Dear Tabitha (31 page)

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Authors: Trudy Stiles

BOOK: Dear Tabitha
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~

As promised, we pull up in front of the hotel in just under twenty minutes. Carlos opens the door for us and helps transfer our bags to the porter.

“Goodbye, sweet Sara. You’re certainly going to be missed over at the house,” Carlos says, bending down to give her a big hug.

“Bye, Carlos!” she says, hugging him tightly.

“All of her belongings will be shipped to Philadelphia tonight. Our pilot has already loaded the plane and everything should be there before you get home. We’ve arranged with your friend, Kirsten, to get access to your apartment and set up her room. I hope that’s okay with you. When the plane returns tomorrow, it will be refueled and ready to take you and Sara back to Philadelphia. We’ll ring you at the hotel when the plane is ready.”

Holy shit, how did they arrange all of this? Kirsten? How did they get in touch with her? A private jet? Who
exactly
is this family? How did Tony make that much money to afford the compound, jet, and all of the other extravagances?

I shake my head and just say, “Thanks. I’m also traveling with someone else. Will there be room on the plane for him as well?” I ask and I think that I should be more nervous about a bunch of strangers gaining access to my apartment, but they are setting up a new home for Sara. Kirsten will be there to make sure everything is okay. I hope.

“Of course, there’s plenty of room on the plane,” he answers

Sara pulls me inside the hotel. “Where’s the ice cream?” She laughs.

I approach the front desk and mention my room number to the clerk. He nods to the porter who rolls our bag cart onto an open elevator. “Room 264, follow me,” the porter says.

We reach our room and I slide my keycard into the lock and open the door to see a large sitting area with several rooms off to the sides.

“Wait, there must be a mistake. I’m not in a suite.” I turn around.

“Hey!” Alex’s voice comes from the room. “You’re not in the wrong place. We have a suite.” He smiles at Sara and me.

I am not sure that I’m ready to explain to Sara who Alex is. I want some one-on-one time with her so we can get to know each other a little better. Bringing Alex into any discussion may just wind up being confusing for her. Hell, his presence is even confusing for me.

“Hi, Alex,” I say cautiously.

He reads my body language pretty quickly. “I’m heading downstairs to make some phone calls. I heard that someone loves ice cream, so I ordered enough for the two of you to make your own sundaes.” He winks at Sara and kisses me on the cheek. “Send me a text when you’re ready for me to come back, okay?” he whispers in my ear. He stops in front of Sara, crouching down to her level. “Hi, I’m Alex and I’m so incredibly glad to meet you. I’ve heard such wonderful things about you, and I can’t wait to get to know you. Tabitha here is a very special lady. Trust me, you’re going to love her.” He looks at me as he stands, and I choke back a sob.

I feel a tug in my chest when he leaves the room. I don’t want him to go, but I need to be alone with Sara. My daughter. She’s here. With me.

I turn to see her sitting on the couch, toggling through channels on the television.

“Wow, Alex seems really nice! How does he know I like ice cream?” she asks.

“He just knows. Maybe a little birdie told him.” I smile as I wonder where my relationship with Alex is heading.

There’s a knock on the door and I hear, “Room service!”

Sara jumps up and down on the couch and screeches, “Ice cream!”

The deliveryman rolls in a huge cart filled with ice cream and dozens of toppings and sauces. Sara is digging into all of the goodies before the door closes behind him.

We fix ourselves huge sundaes and settle into the couch. Sara’s face is covered in whipped cream and chocolate syrup. I may not have parenting experience, but the kids that I see in the diner that eat this much sugar typically leave with their parents twitching and vibrating. I smile as I think that I’m going to experience Sara’s first sugar high. A first for me, for us. I watch her like I’m watching a beautiful movie. I’m engrossed by her motions and mannerisms. Is she like me? What other things does she like? Does she have a night time blanket or stuffed toy that she sleeps with? Does she like bubble baths?

I begin to get overwhelmed by the questions swirling in my head. I need to slow my thoughts down and savor each and every moment with her. I’m learning and so will she. The immense love that I feel for her is incredible. I touch the locket around my neck and my heart swells. I have my little girl back and I’m being given the chance at having my own family.

She finishes the treats in record time and is already asking for more, “Can I make another one, please?” She looks at me with her big eyes and I can’t resist.

“Of course, Sara. But only one scoop of ice cream this time, okay?” I’m proud of myself for making my first parenting decision. I just hope eating this much ice cream won’t make her sick.

As I watch her scarf down another bowl, I think about all of the fun moments that lie ahead for us. I may have been robbed of experiencing the first seven years of her life, but we now have the rest of our lives to create moments like this. I silently vow to try to make everyday with Sara be as special as a bowl of ice cream.

She slows down her assault on the ice cream and sits back on the couch. “That was delicious!” she says, rubbing her tummy. The smile slowly leaves her face. “Is Nona going to be okay?”

My heart drops in my chest as I realize I don’t know what to say to her. How do I tell her that she’s about to die? I need to think about this before I broach this subject with her so I lighten my response. “She’s very sick, honey. We’re all praying for her to get better.”

“I don’t think she will,” she says, stating it matter-of-fact as she picks up the remote control again. She puts the Disney Channel on and thankfully changes the subject. “
Sophia the First
is on! I love this show.” She smiles and I realize that she just let me off the hook as best as a seven-year-old can.

“I’ve never seen this show, but my friend Dottie has a daughter your age who just loves it.” I think she is the first little girl that I’m going to introduce to Sara. “Her name is Caitlin, and she’s great. I think the two of you are going to become best friends.”

