Things were going well.
It had been almost two months since they had gotten home, long enough for some of the media attention to fade and for them to finally start therapy.
Isaac had thought it was a good idea for all of them to be in therapy, he said he wanted to do it as a family. Gia had agreed, but she had yet to follow thru on a date for their first family therapy session – individual was hard enough for her.
In drained her completely and she didn’t like the diagnoses thrown at her – PTSD, depression, anxiety, insomnia, and just so many things. Her therapist wanted to see her twice a week, but Gia often skipped the second session out of pure exhaustion.
It didn’t help that she felt guilt over Holiday’s diagnoses being nearly identical to hers. She had assumed it would be so, but she truly felt she had failed at protecting her child. She had one job.
She pulled herself out of her thoughts at the sound of Holiday calling her name. She looked up at the girl and forced a smile. “All set?” She asked her. The little girl tucked a few curls around her ear and nodded.
They were in the waiting area of their psychologist’s office. Today, they had sessions at the same time. Gia hadn’t finished before Holiday (she hadn’t spoken a whole lot) and had been sitting in the waiting room for about fifteen minutes waiting on the girl.
Gia stood and looked out through the windows lining the front side of the building. “I don’t think your dad’s here yet.” She couldn’t blame him; they both had finished earlier than they were supposed to. “Do you want to wait out there or in here?” She already knew the answer but asked anyway.
“Outside,” Holiday said quickly. Claustrophobia.
“Okay,” Gia wrapped an arm around the child’s shoulders and lead the way out of the glass doors and to the front of the building and into a patch of sunlight. “How did it go?” She asked lightly, making sure the girl knew she didn’t have to tell her if she didn’t want too.
Holiday leaned against her and shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” She began to fidget a moment later. “Do…we have…to…” She trailed off. “This weekend…”
Ah. Gia knew where the girl was going even though she hadn’t finished her thought. Gia swallowed a bit thickly, her own anxiousness about what was happening in a few days rearing its ugly head. She nibbled on her lip briefly.
“We can’t avoid this forever…”
“I know but…”
“It’s better just to get it over with.” Gia felt as if she was trying to convince herself more than her daughter. “Beth won’t be a part of the equation, Hols. It’s just Jacob… and grandpa. You remember grandpa right, you two were close.” Holiday didn’t like new people or being introduced to those from the past again.
In two days, Gia was going to see her father again after nearly three years. The father who hadn’t believed in her when she needed him most, and who, in her mind, didn’t find her as important as his blood daughter. She had heard that his health was failing and had started too after she and Holiday had been taken – Mrs. Sarah, suggested the reason he had been recently getting better was because of their return.
Gia felt the woman was in a way guilting her to see her father again – she didn’t doubt that he was sick – but she just wasn’t ready. She didn’t know how to handle seeing him again. Mrs. Sarah brought Ben and his failing health up so often though and the woman had helped raise her children in her absence (and honestly still did in many ways) that she couldn’t fight off the meeting any longer.
The visit would just coincide with Jacob’s – Isaac was going to cookout on the grill.
Holiday was nervous about seeing Jacob again – having that they had shared in a lie. Gia tried to explain to her that they both were very young children at the time and that they weren’t responsible but that the adults were.
“I was mean to him a lot.” Holiday finally said after a short bout of silence. Gia glanced down at the child because her tone actually seemed to be tinted with amusement instead of guilt. When Holiday looked up at her with a small smile, Gia’s heart shifted and soared. “He was kind of stupid, hopefully he’s smarter now.”
Gia laughed shortly. “Careful there you’re talking about Collin’s hero, don’t let him hear you saying that.” Gia was highly amused by her son’s admiration of his older brother. It was adorable and exhausting at the same time, considering how much the four-year-old talked about Jacob and soccer.
Holiday made a face and shook her head. “He talks about him all the time!” She laughed. “If he’s not knocking everything over with his soccer ball, that is!” Holiday gave Gia and unexpected hug, which the woman quickly returned. “Hopefully Sullivan doesn’t start too!”
Gia sobered a little at the mention of Sullivan – who was the topic her therapist had unsuccessfully tried to get at today. How did she feel about Sullivan? Did she resent him? Did she see him differently from her other children? Was he a burden to her? A bad memory?
She spotted Isaac’s car pulling into the parking lot.
“Geez, am I late?” He asked quickly rolling down the window after he had stopped in front of them. He looked at his phone. “I’m so sorry!”
“Momma!” He had Sullivan in the backseat.
The now quiet and much shier Holiday moved from her embrace and quietly joined her little brother in the first row of the two rows in the back of the car.
“No,” She told him as she got into her car herself, “we were just done a little early.” She assured.
“Still,” he let out a breath, “we should swing by Verizon and get you a phone so you can get in contact with me when stuff like this happens.”
Gia grimaced. “No,” she shook her head, “it’s alright. We could have used their phone if we really needed too. There’s no need for any of that.”
