My Midnight Confession

And so, for the next hour or so, as I packed lunches and dug out Easter decorations, and folded laundry and completed all manner of other household chores. Abby and I texted. Shared our experiences. Talked about our decisions. Opened our hearts.



It was the best thing I could have done for both of us to have reached out to her.



She’d made peace with herself about her decisions. Had no regrets. Didn’t care what others thought.


Good girl. Me either.



She could go to her father’s family’s house, even be around her father and feel completely at ease with her decisions and situation.



I think it helps that she is in college and has a great excuse not to prolong her stay…”Oh Gosh! Look at the time! Better hit the books! Got a study group meeting in half an hour in the Starbucks near school. Endoplasmic reticulum await me!” Should anyone turn up the heat, she can turn on the jets.



I wondered if having been in touch with me would be a game changer with J. and his family. It was a while before she took a seat at his mother’s table. Endora had judged her very harshly as well. So much as put it in writing. In her graduation card, no less. (And there was a part of me that was both horrified and relieved at that. Horrified that she’d be willing to create that vivid and heinous a memory for a young person. Relieved that my mother is not the only one to actually stoop so low. A double edged sword for sure.)



There is another part of me that wondered if the self-righteous, outspoken teenager that I’d known would give up the tapes and mention our texts at Easter dinner. Probably not. She’d be roasted right along side the ham for having crossed the picket line. But just in case there was a conflict brewing and she wanted to nail a coffin or two shut, make some zinging parting comments before getting into her car, I gave her the ammo.



I made sure she knew that her father had caused me beaucoup trouble and caused his own demise with me. And that I’d be wading out of the pile of #$(*&%^$ for months to come because of his nonsense. That no matter what anyone believes, he had himself to blame. I also let her know that my children are doing wonderfully and ask about her often, Moira too, (carefully omitting the names of the troublemakers they would sooner be dipped in shit than see again). That my job is interesting and I am enjoying loads of success (Take that career cafeteria lady, Sheila!) and I have fallen truly, madly, deeply in love with a wonderful man who has made my dreams come true. Pinch me! Life is so grand, no cement dress fashioned by her father or his miserable collection of woeful misfits could ever bring me down.



She sent me a half dozen cutesy happy emoticons and told me that I deserved every happiness.



I told her that she did too, and I was confident her star was rising.



She said she’d been in my neighborhood recently with a friend and remembered such good times in my house.



I told her she’s welcome any time. The friend too. Just come to the door.



With studying to do on her end, and a dishwasher to empty on mine, we said goodnight and promised to stay in touch.



And I intend to keep the promise.