Cards on the Table
Jun. 23rd, 2013 11:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pixietasticIt's early summer but the heat filters in through my second floor bedroom window like a cloud of sticky-sweet gloom, sun glares through shifting leafy branches dancing shadows across the walls, it's Thursday, nothing starts out well on Thursday. I roll out of bed catching a whiff of last nights tequila seeping out of my pores, the room tilting like a fun house, head pulsing, stomach churning. I have an hour to shower and make my way to the trendy restaurant a block away, need to put on some make up, try on a dozen outfits, drink some water, take an aspirin, my hour starts filling up before I've even hit the shower as I begin to make a methodical list of ALL THE THINGS I need to do, need to be, to make this meeting work.
Why am I so hungover, I don't even think we drank that much?
I'm always hungover on Thursdays.
Right. So why did I schedule this whole lunch thing for Thursday?
Because the kids are with the ex, they're at school, you have the time.
Right. So why did I drink so much?
You always drink like that after work on Wednesday. You hate your job remember?
Right. Into the shower then.
I finally settle on a long flowing dress that probably shows too much cleavage, and what I then consider to be "light make up" meaning less drunken-hooker and more shimmering-green can be tasteful right?
In the alley behind the restaurant nerves take over and for a minute I worry I'm going to be sick. I can't do this, what am I even going to say?
When I turn the corner they're already there, sitting at one of the outdoor tables, sipping iced tea. They're younger than me, considerably, but taller, bigger, broader shoulders, it's not the first meeting or even the second, but it's the one I know is going to count. We're unchaperoned.
We read over the menu and place our orders, I start the conversation with what I hope is a compliment about the younger one's make up, it's received as a criticism.
Of course it is.
"Look," I start again "I'm just going to put it all out here in the open ok? I know it's weird, I'm too young, he's too old, whatever. What could we even have in common right? I get it, this is going to be hard, and I'm not perfect, I'm going to fuck this up, but I'm going to try. And I don't expect you to like me, hell half the time I don't even like me, and I have no idea what I'm doing, I don't have a plan and I don't have it all figured out, but I'm here and you're here, so it's a start."
"So how long have you been dating our dad?" the younger one asks, accepting my invitation to blunt. Her hair is bright blue, eyebrows drawn on with a thin pencil, eyeliner caked to the max.
"Since January, maybe," I respond.
"I thought he was still dating Ex-Girlfriend, till March! That's what he told us?!" She's upset, accusatory.
The older one pipes in, "I never liked her anyway," her hair is perfectly flat ironed, highlights, make-up is tasteful, she could be older than me in the right light, has all the look of sophisticated successful young woman. I'm intimidated by her pretty even though she's been nothing but civil to me thus far, even though I have what feels like lifetimes of experience...
"Yeah well I was just starting to like her!" the younger one retorts.
They bicker amongst themselves the way my brother and I did when we lived at home. Teenagers, I am not equipped for this. I'm not old enough to know how to handle teenagers, hell I still remember being a stupid teenager. But we'd talked about them, he and I, long before now, we'd bonded over stories of our daughters, my two, still little, his two, nearly completely grown.
"Anyway," says the older one, turning the conversation back to me, "he's told us that you're not going anywhere, so I guess we should try and get along," she glares at her younger sister, who shoots daggers at me from across the table, I am the enemy, she's set her stun gun glare to destroy, this is going to be a long road...
"I appreciate that you guys are making an effort, really I do, thank you. I know this is weird, it's weird for me too, and I'm not about to play step-mommy, I'm in no place to tell you what to do, and I have my own children to parent. But we've got something in common right? We're all wanting your dad to be happy, so let me know what I can do to make that happen." I take a deep breath, sip on my water.
"If you want me to back off so you guys can have time with him, let me know, don't bother picking a fight with him tell me flat out "piss off, you're on our time" and I'll happily bugger off on those nights I know are your designated dad nights, if that's not what your after I'll stick around and we can get to know each other and hopefully we'll find a way to get along. I'm not here to bullshit you, I'm not, but I think we can make this work."
They look at each other, and then back at me, "ok, we can try right Little Sister?" says the older one trying to work her own death-stare over on her sibling.
The younger one just rolls her eyes and mutters a "whatever."
We finish our meals, and just as we're standing up to leave, my girlfriend wanders by with my daughters, they scream their high pitched giggles of "Mommy!" at me, before stiffening,
"Who's this?" Asks my elder daughter.
"These are Boyfriends daughters," I explain and introduce them all. My youngest plays shy, and the teenagers get nervous, we say strained goodbyes as I grab my girls by the hands.
"Mommy?" asks my younger-spawn, "can I have blue hair like her?"
I smile, "Oh my dear I suspect someday you will."
