," I say nodding my head. "Thank you as well for bringing my drink over to me."

"No worries," She tells me and goes to the corner at the cash and picks up a booster for places it on the booth beside me before attaching it to the table. "There you go, if you need anything else, just let me know." She smiles at me and I nod my head.

I place Owen in the booster, rifle through her bag and find her package of food I threw in for the occasion. I also grabbed her bib and spoon from another section.

"Ready for lunch?" I ask her, waving her spoon in front of her face.

"La-la," Owen says back to me, her wide grey-green eyes watching me. "Da-da," she adds on and I laugh as I airplane a spoonful of some sort of puree mom bought that she liked. For dinner and breakfast she tended to eat more finger food but being out I wanted to keep the mess to a minimum.

"Do you like that?" I ask her, my voice high as I bop her nose. She giggles and splatters food from her mouth. I clean it up quickly not caring too much about my clothing. "Yes, you like lunchtime don't you?"

She laughs and makes a few sounds before giving me a look of 'Mom hurry up'. It throws me for a good second, of course I know she's mine. She's my baby after all, but that look sent something into my soul.

I am Mommy to her. I am her mother.

She reaches for the spoon I'm holding, I feed another spoonful before I see my phone buzz.

It was Ken sending probably a dozen photos he had taken before I came here that are still fresh in my mind.

"Owen," Ken calls out holding his camera in his hand. "Look up muffin," he tries to get her attention after we plopped her down in a mound of fresh snow.

She didn't know exactly what to do or make of it yet.

She dressed up in a snowsuit, mittens, pompom toque, only her cheeks were exposed to the cool weather of winter. She looked around at the white stuff around, hesitantly batting a mittened hand at it.

She looked up at us before she shrieked holding up her arms to Ken.

"Oh precious," Ken says scooping her up. "It's just snow, you'll like playing in it one day with Jack," he says kissing her cheek.

We had stopped in a park across from the hospital before Ken had to go back to work. Ken wanted to grab a few photos for his mother of Owen in the snow. Something we hadn't done much yet.

The photos are adorable, though he has that knack to take good photos. There is even one of me holding her facing forward, me in my white winter jacket and tall winter boots that my winter leggings were tucked into. My reddish hair shining in the sunlight on the cool winter day.

I send him a few of the photos that I had taken of him and Owen to send to his parents. His dark jeans and dark blue winter jacket, his hair was eschewed but his smile was bright. I sigh before I hide them from my camera roll, not wanting to see them every time I looked at my photo reel.

"Rilla?" I hear as I was about to feed Owen another spoonful of food.

"Fred!" I say loudly. "What are you doing here?" I ask him.

"Well, class is done for the day, though I feel like I should be asking you that?" He says look at the time on his phone.

"Someone had a doctor's appointment at 11:30 and I did some schooling over the summer. Managed to finish a credit early, plus the spares that I had saved from last year," I explain.

"Of course," he says. "How's your friend?" He asks awkwardly standing. "Do you think we can talk for a moment?"

I look back to Owen, and then to him. "If you don't mind it being lunchtime?"

"I would ask if that was her, but that feels rather redundant," Fred tells me sitting down. Has it been almost two years since we dated?

"Yes this is Elowen," I nod my head shyly. "Say hello," I whisper near her ear. She looks at me and then at him. "Can you wave?" I show to demonstrate for her. She just stares and goes for the cheerios I had laid out for her. "Miranda is all right, still a bit shook but she's doing all right I think?" I finally answer him. "So what would you like to talk about?"

"I mostly want to apologize," Fred says. "For how I treated you all those years ago."

I look at him unsure of what to say to such of thing.

"If this is just because of what's in the media," I say almost defensively not sure if I want to do this with him. Rehash the past.

"Please," Fred says shaking his head. "I want to apologize for not thinking about your feelings or you in general. I was caught up in being popular I never thought about you. I would hear all these things and I didn't think. I didn't think about how you might feel or care about the pressure I might have put on you."

"What brought this on?" I ask him.

