Last Thursday - Revisited

I was awake at 4:00 this morning. I didn't sleep well at all. I wasted a few hours worrying about returning to work next week. I'm really not looking forward to it, Ms J.

Meagan was another worry I indulged last night. I kept replaying our time together last Thursday. It began as a good day. Meagan slept until 10:00 when I woke her gently. She puttered about, showering and fussing over herself. I drank coffee and wrote in my journal.

Later, Meagan phoned her mother to tell her she was home and to ask when she was expecting her. They spoke less than five minutes before Meagan was crying. They’d argued and Kelly had hung up on her.

“I wish just once she’d ask me about my trip,” she sobbed. “Why can’t she say ‘Welcome home, Meagan. We missed you. How was your time with Dad?’”

I looked at my daughter, lip quivering, black tears on her white cheeks, and I wanted to kill my ex-wife.

“What did she say to you, Meagan?” I asked.

“You know what she said, Dad? You know what the first thing out of her mouth was?”

I shook my head slightly.

“’When are you coming home to baby-sit?’”

Meagan rose then from the couch and raced upstairs.

“I hate that woman. Why doesn’t she look after her own kids? What a fucking BITCH!”

She'd been so happy before she called her mum. She was singing and laughing about a story she'd been telling me. It broke my heart, Ms J, to see her joy snatched away like that. But what could I do? It was awkward for me, but painful for Meagan. I let her feel her feelings in her room upstairs for twenty minutes before I went and spoke with her.

"I know you're angry, Scout," I said, "but that's no way to talk about your mother."

She was defiant and said she didn't care. But I know she does care. A lot. That's why it hurts to be treated like a servant by your own mother. And, quite frankly, I agree with her assessment. Of course I could never admit that to her.

She was in no hurry now to return home and I was secretly pleased. It was after dark before she decided it was time to go. She'd spoken with her mother finally, and things had calmed considerably.

I dropped her in front of her house and watched her climb the hill to the front door. I waved good-bye and drove off without seeing my grandson. I was disappointed in that, but I just couldn’t face Kelly.

Can I tell you a secret, Ms J?

I hope one day Meagan will leave her mother's home and come live with me. But as I stared into the darkness last night, I knew that would never happen. She loves her manipulative mum. She's happy at school and she has lots of friends. It's unlikely she'll walk away from that to live in the big city with dear ol' Dad.

***