“Yay!” she says and turns her attention back to the television. She starts singing the theme song and her voice is beautiful.

I can’t stop staring at her as she concentrates on the cartoon. The innocence and optimism that she exudes are incredible. I remember myself at her age before Trina’s death, and I can actually see my young self in her. My innocence began to deteriorate the day Trina died and spiraled out of control through the years. I don’t ever want to see Sara follow in my footsteps, and silently promise to protect her from all that is wrong in this world. I also want to learn how to be that innocent and free again, and I’m hoping that Sara can help me.

Several hours go by and after a few episodes of
Sophia the First
, we talk about all of the things that she loves. Princesses and fairies. Ponies and butterflies. Singing and dancing. She tells me about all of the things that Marta did with her when she wasn’t sick. I’m glad that she has these happy memories with Marta. I hope that I can continue to show her similar fun times.

After a while, her eyes grow heavy, and then she falls asleep mid-sentence. Smiling, I search the closet for a warm blanket and cover her with it. She looks so peaceful. I just want to pull her close and hold her while she sleeps. Tears once again spill down my cheeks as I realize that I missed out on all of the special baby bonding moments.

I scoop her up, carry her into one of the bedrooms, and tuck her into bed. My emotions bubble to the surface as I realize this is the first of many times that I’ll put my daughter to bed. I place a soft kiss on her forehead and whisper, “Goodnight, Sara,” and as I leave the room, I wish her sweet dreams.

When I sit down on the couch, my phone slides across the cushion, reminding me that I need to text Alex.

 

Sara’s asleep. You can come back now.
 

He immediately responds.

 

On my way.
 

Within a few minutes, the door unlocks, and Alex enters the suite.

“Hey, how’d everything go?” he asks in a quiet voice as he walks toward me.

My eyes flood with tears again as I shake my head. “How did I get here, Alex? How did
we
get here?” All of the emotions I’m feeling consume my thoughts as I struggle to figure out how to process all of them.

He pulls me to his chest, wrapping his strong arms around my body. “It’s been an overwhelming day for you, Tabs. I’m so proud of you for getting through it with so much courage and strength. You’re something else, you know?” he says as he kisses the top of my head.

It will never get old hearing Alex say that he’s proud of me. I hug him tight. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to talk about today? What you’re feeling ? About Marta? Tony?” he asks.

Why is he really here? I know he thought I was in danger, but how do I deserve all of this compassion from him? I’m struggling to understand why he is here with me. How can I deserve his support after all I’ve done to push him away?

I lean back and look into his eyes. “Why are you here, Alex? Why do you still care about me?” I ask, curious to hear his answer, but also afraid that he may change his mind. After all that I’ve done and kept from him, I need to know if he can put our past behind him and move forward.

“There’s that doubt surfacing again. You’re better than that now, Tabs. Please, don’t let it get to you. I’m here. You’re here. This is all happening because it’s supposed to. You deserve to build a wonderful life with that little girl.” He smoothes my hair away from my face and smiles. “I know that you and I have a long road ahead of us and some hurdles that we need to get over, but right now, there’s no other place that I’d want be. I want to be here with you, if you’ll let me.”

I don’t want to doubt him or his intentions.

I also don’t want to doubt myself or my ability to be everything that Sara needs me to be.

I first need to learn how to be a mother.

Present

Age 24

 

T
ABBY AND
I cuddle on the couch, and talk about her day. She tells me about their limo ride here, and how Sara enjoyed two helpings of ice cream. That explains why Sara’s passed out cold right now … boatloads of sugar. Tabby gets animated when she tells me all about the princess cartoons they watched together. As she nears the end of her story, uncertainty flashes in her eyes.

“Am I going to be a good mother?” she asks.

It hurts to see her old insecurities creeping back while knowing everything that she’s had to give up.

“Tabs, you’re going to be a great mother because you’re finally ready to be.” I hope that’s the answer she wants to hear because it’s what I feel. I’ve realized that the Tabby that I know now
is so much more ready than the Tabby that I knew a few years ago. This also helps me begin to understand the decision that she made about Emily. While it’s still so hard to process, and I still feel some anger and resentment, I’m able to see things a little differently now that we’re here together.

“Yes, I think I’m ready. I’m just scared, Alex. I’m afraid of not being able to help her through the hard times ahead.” She grips my arm and squeezes.

“Tell me all about it. What are you afraid of?” I ask as I place my hand over hers.

She takes a deep breath. “I lost Trina when I was seven-years-old, Sara’s age right now. She’s about to lose Marta, and I don’t know if I’m equipped to help her through the grief. I mean, look at me. I didn’t exactly handle Trina’s death very well, now did I?” she asks while she shakes her head.

“No, you didn’t. But you didn’t have a person as strong and loving as you are now to help you. You’ve overcome a lot already. I told you this before. You have come so far, and I’m so proud of you. You aren’t weak or misguided. You’re strong and level-headed. It’s amazing how you’ve transformed yourself. You’re ready for anything that comes your way, good or bad. You have to admit that your ninja attack on Tony’s grave felt good, right?” I smile, taking her bandaged hands into mine. “Even though you busted up your beautiful hands, what you did was therapeutic and you let it out. I’ve never seen you do that before. You’ve never been able to express yourself and place the blame and fault on someone other than yourself. Sara will not only benefit from your strength, but she will learn what it means to
feel
.”

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