"I had someone make think about a few things and teach me a few things about women in general," Fred tells me with a small grimace like some girl put him in his place. "It made me realize how badly I treated you."

I raise an eyebrow and focus on Owen.

"I was an idiot, a fool not realizing that just because a magazine says something doesn't mean I should do it. Or what matters the most is to clear it with the other person to see if they would into that sort of thing?" Fred says awkwardly.

"So you're apologizing for having your hand down my pants when I was sleeping?" I ask him to point blankly.

"For everything, but yes that is the big one," Fred nods his head looking remorseful. "I was an idiot, I read somewhere that girls like such things. Not realizing at that point it's probably been established between the two people that it would be all right for a partner to do such things?"

"Thank you, I guess," I say quietly unsure of what else to say.

Fred nods his head and I give Owen a piece of my banana.

"She cute looks like you except for the obvious darker hair," he said breaking the silence.

"That's from her father, but she looks like him more than me," I correct him.

"I guess I'll take your word for it then since I don't really know what he looks like," Fred says not sure what else to say now. "She's healthy-looking? I would say chunky but I know how you are with certain words."

I soften slightly sighing. "Babies are supposed to be chunky, she is my chunky little monkey. It's the names that come along with things that I am opposed to. Having a nickname that is directed about your body isn't great and I already went off on my brother for trying to repeat the one he called me half of my life." Feeding her the last of what was supposed to be my afternoon banana which she ate happily.

"Did you just feed her your lunch?" Fred asks and I look up at him. Looking down at my coffee that was barely touched and my banana peel, that I had brought for myself.

"I ate before her appointment," I tell him which was technically breakfast. "I'll be fine with my coffee." I watch him dig through the pocket of his coat before tossing me a granola bar. A protein bar actually.

"I have them before practice sometimes for a pick me up," he explains to me.

"I'm okay, really I'm not that hungry," I tell him trying to refuse it."

"You were hungry if you started to eat it yourself. But I also know you skipped a lot of meals back then." Fred tells me. "Look I know I was a prick but I do remember you often pushing food around your plate trying to fool my mother into thinking you ate dinner at my house." He says shaking his head. "God I was more a fool than I thought I was," as if he unlocking things in his mind. "I saw what you did to yourself and I was too self-absorbed to even care."

"You were sixteen," I remind him quietly. "I was good fairly good at hiding things, and I was already messed up before you even met me."

"You're doing better though?" He asks hopefully.

I'm unsure if I even considered myself better than before some days. "I have good and bad days but I have a good level of support around me," I tell him honestly.

"I'm glad then," he tells me. "I should get going though, thank you for letting me talk to you." He says. "I hope everything works out for you."

"Thank you," I say with a small smile. I watch him leave my table waving goodbye to which Owen mimics happily. She got the goodbye wave down pact that is for sure. I focus back on my daughter and school work until the waitress comes up with a blueberry scone they made in-house.

"I didn't—," I tell her.

"I know, but the guy you were talking with bought you one and told me to wait five minutes to bring it for you." The girl tells me.

"Thank you," I say quietly.

I clean up the table from Owen's mess and pack up my things. I buckle her in the car seat once more and get into the car. I drive down the streets, she doesn't know that I am coming but I know she is home.

"What are you doing here!" Aunt Marilla exclaims when she opens the door to her suite.

"I was in the city, didn't feel like going home just yet," I tell her. "I thought we could walk around or see if any of you friends are around? You can show off Owen to them?"

"I think most of them are in the common room, it's embroidery and tea this afternoon. I was just grabbing my things so you caught me at a good time. But we can stay here and chat?"

"It's fine, I don't want you to miss your friends," I say shaking my head. I tell her as I hoist my child up further on my hip. Her hair brushed into two tiny pigtails.

"It's not often you come over just for a visit," Marilla reminds me.

"I never had a car to get here by myself before," I remind her back.

"Are you hungry? I can make something up for you? Though there will be tea and cookies in the common room."

"I'm all right, right now," I tell her shaking my head and we head down to the common room.

