Pretend hearts, real love

Family day

The sun had not even kissed the sky yet when Charlotte faced the bathroom mirror, the anemic fluorescent light casting anemic shadows on her cheeks. Her flower blouse carefully folded over a hanger beside her mocked her with its dainty pink roses and jaunty buttons which now appeared so pathetically symbolic. Each one of them appeared to challenge her: Are you really doing this?

"You're not anxious," she told her reflection, firmly. "You're a professional adult woman. A medical director. You've taught at international conferences. You've handled emergencies with cool competence. You're not acting like someone's mother."

She paused. Blinked. Then let out a groan and ran her hand through her hair.

"Oh God, what am I doing?"

Her fingers wrapped around her mascara brush like it was a sword she could wield to gain some authority. A flick here. Swish there. A flutter of an eyelash or two. A blush to restore her hue. Soft and firm, lipstick. Color that stated, I should be in your school photos without warranting to be in your life.

The phrase at the door was well received.

"Ready, or must I return in twenty and pretend to be fashionably late?" Aiden's laughing but gentle voice came from beyond the door.

Charlotte snorted. "You wish you could pull it off."

She flung the door wide to find him slouching in a casual position against the corridor wall, wearing a crisp navy button-down shirt tucked into dark blue jeans. His hair was ever so slightly too well done to have been an accident no doubt a five-minute effort that had turned out to look utterly windblown.

He raised an eyebrow as he took her in. "You look like someone who's definitely going to be the real parents' meilleure."

"And you ironed that shirt for the first time in five years. Should I be impressed or alarmed?"

"Worried. This shirt is business attire. And today, we're business-talking like a perfect family."

Charlotte rolled her eyes and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. "Let's get it over with before I start thinking about the implications of being 'Mommy' for a day."

The kindergarten parking lot was already a riot of color and sound when they drove in. There were balloons tied to stakes, teachers shepherding children in with clipboards in hand, and a dozen minivans jockeying for the optimal parking places in an unofficial war.

Charlotte opened the door of the car and heard immediately her name well, not her name, but a thrilled squeal of delight that caused her heart to stutter.

"You came! Both of you!"

Emily tore down the sidewalk, her bright pink backpack bouncing behind her, her arms out. Charlotte didn't have time to drop down to a crouch before Emily flung herself into her arms.

Charlotte hugged her close, smoothing her hair. "Of course we did, darling. We wouldn't miss it for anything."

Emily pulled back with a grin that could light the sky. "I told Miss Harper I had a mommy now. She near cried."

Charlotte blinked. Aiden coughed.

"We'll sort that out later," Charlotte grumbled to herself.

Hand in hand, they walked into the school with Emily, bobbing between the two. The school building was adorned with bright streamers and posters with handprints, stick family figures, and glitter everywhere.

Paper banners hanging from the ceiling proclaiming Happy Family Day! in multiple languages. Folding tables supporting craft stations. The scent of finger paint, peanut-free snacks, and fruit punch floating in the air.

"So this is where the magic happens," Charlotte whispered.

Aiden moved closer. "It's also where glue becomes stuck in your hair and you discover raisins in Play-Doh."

"Raisins?"

"Long story. Still haven't recovered."

Emily led them to her table, which had her name written in capital letters and a smiling face drawing in the corner. A couple of her friends were already seated there. One of the brown-curl girls nodded at Charlotte.

"Is that your mom, Emily? She is quite beautiful."

Charlotte forced a smile. Emily grinned like a pleased tour guide. "Yup! And she's a doctor. Like my daddy!"

The mother leaned over. "Wow. Both doctors? You must be exhausted."

Charlotte didn't bat an eyelash. "Only emotionally."

Aiden choked on his juice box, hacking roughly. Emily giggled.

They spent the rest of the hour attaching googly eyes to popsicles and attempting to create family portraits with cut-out shapes and cotton balls. Barely, Charlotte managed to get glitter in her hair but did acquire a small splodge of glue on her sleeve.

At one point, Emily leaned over and, in a conspiratorial whisper, said, "You're good at this. I think you were meant to be my mommy."

Charlotte stood stock-still.

She didn’t know what to say, so she just smiled and brushed Emily’s cheek. "I think you’re pretty amazing, too."