Isaac glanced at her frustration flashing across his eyes briefly like it always did when she denied his attempts to spend more money on them (especially Sullivan and herself) then what was necessary. Isaac was a security guard, she learned two weeks prior when he finally went back to work. She learned that he went in around nine at night and got off early in the mornings. He worked long hours and she wondered how he got any rest with all the kids (she guessed Mrs. Sarah came in then). Gia just felt uncomfortable having him spend his hard-earned money on them.
The frustration didn’t stay on his face long, but he did rub his chin. “Honestly, Gee,” he took his gaze off the road again to meet her eyes, “I’ll feel a whole hell of a lot better if you had one.” He said earnestly. “I would ask you why you’re so against me buying you this…” He paused in a way that told her he was waiting for her response, “but I know you’re not ready yet to tell me and that’s okay.” He finished after the short pause, eyes returning to the road. He fell quiet once again for a short while. “I love you, Gee. I hope you know that and…you don’t ever have to feel uncomfortable about me spending money on you guys. You ar-“
“It’s okay, we can get the phone. Where are the rest of the kids?” She interrupted her heart was pounding. She rubbed the back of her neck. She wanted to change the subject desperately. He had begun to read her too well recently.
Isaac let out a breath but didn’t mention her cutting him off. “Mrs. Sarah swung by and took them to church with her. I forgot they were doing some sort of bible camp or something…Sullivan’s just a bit too young, so I kept him with me. She probably won’t be back with them until after I’ve left for work.”
“Have you even gotten any sleep?” She asked worriedly. She wasn’t worried about Mrs. Sarah taking the children to church with her. The children adored the older woman and Mrs. Sarah knew them better than she herself did and clearly loved them very much.
Isaac waved his hand dismissively which didn’t make the guilt she was feeling lessen. “I’m good, Gee.”
Thirty minutes later found them sitting in McDonalds.
“We should have just taken this to go, that way you could have gotten more rest.” Gia said with a soft breath as she racked most of her fries onto Holiday’s burger wrapper. The little girl looked at her with a soft frown that the mother understood right away. Gia held up her fish sandwich to the girl to show her that she was eating something. “Worry wart, eat the fries. They’re your favorite.” She said quietly.
“I got plenty of sleep earlier and I took a power nap before I came to pick you guys up. I’m good.” Isaac assured. Gia sipped her drink, deciding to let it go. If he said he got enough rest, she supposed he did. Isaac turned to Sullivan, who had decided he wanted to sit (he was standing actually) on booth seat next to Isaac. He laughed at the sight Sullivan’s ketchup covered face. “Geez, big boy, you got more food on your face then in your mouth.”
Sullivan seemed confused at first as he chewed on too many fries - pale cheeks bulging - before he burst into a fit of giggles (probably still confused) but he seemed to like Isaac’s attention.
Isaac grabbed a napkin and began to clean the child’s face and hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world – like Sullivan was his child. Gia frowned.
“There we go, all clean.” He said once he had finished.
“All clean!” Sullivan parroted. He turned to Gia and held up his hands to show them off. “All clean, momma!”
Gia forced a smile. “That’s good, Sullie.” Her eyes flickered to Isaac. “Thank you.”
Issac looked disappointed for a spilt second before he smiled. “No problem, Gee. You know you don’t have to thank me for every little thing though, right?”
Gia shrugged lightly. “I guess I know that… it’s just… Sullivan’s my responsibility solely, not yours. You don’t have to-“
“I’m not going to treat him differently, Gee.” Isaac interrupted, his own frown in place. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
Gia’s lips fell shut. Her stomach churned for a reason even unknown to herself. “You… don’t have to…” She finally said.
Isaac frown turned from one of confusion to one of concern. He turned looked from Sullivan who had gone back to shoving fries into his mouth to Holiday who was pretending to be focused on her chicken nuggets (Gia knew better). “I…He’s…my children’s sibling and…he’s your son…I wouldn’t treat him any differently… He can be my son too…if you want that, I mean.” He seemed to study her face and whatever he saw there made him sit back heavily against the booth. “You don’t want that…” It was hard for her to read every emotion on his face, but he diffidently hurt. “Why?”
Why? Why was she so opposed to something Isaac was clearly open too? Sullivan needed a father. He had one, a father that is, but she took that away. No matter how terrible the man had been, he had still been Sullivan’s father. And she had taken that away. She had killed her son’s father.
She shivered, suddenly cold.
She looked between her flaxen haired child and Isaac; they didn’t really look anything a like. She knew who Sullivan looked like. She couldn’t pretend he was Isaac’s son even if Isaac was willing to say he was.
“I love you, Gia.” Isaac spoke again when she remained quiet for too long. She knew he loved her; he had started trying to tell and show her that again just a week after they got back. She loved him too, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it or show it. “I love you, and I love the children I helped you create and the one who as far as I’m concerned you made all on your own. I…just…”
“Can we talk about this another time?” She asked shakily. She pointedly shot a glance at Holiday.
Isaac glanced at their daughter, his lips pressing together thinly before he nodded.
“Just...promise you’ll talk to me later, Gee.”
She nodded once, but she didn’t verbalize her promise.