"My Anne-girl's daughter came for a visit with her little one," Marilla announces as she enters the common room.

Soon I have a dozen grandmothers surrounding me. Commenting that she can't be this big yet? Wasn't she born just a few months ago?

Nine months ago? Truly?

"You must be excited about school to finish with this year?" One of them asks me.

"I guess so?" I tell her. "I only have two classes this semester, just in the morning so I have the afternoon free."

"I hear you're picking up more shifts at work?" Marilla speaks up.

"Yeah, just in the dance shop though it helps a lot with money," I say quietly as I sit with Owen in my arms.

With my classes being shorter this semester. I got them to allow me to work one more shift since I would have more time, it was just a few hours here and there on Wednesday when Ken had Owen. Mostly since daycare was cut in half since she wasn't there as much which made me feel a bit better.

"Is she on solids yet?" Another one asked.

"Oh yes, eats plenty of solids these days. The doctor wants up to test out soy and peanut butter in the next couple of weeks," I tell them. "She's pretty much a textbook baby for most things."

"She's a good sleeper?" Another one asks me.

"Sometimes?" I say unsure of what qualifies as a good sleeper. She had good weeks, bad weeks. Depending on the weather, the moon was, teething it seemed.

"You're expecting another grandbaby aren't you Marilla?" Someone asks Aunt Marilla.

"So it seems," She said with a knowing smile. "It's been a long time coming for Joy and Matthew, though what a time when the twins decide to live with them more often. I believe they are looking for a house."

As the conversations turned, I slide down to the floor in the middle as she played with the box of the toys that appeared. Also carefully held her hands as she pulled herself up. Standing on her little wobbly legs, wiggling her butt, and raising her legs as if she was marching in place.

"She's going to be walking soon," Rachel Lynde comments. "All my children were fast walkers, I can see her walking before her birthday."

"I guess we'll see," I say simply. I follow her on my knees as she gravitates towards the coffee table. She lets go of my hands before grabbing the table, she looks at me with her big eyes. I grab my phone switching on the camera. Snapping a photo before turning on the video function to record her. Her sideways steps were wobbly and uncoordinated which was to be expected but she looks back at me laughing as she wiggles and let go of the table. Falling onto her bottom, she lets out a wail. I gather her up.

"Hey it's all, you just had a little tumble," I whisper in her ear as she cries, I look to Aunt Marilla who packs up her things. We walk back to her suit and I settle in her old rocking chair.

"I know it's past your nap time," I say softly. "Let's get you a little snack and then you can sleep on the way to meet up with daddy?"

"I proud of you Rilla," Aunt Marilla says from her spot on the couch.

"You're proud of your second-generation teenage mother with bad mental health?" I say rather a touch sarcastically.

"I'm proud of you for not giving up or in during all of this," She tells me honestly.

"I don't have much of a choice though?" I say with a sigh. "Why let him win?" I tell her but not sure if I believe it.

"It will all work out," She tells me, and I want to be hopeful, but the more I think about it, the more I overthink it. He'll get off easy because it's here say at this point, I can't prove that he touched me and everything thinks I'm a basket case of issues. I don't say this to anyone, I mostly hug Aunt Marilla goodnight and head towards the meeting place Ken and I had chosen, so he can take Owen while I go to counselling. It's a quick exchange as I'm running late.

I'm breathless as I check-in, and Beth is already waiting for me. I apologize, despite still being on time.

"It's fine Rilla, just sit, how was your day week?" She asks me.

"My ex-boyfriend apologized to me earlier today?" I tell Beth after a moment of silence.

"That seems rather unexpected for you?" She looks up from her notebook.

"Yep," I say popping my P. "I almost believe he meant it as well."

"Why only almost?"

"Because we both know I barely trust anyone these days?" I tell her resting my chin on my knees. "He seemed remorseful though? He kept calling himself a fool, idiot, a prick for who he treated me and not trying to help me when he saw what I was doing to myself."

"How did you respond to him?"