Then came the dreaded “Family Skit” segment.

Each family was asked to act out something they enjoyed doing together. Baking, board games, bedtime stories whatever captured their bond. Emily, of course, had decided days ago they would pretend to bake cookies.

“I’ll be the taste tester,” she announced. “Daddy, you’re in charge of the bowl. And Charlotte you’re the boss baker.”

Charlotte and Aiden exchanged a look.

“Typical,” he said. “She’s delegating already.”

On the makeshift stage a cleared area with paper cutouts of kitchen counters and utensils Aiden stood holding a plastic mixing bowl while Charlotte mimed stirring.

"Remember the flour!" Emily yelled from the other side of them, arms crossed like an exasperated sous-chef.

"We don't have flour," Charlotte cried dramatically.

Aiden stared into the empty bowl with fake shock. "Then what are we blending?"

Charlotte paused, gave him a long, sad look. "Regret."

Laughter burst out in the room. Parents chuckled. Teachers smiled. Even the principal, silently sipping coffee in the back, laughed into his elbow.

Emily grinned so wide her cheeks dimpled. “My mommy’s funny!”

Aiden leaned over and whispered to Charlotte, “You’re dangerously good at this.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You mean lying?”

“I mean making it feel real.”

Charlotte didn’t reply.

Afterward, picnic blankets were spread out on the lawn. Charlotte, Aiden, and Emily found a shady spot under a sprawling oak tree. The air smelled faintly of grass, sunscreen, and the sugary tang of juice boxes.

Emily lay between them on the checkered blanket, still humming the jingle from their skit.

Charlotte jammed a grape into her mouth and rested her head against Aiden. "So. Did we pull it off?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes tracking Emily. "No one questioned us about pretending. Either we're convincing or everyone's too busy with their glitter distraction."

She giggled. "Do you do that a lot? Pretend to be someone you're not?"

He shrugged. "Only every time I fill out forms that request 'Mother's Information.' Most days I'm just.not screwing something up before bed."

Charlotte noticed his profile the entire way his jaw twitched a little, the way he never looked away from Emily, not even when he teased.

"You're doing an okay job, I think?"

He turned to her, surprised.

"You think so?"

"I know so. She's smart. She's kind. She's self-assured. Those don't just pop up."

He breathed slowly. "Some days, I wonder if love will be enough."

Charlotte glanced over at Emily, who was attempting to hold a cheese cube on the end of her nose.

"It's not," she replied in total sincerity. "But it's a good place to start."

He smiled, exhausted and grateful.

The drive home was quiet, Emily sleeping in her car seat, her tiny hand clutching the edge of her artwork.

Charlotte rode in the passenger seat, watching trees fly by.

"Forgot how loud quiet could be after a day like today," she breathed.

Aiden's eyes flicked to her. "Yeah. Like your body's still catching up."

She looked at him. "Thanks for asking me out. Even though it was awkward. Even though it's temporary."

"Thanks for saying yes," he said, his voice soft. "Even though it's temporary.".

Later, in the ice cream shop line a promise made and fulfilled Charlotte granted herself a smile. Emily was in the middle of them, eyes fixed on the unlimited options.

"I want chocolate with rainbow sprinkles and marshmallows and gummy bears," she declared.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "That's.a combination."

Aiden shook his head. "That's a sugar coma."

Charlotte chose pistachio topped with a drizzle of dark chocolate. Mint chip was Aiden's choice. When they sat down, Emily gazed up at her enormous concoction and sighed happily.

"Today was the best day ever."

Aiden tousled her hair playfully. "I think that merits ice cream."

Charlotte teased, "Is that in the pretend mommy agreement?"

He grinned. "Fine print. Subsection C: ice cream is mandatory."

She laughed. "Then I suppose I'm in. But I pick the toppings next time."

"No raisins," he cautioned.

"No promises."

Emily looked back and forth between them. "I love you both."

Time stood still.

Just a moment. A breath. A flutter.

Charlotte reached out, grasped Emily's hand, and said softly, "We love you too, sweetheart."

In that instant brief and fragile it didn't feel like a lie.

It felt like something true.

Something that could break her heart later.

And perhaps something worthwhile to risk.