Not Ready for Mom Jeans (48 page)
Read Not Ready for Mom Jeans Online
Authors: Maureen Lipinski
“Oh. The only movie I’ve seen in the past few years was
Twilight.
Isn’t Edward dreamy?” Natalie said, and sighed.
Not wanting my big moment to get overshadowed by vampire romance, Jake stepped forward and lifted his glass again. “Er. OK, anyway, cheers to Clare and her new venture!”
“Did you get fired or something?” Sam said, her eyes narrowing.
I sighed. “Nope. More like I fired myself.”
“Did you quit your job?” Marianne said, looking confused.
I shook my head. “Not yet. I’m still getting everything in place, but my goal is to quit within two to three months.”
“Oh. I was going to invite you to join my quilting circle next week.” Marianne looked disappointed while I made a mental note to get caller ID on my new office phone.
After a few more toasts and pats on the back, Sara started to crash from her sugar buzz, and soon everyone left. With Jake in the dining room, desperately trying to find a way to make Sara’s new talking caterpillar Leapfrog toy say dirty words, I started cleaning up.
Saying the ideas germinating in my head made them seem real—and much more scary. Up until now, it had just been a brief plan, one that I had yet to put into action.
But in the quiet places of my heart, I knew this was right. My dreams and goals flexed and found a new way to grow into the spaces of my life.
Wednesday, January 14
There’s a possibility I might die thanks to wayward gang members before I can even get my event business off the ground. I should probably start carrying weapons around, like old wine bottles. Because I’m such a good mother that I totally would not hesitate to break off the neck of a Pinot bottle and cut a bitch up to protect my child.
These ponderings are necessary since Jake and I wound up in the ghetto tonight.
OK, scratch that. Jake and I wound up in what I call the ghetto. He called it “a shortcut to the restaurant.”
Except there was no restaurant. There wasn’t much of anything. Just a few liquor stores, gun stores, ammo stores, a few more liquor stores, a bar, and a pawnshop. And a few cars set on fire.
Yet he insisted we were perfectly fine, it was a totally normal way to go, and Judy wouldn’t fail him.
Judy is what he’s named his new navigation system in his car. His parents bought it for him for Christmas. I was eternally grateful when he opened it, since I thought it meant no more screaming at each other about which way to get on the highway. But it does not mean that. It means driving through an area peppered with drug dealers and waving off hookers as they approach the car.
It also meant I twisted around to face Sara in the backseat in a desperate attempt to distract her from staring at the loitering teenagers on every block.
Yet Jake insisted Judy wouldn’t let him down and she’d guide us to our destination. After fifteen minutes, I told Judy to screw off and directed us back to the highway. She got really pissed and was like “PROCEED TO THE HIGHLIGHTED ROUTE. TURN AROUND. TURN AROUND WHEN POSSIBLE. YOU ARE GOING OFF INTO UNMAPPED TERRITORY. JAKE WILL NEVER LOVE YOU AS MUCH AS HE LOVES ME.”
Judy’s a bitch.
Sunday, January 18
“Your latte, Ms. Event Planner Lady,” Julie said as we sat down at Starbucks this afternoon.
“Whatever. It’s still in the planning stage; it won’t officially be launched until the spring. Besides, I haven’t even quit my job yet,” I said as I raised my cup to my lips.
“Yeah, well, you’ll probably get to plan your brother’s wedding, whenever he and that horrible bitch get engaged.” Julie smiled.
“Oh yeah, she’s terrible. Nice, sweet, pretty. Hate her!” I laughed as I raised my coffee. “He asked me to go ring shopping with him next week.”
“Well, regardless, I’m really proud of you. I feel like you’re going to be so much happier and finally feel a little more balanced.” Julie pulled a tube of ChapStick out of her pocket and carefully applied it.
“Definitely. I always thought that it had to be one or the other—working or staying home—but the breast cancer fundraiser really opened my eyes; it made me realize that I can mix the black and white of my life together and make an awesome shade of gray. Not to mention that I’m so excited to make something happen. For me. You know?” I slowly rotated the paper cup in front of me.
“For sure.” Julie nodded and took a sip of her drink. She leaned back. “OK, I have news. And you can’t freak out. Deal?” she said.
“Can’t promise. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth. But go ahead.” I set my drink down on the table and laid my palms flat down.
“I’m taking Trevor to meet my dad.”
“Whoa! Big step!” Freaking huge step, in fact. Julie’s beer-bellied, NASCAR-watching, profanity-spewing father is the ultimate relationship litmus test. But he’s also one of the most awesome people ever.
“No kidding!” Julie rolled her eyes.
“He’s going to do great.” I nodded my head and smiled at her. I have a great feeling about the two of them. Maybe my little Julie is finally growing up.
“Whatever, I’ll let you know. So, I saw the article about Elise,” she said, swiftly changing the subject.
“I know, isn’t it great?” I said.
“Totally. She’s so redeemed herself. Every news station is going to be fighting over her.”
“They already are.” I smiled.
“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: she rules.”
Monday, January 19
Jake stayed home from work today with Sara. He claimed he had a head cold, but I think he’s still just a little tired from going out with Bill-Until-Two-Months-Ago-I-Still-Lived-with-My-Parents on Saturday night.
I walked in the door and dropped my keys on the entryway table. I tiptoed through the foyer. Jake walked out of the kitchen and said, “Hey, I—”
I put a finger to my lips and whispered, “Where is she?”
He smiled and pointed to the family room.
I crept down the hallway. Sara was sitting on her play mat and playing with her Little People firehouse, sunlight streaming through the window and reflecting off her blond curls, forming a halo of light around her head.
“Sara,” I said to her in a low tone.
Her head snapped and she shrieked when she saw me. “Erghhh!” she gurgled.
“Mama’s home,” I said to her as I walked over and picked her up.
We sat down on the couch and I held her close to me.
“Whatcha do today? Whatcha do? Did you play? Did you sing songs?” I murmured in her ear.
She leaned back a little, looked at me in the eyes, and smiled. She put her hands on either side of my face and laughed. I grabbed one of her hands, held it, and kissed it.
Jake walked in and sat down next to us on the couch. He put his arm around me as I rocked Sara until she started to get sleepy in my arms.
“I love you,” I whispered to her.
She dreamily opened her eyes and looked up at me before letting herself lazily drift off. Jake and I stayed on the couch, watching her sleep. I held her in my lap as I rested my head on Jake’s shoulder and we silently watched the snow begin to fall outside.
I assumed that when I had a child, when I acquired the title of mom, I’d have so many things in place already—financial success, personal achievement, confidence, wisdom. But maybe Sara had to come first. Maybe, instead of each achievement being a ladder rung to the next and arriving in an all-for-one package deal, they had to be catalyzed by her.
And this feels like just the beginning; I can’t wait to see what happens next.
As the snow lightly pelted against the windowpane, Sara reached up, grabbed my hand, and held on tight.
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