Page 93 of Entirely Yours
“Well, I—” She stops me with a look that I’m sure she used frequently while raising four children. “Yeah, okay. After girls day could work too.”
“Wonderful,” she replies. “Here’s a breakfast sandwich. We’re going to get our nails done.”
“Is this like—I mean… are you going to lecture me on the top ten ways to satisfy your partner?”
Her smile turns mischievous. “Only if you want me to,mon chou.”
Elaine doesn’t wait for me to answer before she heads toward the front door. I trip over myself to follow. “What does that mean? I’ve heard you call your kids that before.”
“It’s a French term of endearment,” she says over her shoulder. “Literally translates to ‘my cabbage’ which is why I switch back and forth. Hugo’s mother used it frequently with him, so I picked it up when the kids were little. Had to add my own touch, though.” She turns and winks at me.
“I love it,” I say. “I call Chloe ‘my chicken.’”
“I’ve heard!” We slide into the car before she continues. “Where did that come from?”
I think about it for a moment. “You know, I don’t really remember. She was always on the go as a baby and toddler, from the moment she could crawl, I couldn’t keep up with her. I used to say she was running around like a chicken with its head cut off—do people say that up here? Anyway, that eventually turned into calling her chicken, and here we are.”
She smiles at that, and we continue to make small talk on the way to the nail salon.
“A manicure and pedicure for us both,” Elaine tells the receptionist.
“Oh gosh, I should just do a manicure. My feet are disgusting from years of putting them through hell.”
Elaine glances down at my sandaled feet, turns back to the receptionist, and says, “A manicure and pedicure for us both.”
“You are,” I say, “a force to be reckoned with, Elaine Bardot.”
She looks at me with blatant sincerity. “That’s the nicest thing you could have said to me.”
I sit in the massage chair which feels very nice, I won’t lie, and tell the tech to leave my callouses on. “I’ll give you the pedicure,” I concede, “but I need the callouses to dance.”
“Fine, fine.”
A comfortable silence descends. I enjoy being pampered,something I’d never do for myself. Spending time with Elaine has me thinking about how I parent Chloe, but also time spent with my grandmother before she passed. I’ve wanted a mother figure in my life, I told Dad as much yesterday, and I’m thankful that Elaine is sort of forcing her love on me. Eventually, I break the silence by blurting out, “I don’t have a mom.”
Smooth transition, Thea.
“I mean, I do have a mom. Did. I don’t remember her, though. I never had someone to give me motherly advice. Do you—do you have any?”
Elaine looks at me thoughtfully. “Julien was the perfect baby.”
Of course he was.
“Ben, however,” she continues. “He never slept. Gabe was only two years old when the twins were born, and I think I blacked out for most of their infancy. Truly, Thea, I’m so impressed by you. You are a wonderful mother to Chloe already—you don’t need my advice.”
“Thank you for saying that. I don’t feel like a good mom.” I sigh. “What kind of mom loses their kid in a public place?”
“Every kind of mom, dear. One time I left Bex on the front porch, fully strapped into her infant car seat. We drove halfway down the street before Jules said, ‘Where’s BB, Mama?’ and I realized I had left her.” She chuckles. “You’ve met her, she turned out fine.”
“Oh my God,” I chuckle. “Are you serious?”
“Yes!” she laughs. “I beat myself up over it for weeks! That’s just part of motherhood. We mess up, we apologize, rinse and repeat. Your kids have to see you own your mistakes—that way they don’t feel like they always have to be perfect. Whoever perpetuates the idea that parents never mess up, they’re the issue here, not you. Take some of that pressure off of yourself.”
And with her words, I truly do feel like she’s taken a weight off my shoulders. “Thank you,” I say. “I needed to hear that.” Iclose my eyes, letting myself enjoy the hot water bubbling around my feet. “Tell me more about baby Jules.”
“Julien… Julien has always been my quiet child. He’s introspective in a way his brothers aren’t. They were the class clowns, where he was content to sit back and observe. I think he and Bex are similar in that way, but Bex has really come into her own in her relationship with Anders. He’s allowed her to find her footing and flourish into a wonderful adult—she would have done that on her own, but it’s nice to have a supportive partner. Julien needs someone like that. He has an air of quiet confidence but doubts himself more than he’ll let on. He’s a caretaker but needs to be taken care of just as much as he needs to care for others. I’m sure you know all of this,” she finishes.
I do, but I don’t. I say as much to Elaine.
