Changing Tunes (29 page)

I decided I was done crying. I had to move on, but I couldn’t do that, not quite yet. I can’t physically move on with certain parts of my life until I dealt with them, and I certainly never thought I’d be doing something like this. I’m sitting at my desk in my room chewing on my lip with Mac hanging over my shoulder.

“I can do it if you want me to.” she says timidly. She knows how hard this is for me, but somehow even typing it in and pushing the damn button seems like something I should do.

“I’m going to do it.” I continue biting my lip.

“You know if you keep that up, you won’t have any lips left. You’ll have eaten them all.”

“Ew, gross, Mac.” It does the trick though, and I pop my lip back out.

“Okay, I can do this.” I take a deep breath and type in Jessica Davis.

I nervously wait for Google to do its thing. A zillion matches for Jessica Davis come up. “Shit, there’s a lot.”

“Put in her name and associate her with your dad’s.”

Why didn’t I think of that?

“Let’s see what comes out then?” Instantly, one obvious match is displayed. I hover the cursor over the link, willing my hand to click on it. I close my eyes and click it.

Mac leans in closer and we read it together. The ugly divorce comes up, as well as the fact my father would have full custody of me. As I scroll down I see another link to more information about a Jessica Davis.

I know this is the link that will take me to my mom. All I have to do is click on it. I turn sideways and look at Mac. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“I guess it’s a damn good thing I know you can. Ash, I’ve been telling you from the beginning, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ve got this. You need to know, and this is something I think will help see yourself differently and allow you to heal.”

“Why do you always have to be so smart?” I smirk out.

“Push it, Ash, know once and for all. Plus, you’ve got me here right beside you.”

I turn back and click on it; the results display an address I quickly type into my phone, noticing she’s only an hour away. Not too far for a quick trip.

I snatch my purse up and turn to Mac, “It’s now, or never. While I am feeling courageous, let’s do it.”

Mac trails behind me and out the door we go. I’m quiet on the walk to her car and begin fidgeting. We climb in, and Mac puts some music on while pulling out of the parking space and asks, “Have you thought about what you’re going to say?”

I ponder it for a moment before responding, “I guess, I want to know why she stayed away. I’m not naïve; I know the Warden’s deep pockets played a part in it. I don’t doubt he pushed her out of the picture and it hurts I went so long thinking she’d abandoned me. I’d like to know why, when I turned eighteen, she didn’t seek me out.” I pause before continuing, “I feel cheated. I feel messed up on the inside, unable to move on based on my past.”

She keeps me talking the entire time, and before I know it, the car begins to slow and Mac turns to me. “I didn’t pull up to the house yet. We are down the street from it.”

I take stock of my surroundings; literally see the white picket fence kind of houses—cute cottage-like homes, with cute well-manicured front yards.

My heart begins beating fast. “Okay, which one is it?” I ask looking around. “Duh, it’s in my phone.”

“It’s okay, I remember, it’s that one, 202,” she says pointing. It’s cute and I can imagine her living there. But even more remarkable is the rows and rows of sunflowers. “This is it,” I whisper in awe.

“Do you want me to pull up?” Mac quietly asks looking at me.

Unable to speak, I just nod.

She drives up and pulls into the driveway and I begin to tremble from the nerves.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

I glance across at Mac, “Yeah, thanks for the offer, but as hard as this is, it’s something I have to do alone.”

“I’m here when you need me,” she smiles encouragingly.

I open the door and slide out, shutting the door behind me and slowly make my way to the front door. To be honest, my feet move by themselves. I truly don’t remember travelling the distance to the front door. I don’t even remember lifting my finger up to press the doorbell. I feel like I’m having an out of body experience.

But then the door opens, and an older version of me is standing there, looking just as shell shocked as I feel. I’m not sure how, but words tumble out of my mouth.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her hand flies to her mouth, muffling a cry, as tears begin to fall. The next thing that happens floors me.

“Can I hug you, please?”

I can only nod. She tentatively walks to me and wraps her arms around me, while we cry together. So many years have passed, and yet, she still looks and smells like my mom. She pulls back and leads me inside.

What I thought might have been the end of the beginning is now the beginning of the end.

Two hours later, Mac and I are on our way back home. I’m tear streaked, but beginning to feel a burst of hope. Hope for what lies before me, and for what could be. Hope for a future with my mom.

I turn to Mac, “Thank you so much for waiting for me.”

“I told you I would be here for you, and I meant it.”

“My mom explained some things to me, some I knew and some I didn’t. I always knew my father was controlling, I guess I just never realized how much. He did so much,” I say shaking my head in disgust. “When she said she wanted out and was taking me with her, he flipped a lid. He did everything to keep her away from me. He had money and she didn’t. She didn’t have anyone to help her.”

I look at the window, watching the dark scenery go by. “She assumed he’d completely turned me against her, after all of these years of being stuck with him. I told her he didn’t talk about her at all; period.”

“Where do you stand now? I know you can’t escape the past, but where do you go from here?” Mac asks.

“For now, we start back at the beginning and try to build a mother-daughter relationship; we go slow.”

For so long, I thought I just wasn’t wanted or worth being loved. Turns out I couldn’t have been further from the truth. She never stopped.

I need to think. Everything I thought has changed, and I’ve been thrown for a loop. I need to reevaluate me, and try to learn to not be so hard on myself.

Two weeks since I’ve held her, kissed her, or made love to her. I see her in class, but we don’t speak. We aren’t ugly, we just avoid. Every day, her face matches mine. There’s a part of me that’s been ripped out, and I don’t know how to get it back.

The first weekend I went home, sat down with my parents and told them what happened. As much as I love her, I can’t expect her to be okay with my life and put that responsibility on her; it’s not fair. My dad patted me on the shoulder, not knowing exactly what to say and had left the room. My mom stayed with me and listened. With my mom there’s no pretending. I was an emotional wreck, and my heart was breaking. She could tell the minute I’d walked in the house. Lara, having heard the door open had run into the room with a huge smile on her face and her arms opened wide begging to be picked up and hugged. I’d missed my Lara, and couldn’t wait to see her. Hearing her call me daddy is always the topping on the cake.

I’d spent the rest of the weekend doing what dad’s do with their little girls. My Lara, she’s the best of both worlds: she’s a girly girl, but also loves the outdoors. I play dolls and have tea parties, but we also ride horses together and play ball. There’s nothing I love more than spending time with her. While playing tea party, I remember thinking how shocked Ashley would be to see me sitting at a little table, drinking pretend tea. I may have even let her dress me up just a bit.

My thoughts always gravitate back to Ashley. I’ve had the chance to date others, but no one has ever come close to grabbing me the way she did. I’ve even questioned what it was about her from the beginning that set her apart from anyone else. I always go back to the library. From the moment I saw her, sitting on that library floor with her eyes closed, tears streaming down her face, she had me. There was just something different, and vulnerable about her. Yes, she’s beautiful, but there is just so much more to her, something hidden. She is the most real person I’d ever met. How could I not fall head over heels in love with her?

I knew it would never be easy, and I really didn’t expect her to become an instant mom to my daughter. I just needed to make sure it was real and lasting. I know it could have been awesome, but I also respect her decision enough to know she still had her own things to work out.

As I finish my drive back to school I begin to question what happens when this semester is over, which is soon. Will I see her again? In passing, or in a class? I must be deranged, but I’d rather see her in class and have my heart trampled on, over and over, than not see her at all. Talk about a glutton for punishment.

I need to just let her go, but how do I do it? How do I let the most perfect person for me walk out of my life for good? And just like that, I know my answer; you don’t. My mind made up, I head over to make my one last plea.