I probably couldn't tell you what I made for dinner last Tuesday night but I know almost every detail from January 14th, 1993. It was a Thursday. I went to class in the morning, worked an afternoon shift at the diner, and got home around 6pm. I walked in the door and Ally, looking especially frazzled, handed me a wailing, snotty-nosed Isabella. Teething was taking its toll- on all of us.
"Here, take this," she barked. "She's been fed, and I changed her shitty ass not that long ago. I need a break."
I had to raise my voice to be heard above the screeching. "Uh, okay. Are you going to be long? I have a paper due tomorrow. Shhh, Isabella, it's okay, love, shhh." I cradled the baby in the crook of my arm, swaying her back and forth in an attempt to soothe her.
Ally glared at me as she pulled on her winter boots. "I'll be a few hours, yeah."
I frowned. "If you can try not to make it too late—"
Outside, an obnoxious car horn interrupted me.
"Cindy's here. Gotta go."
The door slammed before I could reiterate the importance of the paper I had to finish. I carted Isabella upstairs to ask my parents if they could look after her for a few hours. Unfortunately, they were heading out to a hospital charity event and didn't expect to get home until late. Great.
Isabella was extra cranky and none of my usual tricks worked to soothe her. She hated the bouncy seat, the swing, and the football hold. A bath made her holler even louder. I gave her Tylenol and eventually she passed out in my arms, but as soon as I tried putting her down she woke up screaming.
I tried to write one-handed to no avail. I could barely think above all the noise. I paced the house with her instead, singing a lullaby while I tried to stay calm and not burst into tears myself. Finally, at one am, the baby crashed and I successfully transferred her to the crib. I crept back to the living room, avoiding every creaky floorboard, and prepared myself for an allnighter.
Ally finally sauntered home at two. She swayed on her feet as she sloppily removed her coat and boots. So help me if she woke up the baby!
"Thanks for coming home early so I could my paper done." I tried to contain the malice in my voice and keep it low enough to not wake the baby.
Ally giggled, confirmation she'd been drinking. Again.
"God, Edward, sometimes you act like you're a hundred and seven years old. This is early. The rest of my friends won't be getting home until three, maybe four. FYI: they made fun of me for leaving so early." She slurred her words which only pissed me off more.
"Yeah, well, they don't have a baby to take care of. I barely got any of my essay done. Thanks a lot."
"Relax. Sheesh, you're so worked up."
I pushed my books away. "Of course I am! I have a paper due in six hours which I've barely started because I was pacing the floors with a baby who cried half the night."
Ally rolled her eyes, looking rather disinterested. It annoyed the fuck out of me.
"You should've stuck her in her crib and let her cry. She'd shut up eventually."
"Really? Really!" I stood up and started piling my books up, slamming them together. "Isabella's a baby. She just wanted to be held, you know? Feel like someone cares."
"I guess I don't care that much." Ally shrugged.
My mouth gaped. How could she not care? Isabella was a part of her! I gawked, incredulous at her statement. All I could do was shake my head.
"I can't believe you said that. You just don't get it."
Ally threw her hands up. "You're right! I don't get it! I give up."
I assumed she meant she couldn't continue arguing with me anymore. Fine by me, I was fucking tired of it as well.
"Me, too. I'm going upstairs to finish this paper." Ally sickened me; I couldn't stand to be around her anymore. She stood firmly in my way.
"No, Edward, I can't do this anymore." Her index finger wagged between us.
"Fine. Let's break up. Whatever. You move out or I will. Doesn't matter. We'll work out visitation for Isabella tomorrow. I've got work to do. Excuse me." I tried to move past her but Ally didn't budge.
"You don't get it. I'm waving a white flag here. I surrender; I'm done. I'm leaving."
My jaw clenched as I glared at her.
"If you think you can walk out of here with my daughter you can fucking forget that!" I spat my words into her face. She sure as hell wasn't taking Isabella with her! No fucking way! I'd fight for my baby girl.
Ally shook her head. "I'm leaving. Just me."
It took a minute for her words to sink in. When my brain caught up to what she was saying, my chest physically hurt. She wasn't leaving me ... she was leaving me and Isabella. The realization gutted me. Before my knees buckled I found a chair, gripping the armrests to anchor me - physically and mentally. Her words cut through me, leaving me breathless. I was too stunned to even try and talk her out of it.
Ally bustled around me, tossing items into duffel bags. She'd randomly ask if I wanted to keep this CD or that book. I couldn't answer her because didn't care about such trivial things. How could she give a fuck about any of that shit but not think twice about leaving Isabella?
In half an hour she'd packed up her shit. Her life with our daughter. Thirty. Fucking. Minutes. She repulsed me.
"Well, I guess that's it." She paused in the doorway, bags in hand. "Cindy's coming back to pick me up. I'll wait outside." She was so matter-of-fact, I wanted to smack her. Not to knock sense into her but to see if she was capable of feeling anything.
