Reminders of Him(70)

Grace makes it to my yard a few seconds later. She shoots me a teasing look, as if she knows why I was out all night. She might think she knows, but she wouldn’t be looking at me like this if she had any clue who I was with.

“You look like you didn’t get much sleep,” she says.

“I slept plenty. Get your head out of the gutter.”

Grace laughs and tugs on Diem’s ponytail. “Well, you have perfect timing. She was hoping to say goodbye before we left.”

Diem hugs my neck again. “Don’t forget about me,” she says, loosening her grip so I can set her back down.

“You’ll only be gone one night, D. How could I forget about you?”

Diem scratches her face and says, “You’re old, and old people forget stuff.”

“I am not old,” I say. “Hold on before you go, Grace.” I unlock my front door and head to my kitchen and grab the flowers I bought for her yesterday morning. I haven’t let a Mother’s Day or a Father’s Day pass without getting something for her or Patrick.

She’s been like a mother to me my whole life, so I’d honestly probably still buy her flowers even if Scotty were here.

“Happy Mother’s Day.” I hand them to her, and she acts surprised and delighted and gives me a hug, but I don’t hear her thank-you through the loud regret piercing through me right now.

I forgot today was Mother’s Day. I woke up next to Kenna this morning and said nothing to her about it. I feel like an asshole.

“I need to put these in water before I go,” Grace says. “Want to buckle Diem into the car for me?”

I grab Diem’s hand and walk them across the street. Patrick is already in the car waiting. Grace walks the flowers into the house, and I open the back door to buckle Diem into her car seat. “What’s Mother’s Day?” she asks me.

“It’s a holiday.” I keep my explanation brief, but Patrick and I trade glances.

“I know. But why are you and NoNo giving Nana flowers for Mother’s Day? You said Robin is your mother.”

“Robin is my mother,” I say. “And your grandma Landry is NoNo’s mother. That’s why you’re going to see her today. But on Mother’s Day, if you know a mother that you love, you buy her flowers even if she isn’t your mother.”

Diem crinkles up her nose. “Am I supposed to give my mother flowers?” She’s really been working through the whole family tree lately, and it’s cute, but also concerning. She’s eventually going to find out her family tree was once struck by lightning.

Patrick finally chimes in. “We gave your nana her flowers last night, remember?”

Diem shakes her head. “No. I’m talking about my mother that isn’t here. The one with the tiny car. Are we supposed to give her flowers?”

Patrick and I trade another glance. I’m sure he’s mistaking the pain on my face for discomfort at Diem’s question. I kiss Diem on the forehead just as Grace returns to the car. “Your mother will get flowers,” I say to Diem. “Love you. Tell your grandma Landry I said hello.”

Diem smiles and pats my cheek with her tiny hand. “Happy Mother’s Day, Ledger.”

I back away from the car and tell them to have a safe trip. But as they’re driving away, I feel my heart grow heavier as Diem’s words sink in.

She’s starting to wonder about her mother. She’s starting to worry. And even though Patrick assumed I was just reassuring her by saying Diem’s mother would get flowers, I was actually making her a promise. One I won’t break.

The idea of Kenna going through the entire day today without her motherhood being acknowledged by anyone makes me angry at this whole situation.

I sometimes want to place that blame directly on Patrick and Grace, but that’s not fair either. They’re just doing what they need to do to survive.

It is what it is. A fucked-up situation, with no evil people to blame. We’re all just a bunch of sad people doing what we have to do to make it until tomorrow. Some of us sadder than others. Some of us more willing to forgive than others.

Grudges are heavy, but for the people hurting the most, I suppose forgiveness is even heavier.



I pull up to Kenna’s apartment a few hours later and am halfway to the stairs when I spot her out back. She’s cleaning off the table I lent her when she notices me. Her eyes fall to the flowers in my hand, and she stiffens. I walk closer to her, but she’s still staring at the flowers. I hand them to her. “Happy Mother’s Day.” I’ve already put the flowers in a vase because I wasn’t sure if she even had one.

Based on the look on her face, I’m wondering if maybe I shouldn’t have bought her flowers. Maybe celebrating Mother’s Day before she’s even met her child is uncomfortable. I don’t know, but I feel like I should have put more thought into this moment.

She takes them from me with hesitation, like she’s never been given a gift before. Then she looks at me, and very quietly, she says, “Thank you.” She means it. The way her eyes tear up immediately convinces me bringing them was the right move.

“How was the lunch?”

She smiles. “It was fun. We had fun.” She nudges her head up to her apartment. “You want to come up?”

I follow her upstairs, and once we’re inside her apartment, she tops off the vase with a little more water and sets it on her counter. She’s adjusting the flowers when she says, “What are you doing today?”