AN EXCHANGE OF SORTS
‘He’s early. It’s a miracle!’, I heard my son exclaim as I relayed the contents of the text from his father letting me know he was already downstairs waiting. About 10 minutes earlier than suggested. I don’t believe that has ever happened. Perhaps the full moon had something to do with this strange behaviour.
We were in the middle of our breakfast of creamy wheat along with Croatian coffee. I told him to be at our place 20 minutes earlier than needed as I thought he would be late, as always. A technique I often saw my father use with his cousin as he told her our dinners would be an hour earlier than they actually were, which would make her arrive on time.
My son’s father was taking him to the Saturday kickboxing class. A requirement for his off-campus physical education class, soon to be over. In the meantime, I decided to text my middle daughter to see if she would like to go to the coffeehouse. An exchange of sorts, seeing how her brother was spending time with their father. Her sister was at a friend’s house, so I figured she would not want to come along.
She texted back asking if her sister could come. ‘Of course!’, I answered back.
‘how much time do you think I have time to get ready before you’re here cause I just woke up’, she texted back.
‘How much do you need?’, I asked.
‘…like 40 mins…’, she replied. I ended up leaving an hour later, as I wanted to give her enough time. I figured I could take care of some laundry and dishes in the meantime.
They climbed in the middle section of the minivan, struggling with the half-broken doors. We were then on our way to Bee Cave to enjoy a few hours together.
My middle daughter, Cinnamon, decided to wear her heavy skate shoes. Her sister guided her along the sidewalk until we had to cross the street to get to the lululemon pop-up shop. The girls spent a while in the shop looking and trying on various items. They were surprised when they got to choose one item each. An Easter gift.
Afterwards, we made our way to the coffeeshop. It was busier than the last time I was there with their brother. The girls were almost finished with the cinnamon pull-apart muffin by the time we finally got our warm coffees. Saffron already had her apple cider. Visions of my own coffeeshop, the one in my past dreams, danced in my head as I tried to picture how the layout would be and how I would make sure to hire plenty of staff for a weekend. I then returned to my cappuccino and apricot scone.
As we left the coffeehouse, my middle daughter wanted to go to the grassy area to do some handstands. I sat in a chair by the lawn and observed my two girls, grateful I was able to spend some time with them today.
Earlier, my middle daughter surprised me when she asked to go to the bookstore. She wanted to look at a book, one based on true life events, which was made into a ‘supernatural thriller drama film’. I was excited at the prospect that she might actually read the book. Alas, she decided against it, stating there were too many pages to keep her attention. Perhaps I will have to buy the book for myself and read it, as it seemed to be an interesting story.
Over an hour later, we left Bee Cave and headed back towards home. My older daughter seemed bored and wanted to go home. I struggled with the idea that I barely had any time with them and was going to drop her off at home, mentioning that I needed to go buy some liquors for something I plan to make. My middle daughter was fine with coming along, so I decided to keep driving.
The liquors I needed were rum and plum brandy for Easter bread. Something I haven’t made since before the divorce. It was a challenge I needed to make this weekend. As I went to Spec’s, the girls went to Five Below and the fabric store next door. About ten minutes later, we were on our way again.
My older daughter decided to guide me to a place she really wanted to go. It was a bit out of the way, but I decided it would give me a bit more time in their presence, even if they weren’t exactly talking with me. We arrived at the new location of the cookie shop in Cedar Park, where Saffron purchased a box of four large crumbl cookies. They were so large that they looked like mini cakes. One of the carrot cake cookies she gave to me and her brother. Something we devoured after dinner.
Today’s journey with the girls had come to an end too soon for my liking. Four and a half hours later, as my oldest relayed to her brother who was still spending time with their father at their home. I went home and waited for my son to arrive in the early evening, only to picked up two hours later to go to the movies with his father, stepmother, and a few others, but not his sisters. They were grounded for two separate reasons.
Though I support the time my son has with his father, I would like to have more of an equal amount of time with the girls. An exchange of sorts which is more equitable. But like all things which are out of the ordinary, I realise getting to a place of feeling comfortable with the situation will take some time.
