CHAPTER 23
Torschlusspanik
German
“the feeling you experience at a certain point in your life where you see an imaginary door closing on all your opportunities, and you wonder what could have been”
Mason helps me pack, and each decision on what should stay and what should go feels like pieces of my heart are being torn away. He promises he’ll water the plants, as if I’m going on vacation for a couple of weeks. We go around in circles over the question of whether we could sustain a long-distance relationship, deciding and undeciding that a clean break is best. I want him for always. Seeing each other a few times a year wouldn’t be a satisfying compromise. It would be torture.
Maisie is inconsolable. I try to soften the blow of leaving by explaining that her daddy wants to spend more time with her, but she drills down.
“Daddy can come and get me at my house,” she insists. My heart aches that she considers this place home. “And then he can bring me back tomorrow.”
“It doesn’t work that way, baby,” I say. “Remember when we moved to Ohio and we had to sleep in hotels because it was so far away from Florida? Daddy would have to do that too.”
“He could fly on a plane like when we went to see Oma.”
“Hey, you’ll be able to see Oma again,” I offer, hoping that will cheer Maisie up, but she shakes her head with a stubbornness that reminds me of Rosalie Schroeder. Although I want to be angry with Brian and his mother, I can’t fault them for wanting Maisie in their lives. I only wish we could have worked it out without having to get the courts involved.
“Oma and Daddy can go on the plane together,” Maisie says angrily. “I wanna stay here with Yōkai and Leo and Mason.”
“I know. Me too.”
“Let’s don’t go, Mama. Let’s don’t go.”
But I can’t make that promise. And when the boxes are packed and loaded into the car, it’s time for us to leave. Daniel, Avery, and Leo come to see us off.
Avery grabs me up in a tight hug. “Oh God, Rachel, I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“I feel the same way, but Brian’s family won’t be satisfied until Maisie is back in Florida.”
“Will you be able to come for a visit?”
“I’d love that,” I say, even though I know it’s unlikely. Living on the island with Mason spared me rent payments, utility bills, and gas for my car, so I started building up my bank account. Now I’m returning to Fort Lauderdale–sized security deposits and interstate commutes. “But I’m not sure when or how. I have to start all over there.”
“I’m going to miss you so much.”
“Me too. Give my love and goodbyes to the book club, and please don’t let Mason go full Havisham again.”
Avery snorts a wet laugh as she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “I promise we’ll take better care of him.”
Maisie and Leo are clutching each other, and I hug Avery once more, then Daniel. Both children wail as I put Maisie into the car. She waves to Leo until their golf cart is out of sight. When the Roses are gone, it’s just me and Mason. One last time.
He opens the driver’s door for me. “You’d better get going so you don’t miss the ferry.”
“I’m sorry I have to leave.”
“Listen,” Mason says, resting his palm lightly on my cheek. “If you pulled into my driveway again—even if I knew it meant having to live this day a second time—I’d still fall in love with you.”
“Me too.” I kiss him softly, then touch my forehead to his. “Every single time.”
* * *
The drive to Ohio in April was marked by nervous uncertainty and excitement, but the closer we get to Florida, the closer my anxiety comes to the surface.
The amount of time Maisie and I have spent apart is exceedingly small when compared to the amount of time we’ve been together. There have been moments when I’ve wanted a break from motherhood, but they have been rare. I don’t indulge in fun daydreams about what I’d do with a week or more away from Maisie. I don’t want to share her with Brian. I brought her into this world alone. I’ve raised her without his help or money. In the darkest, ugliest part of my heart, I don’t think he deserves her. But my dad walked away from me and Anna without looking back, and I could never be the one who deprives Maisie of her father.
Despite trying to stay upbeat for her, my mood sinks, and Maisie picks up on it. She’s irritable in the car. We stop way too frequently for potty breaks that turn into temper tantrums over not wanting to get back in her car seat. At night, in hotels in Virginia and northern Florida, she turns clingy. We don’t explore the cities for interesting restaurants or play in the pool. If I’m not happy to be back in Fort Lauderdale by the time we reach my mom’s condo, I’m sure as hell glad to get out of the car.
“Oma! Oma!” Maisie rushes into her grandma’s arms, happy to be smothered by someone who isn’t me. “Oma, I missed you.”
Mom hugs both of us at once. “How are you holding up?”
“I used to think Peter Rhys-Blackwell was the worst thing that ever happened to me,” I say. “But I’ve just quit the job of my dreams, left my home, and broken up with a man who loves me as much as I love him. I’m not holding up.”
She strokes my cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” I blink hard, but the tears come anyway. “Thank you.”
“Why don’t you go have a nap in my room?” Mom suggests. “Maisie and I have some catching up to do.”
My life feels like it’s been rewound, my mom taking care of Maisie while I sleep. But I don’t want to be awake. I want to stop worrying about what might happen when we go to mediation. I want to stop missing Mason. I send him a text message to let him know we made it to Florida, then kick off my flip-flops, climb into bed, and escape into sleep.
I don’t wake up feeling better, but my exhaustion is gone, and that helps. I come out of the bedroom to find Maisie standing on a step stool at the counter, stirring batter in a bowl.
“Mama!” She’s visibly brighter than she’s been for the past three days. “We’re making pfannkuchen. That means pancakes for dinner.”
“Help her for a second,” Mom says. “I’ll be right back.”
I’m plugging in the griddle when she returns with a file folder in her hand.
“You might get mad at me for this, but I’ve been keeping a record of Brian’s visitations with Maisie,” she says, handing me the folder. “Whenever he was late picking her up or forgot her car seat or brought her home early to do something else, I wrote it down. Just in case.”
Inside the folder are four years’ worth of dates and times.
“You thought I was avoiding Brian because I didn’t like him,” she says. “And … okay, maybe I don’t like him very much, but whenever I disappeared, this is what I was doing.”
I laugh a little. “Six months ago we probably would have had a fight about this, but these notes could be helpful. Thank you.”
“I took the day off work tomorrow. I’ll watch Maisie while you meet with the lawyer.”