Page 60 of Sawyer

It’s obvious Dan is trying to keep his annoyance in check. Rolling his lips between his teeth, he pastes on that smile again. “I tried to be there, Bug. I want you to know that. I’m really sad I’m not holding your hand right now.”

It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. Dan’s attempts to guilt-trip me used to get me riled up, but now I just feel sorry for the guy. How insecure do you have to be to try to make the mother of your child feel bad at the expense of that child?

It’s no secret that June prefers me to him. I didn’t engineer it that way as some sort of evil master plan, the way Dan thinks I did. I just showed up for my daughter. I did the hard work of caretaking—the late-night feedings, the baths, the playtime—while Dan … didn’t. I told him time and time again that if he wanted June to bond with him, he had to participate more. He’d always promise to do better, try harder.

But he never did. Which is how we ended up separated when Junie turned one, and divorced when she was two.

“Bye, Daddy!” June says. “Mommy, can you please unbuckle me now?”

“Magic word?”

“Please please please!”

“Okay.” I angle the phone so I face the screen. “I’ll report back on how it goes.”

“Not like I can do anything about it if it doesn’t go well.”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. “All right, Dan. We’ll talk later.”

“Bye, Junie!” He waves, then hangs up.

Nice of him to ask how I’m doing.

Then again, what did I expect? Dan never asked about me when we were married.

Still, it’d be nice to have a little moral support here. Dan thinks I chose to go through this alone, but I didn’t. I’d love to have someone holdmyhand right now.

I’d love to have someone at least try to make me feel better about the fact that I’m dropping my daughter off with strangers at a strange place for the first time.

I don’t have that someone. But I do have Junie. And I’m determined to make sure she has the best first day at school ever.

Together, she and I walk toward a door on the side of the building. Per the instructions sent to me in an email, this is the entrance for both of the threes classes. An older woman with short brown hair and kind eyes stands at the open door.

“Is this June?” she asks, her face creasing into a smile. “I’m Ms. Sherman. It’s so nice to meet you.”

I paste on a smile of my own, trying very hard not to cry when Junie gets shy all of a sudden and tucks herself against my legs.

“This is June, yes.” I run a hand over her back. “She’s so excited for her first day. Isn’t that right, Junie?”

She doesn’t say anything, but she does nod.

Am I making the right decision? I feel like she’s ready for school, but maybe starting in the middle of the year like this was a bad idea. She’s just been through so much change. Too much. To add school to the list—what was I thinking?—

“How about this?” Ms. Sherman bends at the waist, holding out her hand to June. “You and I can hold hands while we go inside. That way you’re not alone, okay?”

The lump in my throat is so big that it’s difficult to breathe. “That’s so kind of you, Ms. Sherman.”

“We’re going to have a ball today. We’ll read books, and we’ll play on the playground, and we’ll even get to play with glitter!”

“Glitter? Wow!” I give June’s shoulder a squeeze. “June loves glitter, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she says quietly.

The New Parent Handbook the school gave me said to make drop-off as quick as possible. Makes sense—the longer you linger, the better chance there is of your kid having a meltdown.

Still feels wrong to gently pry my daughter off my legs. “You’re going to do so great. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

She looks up at me. Nowhereyes are filled with tears. “But Mommy?—”

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