This is my entry for week 6 of LJ Idol; topic is "Cards On The Table".
As an epilogue, it has since been several years and an unplanned but very welcome baby later, and the teenagers (who are now 20somethings) are some of the most awesome people I know, I am so lucky that they were willing to give me a chance and have continued to make such an awesome effort to take part in the lives of myself, their father and the little girls, especially now that both of them are working and living on their own.
Why am I so hungover, I don't even think we drank that much?
I'm always hungover on Thursdays.
Right. So why did I schedule this whole lunch thing for Thursday?
Because the kids are with the ex, they're at school, you have the time.
Right. So why did I drink so much?
You always drink like that after work on Wednesday. You hate your job remember?
Right. Into the shower then.
I finally settle on a long flowing dress that probably shows too much cleavage, and what I then consider to be "light make up" meaning less drunken-hooker and more shimmering-green can be tasteful right?
In the alley behind the restaurant nerves take over and for a minute I worry I'm going to be sick. I can't do this, what am I even going to say?
When I turn the corner they're already there, sitting at one of the outdoor tables, sipping iced tea. They're younger than me, considerably, but taller, bigger, broader shoulders, it's not the first meeting or even the second, but it's the one I know is going to count. We're unchaperoned.
We read over the menu and place our orders, I start the conversation with what I hope is a compliment about the younger one's make up, it's received as a criticism.
Of course it is.
"Look," I start again "I'm just going to put it all out here in the open ok? I know it's weird, I'm too young, he's too old, whatever. What could we even have in common right? I get it, this is going to be hard, and I'm not perfect, I'm going to fuck this up, but I'm going to try. And I don't expect you to like me, hell half the time I don't even like me, and I have no idea what I'm doing, I don't have a plan and I don't have it all figured out, but I'm here and you're here, so it's a start."
"So how long have you been dating our dad?" the younger one asks, accepting my invitation to blunt. Her hair is bright blue, eyebrows drawn on with a thin pencil, eyeliner caked to the max.
"Since January, maybe," I respond.
"I thought he was still dating Ex-Girlfriend, till March! That's what he told us?!" She's upset, accusatory.
The older one pipes in, "I never liked her anyway," her hair is perfectly flat ironed, highlights, make-up is tasteful, she could be older than me in the right light, has all the look of sophisticated successful young woman. I'm intimidated by her pretty even though she's been nothing but civil to me thus far, even though I have what feels like lifetimes of experience...
"Yeah well I was just starting to like her!" the younger one retorts.
They bicker amongst themselves the way my brother and I did when we lived at home. Teenagers, I am not equipped for this. I'm not old enough to know how to handle teenagers, hell I still remember being a stupid teenager. But we'd talked about them, he and I, long before now, we'd bonded over stories of our daughters, my two, still little, his two, nearly completely grown.
"Anyway," says the older one, turning the conversation back to me, "he's told us that you're not going anywhere, so I guess we should try and get along," she glares at her younger sister, who shoots daggers at me from across the table, I am the enemy, she's set her stun gun glare to destroy, this is going to be a long road...
"I appreciate that you guys are making an effort, really I do, thank you. I know this is weird, it's weird for me too, and I'm not about to play step-mommy, I'm in no place to tell you what to do, and I have my own children to parent. But we've got something in common right? We're all wanting your dad to be happy, so let me know what I can do to make that happen." I take a deep breath, sip on my water.
"If you want me to back off so you guys can have time with him, let me know, don't bother picking a fight with him tell me flat out "piss off, you're on our time" and I'll happily bugger off on those nights I know are your designated dad nights, if that's not what your after I'll stick around and we can get to know each other and hopefully we'll find a way to get along. I'm not here to bullshit you, I'm not, but I think we can make this work."
They look at each other, and then back at me, "ok, we can try right Little Sister?" says the older one trying to work her own death-stare over on her sibling.
The younger one just rolls her eyes and mutters a "whatever."
We finish our meals, and just as we're standing up to leave, my girlfriend wanders by with my daughters, they scream their high pitched giggles of "Mommy!" at me, before stiffening,
"Who's this?" Asks my elder daughter.
"These are Boyfriends daughters," I explain and introduce them all. My youngest plays shy, and the teenagers get nervous, we say strained goodbyes as I grab my girls by the hands.
"Mommy?" asks my younger-spawn, "can I have blue hair like her?"
I smile, "Oh my dear I suspect someday you will."
This is my entry for week 6 of LJ Idol; topic is "Cards On The Table".
As an epilogue, it has since been several years and an unplanned but very welcome baby later, and the teenagers (who are now 20somethings) are some of the most awesome people I know, I am so lucky that they were willing to give me a chance and have continued to make such an awesome effort to take part in the lives of myself, their father and the little girls, especially now that both of them are working and living on their own.
