My Love: Mr Sergeant

Doing this Alone



The mornings now had a rhythm, Alarm at 5:45 am, 5 more minutes for Karis, and unending arguments between I and Karis about stripes and polka, the two of us going back and forth over her outfit choices before we'd even had breakfast.



As much as I was getting some things right after a struggling 3 months, there were still evenings that reminded me just how much I hadn't figured out yet.



I still find it difficult sometimes. One of such was tonight.



Karis had been fussy since pickup, according to Sara, she was overtired, she skipped her nap today and couldn't settle. 



By the time we got home she had lost all ability to reason, behaving like the kind of 4-year-old tiredness that resulted in tears over anything, her small face crumpling before I'd even finished setting her plate down.



"I don't want pasta," she pushed the bowl away despite pasta being her favorite food 2 nights prior, crossing her arms and turning her face from the table.



"But..." I started, reaching for the bowl to slide it back toward her.



"I don't want it dad," she said, her voice already cracking up with tears ready to flow, her chin trembling as she fought to hold them back.



"Baby, what do you want?" I say more softly, crouching beside her chair.



"I want mommy."



The words came as quietly and unexpectedly as they did each time she asked, like an arrow shot right into my chest, stealing the breath out of me for a second before I could steady myself.



"I know baby," I had to maintain a steady tone of voice, reaching out to smooth a hand over her hair.



"You miss her, I know alright."



"Where is mommy?" she inquired, her eyes searching for mine like I might have an answer that would finally satisfy her.



"Why is she not coming to get me?"



I have had a dozen different answers to this question over the course of 3 months, and none of them ever felt like enough.



I sighed and knelt down so we were at eye level just as I’d seen Sara do that morning, resting my hands lightly on Karis's small shoulders.



"It's got nothing to do with you, baby."



"Did I make her leave?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.



"Not at all," I assured her, holding her gaze so she'd know I meant it.



She looked at me like children do when they are considering believing you or not, studying my face carefully for any sign I might be lying to spare her feelings.



She eventually nodded, wiping the back of her hands on the trail of tears on her face, and I reached over to wipe the last of it away with my thumb.



"Can I get cereal instead?"



I nodded.



"Yes, baby," relieved to see the tension easing out of her shoulders as I got up to fetch the box from the cupboard.



It was not too long Karis slept off, curled up on the couch with her half-finished bowl of cereal still on the coffee table, when I received a message from an unsaved number, my phone buzzing softly against the wood.



"Hi, it's Sara."



I choked on the pasta I was eating, coughing hard enough that I had to set the fork down and reach for a glass of water, my eyes still fixed on the screen in disbelief.



I set the phone face down on the table for a moment, as if that could undo what I'd just read, my heart thudding a little faster than it should have for three simple words. 



Sara.



It's Sara.



I hadn't given her my number, not directly, and I found myself wondering how she'd gotten it, whether it had been through the day-care's contact sheet or something else entirely, though it didn't really matter in the end.



I glanced over at Karis, still fast asleep on the couch, her small chest rising and falling steadily, undisturbed by the quiet chaos happening a few feet away in my head.



I picked the phone back up, thumb hovering over the message the same way it had hovered days ago when I'd typed out a reply to Peter, except this time my palms felt slightly damp.



I read the message again, just to be sure I hadn't imagined it.



Two words, nothing more, and yet they sat there glowing on the screen like they meant something bigger than a simple introduction.



I thought about what to type back, deleting and retyping a greeting three times before settling on something simple, something that wouldn't give away how unreasonably pleased I was that she'd reached out at all. 



I set the phone down again, letting myself sit with the moment a little longer before responding, glancing once more toward Karis to make sure she was still sleeping soundly.



I smiled.

For the first time in a while, the quiet of the apartment didn't feel quite so heavy after all.