"I just said thank you?" I tell her. "It was just all so surreal I guess? I never expected such a thing, let alone from him. Even when we dated, it wasn't about conversation not really, it was always about making out and sex when I finally let him have it."

"Are you saying you felt pressured into having sex with him?" Beth as me, trying to mask her concern. I merely shrug my shoulder.

"It felt like the thing to do?" I say sighing. "He would get annoyed when It stopped him, eventually I just got tired of him getting annoyed that I wouldn't, so I did it?"

"You consented to it though?" Beth asks carefully.

"He never raped me, he would get annoyed and huffy when I told him, no, but he always stopped when I told him too," I tell her. "I just, I don't know? I guess I don't know if I believe him or not mostly? Then again I often feel like I'm going to wake up and my friends will have decided that they don't like me anymore because of everything. Rather than being ride and die, I'll just be kicked out of the car. The person I thought I could trust the most, I can't trust anymore, even though I trust him with Elowen's life," I say sighing. "Just thinking about this all is just inducing a headache."

"Do you think this often?" Beth leans into it.

I shrug. "Maybe more lately than before? Then little things happen that make me reconsider everything. Owen is growing so fast, she toddling around furniture, I swear she looked at me the today and had this look on her face. This look like she knew who I was to her, that I wasn't just some random person keeping her alive. That I was her mom."

"I am sure she recognized how you were to her long before you realized that she did," Beth tells me with a small smile. "How have you been with everything else? You're dancing twice a week? Are you eating enough to not go into a deficit of calories?" Beth asks as she glances at the clock. We only have a few minutes left now.

"Mom makes a meal plan for me for the week, it helps me know the expectations of what I need to eat. They don't force me to eat when I'm not hungry, but if I skip a meal they tend to make the next meal higher in calories," I explain to her our system. It works to a degree, I know I have dinner ready and made for me in the fridge when I go home tonight and they aren't home.

"Have you had any more reoccurrences to your self-harm? " She asks the big question of the session these days. Because if I don't mention a thing at the beginning of the session, or admit to too it, she tends to cover it near the end. "I heard that they set another court date?" She knows that it will wreak havoc on my mental state, because why wouldn't it?

I merely shrug my one shoulder, I really don't want to talk about that today that is for sure.

"Rilla?" she asks at my silence and I sigh. "It's understandable if you did, it's not something that can be easily overcome. You stopped last time because you were pregnant, this time you don't have that. This time it makes it harder to tell yourself why you shouldn't. This is why we are working on finding a way that you can manage without having to resort to such measures."

"I know, and I haven't, not this time anyway," I tell her sighing. Mostly since there is very little around that I can use to hurt myself because Dad went through everything in the house.

Beth nods her head. "Very well, if you need anything don't be afraid to reach out."

The drive home is lonely without Owen in the back of the car. When I finally get home, the house is deserted, Dad is at work, Mom is at her book club and Shirley and Wynnie are either at class or working. I toss my keys on my desk looking at the phone for the time. I had a little over an hour before Ken would drop off Owen. So I changed into a leotard and a pair of soft shoes. I looked in the mirror for a good moment. Trying not to tear into me as I usually would have done before.

I wasn't perfect, and I tried to tell myself that was okay these days. I tried not to focus on the scars on my legs, the old and healing ones. I shake my head and go downstairs through the side door to the attached garage. It was cold, but it was empty and bigger than the spare room. Spring recital had been on my mind since I had been reminded of it and I knew just what I wanted to do now. I was going to tell a story, my own story through the one thing I knew I was good at which was dance.

So I dance, the lyrics filtering through my mind as I move in time with the music of the cold garage wanting the space to move around.

My old cd player, the song I chose tells a story.

This is a story that I have never told

I gotta get this off my chest to let it go

I need to take back the light inside you stole

You're a criminal

And you steal like you're a pro

So Fred gets a touch of redemption, do we believe him or not?

I think there is only a handful, between 6-8 chapters left to this story. Hope everyone had a good week!

The song at the end is Warrior by Demi Lovato.

Tina