Totally and Completely Fine(16)

“How does your stomach feel?” I asked.

I tried to remember what it had been like the first time I’d gotten my period, but I honestly couldn’t. Like losing my virginity, it had been unremarkable. Unmemorable. All these supposedly life-changing events—forgotten. Or maybe it was that society tended to put more value on the way a woman’s body changed versus anything else about them.

But if it was something that could be forgotten, then maybe Lena would forget all of this too.

Then again, I was pretty sure I hadn’t gotten my first period in the middle of a museum trip with my famous uncle during a visit to his film set.

“Do you have cramps?” I asked.

The look Lena gave me was of such disdain that it nearly gave me cramps.

“I’m. Fine,” she said.

“If you need anything…”

She turned her head—her entire body—away from me.

I could take a hint. She didn’t need anything from me.

“How is she?” Gabe asked when I came out of the room.

He looked so concerned.

I wanted to tell him that this was the unfortunate reality of being a person with a uterus—pain and blood and humiliation—every month now. That this was hardly the worst thing my daughter’s body—and the society witnessing it—would inflict upon her.

That life would just continue to get harder and harder.

“She’ll be fine,” I said, even as I shuddered internally. “Eventually. I give it twenty years or so.”

Gabe sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Stop it,” I said. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly,” he said. “I just fucking froze. I couldn’t even handle it by myself—I had to call you and have you fix the problem.”

“It’s honestly okay that you didn’t know what to do in this situation,” I said.

He looked at me with those big, sad actor eyes of his. Somewhere in the distance, Sarah McLachlan was singing.

“I’m starting to worry that I don’t know what to do in any situation,” he said. “That when it comes to a moment of crisis, I just…” He waved his hands. “I just can’t get it together.”

I knew this was about more than just today.

Then again, “I just can’t get it together” could have been the Parker family motto at this point.

“You can’t even trust me to take Lena for an afternoon. What kind of person can’t watch their niece for an afternoon?”

“These were unusual circumstances,” I said. “And you did exactly the right thing.”

He snorted. “Yeah, called an adult.”

“You’re an adult,” I said.

He looked at me. “I’m pathetic. Forty years old and what?”

“And what?” I rolled my eyes. “You’re a fucking movie star, Gabe.”

“Failed movie star.”

The pity party was getting to be a little too much. Besides, he wasn’t the biggest fuckup in the room. That was me.

“You’re doing great. You’re doing your best.”

He sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “But what if that isn’t good enough?”

I was pretty sure this had to do with his sobriety, but maybe something more.

“It’s good enough for me,” I said.

It wasn’t the answer Gabe was looking for, but he didn’t say any more and leaned his head back against the couch cushions.

“Did I totally ruin your day?” he asked. “What were you doing when I called?”

“Uh,” I said. “Nothing much. Don’t worry about it.”

My neck tingled.

I gave myself a little shake. Move on, Parker.

“Up until the…incident…how was the museum?” I asked.

“Good,” Gabe said. “I think. I don’t know. She wasn’t really speaking to me.”

“Join the club,” I said.

There had been a time when she couldn’t get enough of him. Whenever he’d visit, she’d demand a hug and then would hang there, refusing to let go. Gabe would play along, hands on his hips, pretending she wasn’t doing an impression of an oversize necktie while he asked everyone around him if they knew where Lena was. She’d giggle the whole time, squealing with joy when he finally “realized” she was there.

And when she’d been really little, she’d all but lived in my lap. Couldn’t get close enough. Head against my chest, fingers playing with my hair or my necklace or earrings. Just constantly touching, exploring.

I’d known back then that those times were precious and fleeting. It’s what they warned all moms. I just hadn’t realized that when she outgrew that need, she’d also move completely out of arm’s reach. That when she stopped wanting it—stopped needing it—that was the time when I would miss it the most.

“I hate it,” Gabe said.

“Yeah, me too,” I said.

Gabe glanced over toward the guest room door, which I’d closed behind me.

“Is she…will she…” He couldn’t seem to put it into words.

“I’ve been told this won’t last forever,” I said.