"Aren't you even going to say goodbye to your daughter?" I asked incredulously. Ally looked at me blankly as though she'd already forgotten who Isabella was.
"Oh, right," she replied with a shake of her head.
She went into the bedroom alone to say her farewell while I hovered outside the door. A part of me wanted Ally to dissolve into tears and apologize for being a shitty mom, so one day I could tell Isabella her mother had regrets about abandoning us. Our family.
That wasn't the case.
"Bye, Iz. Be good."
Not 'I love you.'
Not 'I'm sorry.'
Just 'Bye, Iz. Be good.'
What the fuck? I don't even know if she kissed her goodbye and it doesn't matter. A kiss wasn't a promise of anything.
Ally walked out of the bedroom, bumping right into me. I grabbed her arms, my fingers digging into her flesh hard enough that I knew it would bruise under my touch.
"If you walk out the door, don't ever expect to come back." I growled my warning. Ally shook her arms free of my grasp and brushed past me.
"Goodbye, Edward."
She hitched her bags over her shoulder and calmly walked out the door. Just like that. She walked out of our lives, abandoning me and our little girl.
I hurled my textbooks after her. The first one slammed against the closed door and I was pissed I'd missed her, that fucking bitch. The second and third hit to the left of the door frame, leaving a dent in the wall where the spine of the book smashed into it. My fist went through the plaster next and I felt no pain, only searing hatred. Anger gripped my insides like a vice, squeezing my chest until I had to scream so I could breathe. I was consumed with so much hatred I was delirious with it.
"Fuck you, Ally! Fuck! You!"
I cursed her name until my throat was raw and my lungs burned with the toxins of a hundred cigarettes.
Dad raced down the basement steps, rubbing sleep and confusion from his eyes.
"Edward! What's going on?"
"Ally left! That fucking bitch left." I pointed at the closed door.
Isabella woke up, screaming as loud as I was.
"Fuuuuck!" I ripped at my hair in frustration knowing she needed me but I was so furious I couldn't trust myself to be near her.
"I'll get her. Go outside, calm yourself down." I was torn but Dad reassured me in a quiet voice, his hand on my shoulder. "Just go."
I stomped around the backyard, reeling and cursing in anger. I chucked rocks at the apple tree - the one I used to climb as a kid. I kicked the trunk as hard as I could, and spat on the fucking ground. My chest heaved. My jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other so hard I could feel the pain reverberating in my skull.
God! I hated Ally! Give up on our relationship — fine, there wasn't much of one anyway. But to give up on Isabella? To abandon her child, her own flesh and blood? Un-fucking-forgivable. Self-centered little cunt. She was every bit the fuck-up her parents thought she was.
It took twenty minutes before I could go back inside, where Dad was still trying to calm Isabella. Her face was scarlet, fists clenched into tight balls as she screamed at the top of her lungs. I'd never seen her so pissed off. The very second she caught sight of me, she reached out her pudgy arms, sobbing even harder. I scooped my angel into my arms, holding her against my chest.
"Hush, baby girl. Sssshhhh. Daddy's here. C'mere, sweetheart." Swaying back and forth I continued to murmur in a low, melodic tone. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay." I was a fucking liar. It wasn't ever going to be okay.
"Do you need me to stay?" Dad asked. I shook my head, knowing it was 2:45 in the morning and he was scheduled to work at 7:00. Dad frowned and clasped my shoulder before he left. He probably thought we'd had a spat and that Ally would only be gone for a night or two. But I saw the look on her face- I knew this wasn't a temporary thing. The bitch bailed on us.
Eventually Isabella's wailing was replaced with pathetic hiccups. She tucked her head under my chin, soft tufts of hair tickling my neck. Her breathing slowed and her body melted against mine. I nestled her even closer, if possible, and continued to sway. Isabella popped her thumb into her mouth and faded away to sleep.
I couldn't stand to be alone, so I sank into the recliner with her. I'd bought the ratty old thing for $25.00 at a garage sale. It was an eyesore - ugly brown tweed with wood accents - but there was a certain comfort to it. The cushions were worn but, like an old, faded pair of Levis, it was the perfect fit. As Isabella's thumb was soothing to her, the chair was to me, especially then.
On my chest Isabella sighed contently when I covered her with a fuzzy pink and brown polka dot blanket, snuggling into its warmth. Her body weight felt like the equivalent of the weight of the world crushing my chest. Sleep eluded me, and the anger was replaced with an overall feeling of numbness. The air, heavy and thick, refused to enter my lungs and I was left suffocating. A dad at 18 was one thing, a single dad was another fucking dimension. I had no idea what the fuck I was going to do.
Thank you all for reading. Cappy: you make my words pretty. Thank you.