Page 22 of The Space He Left
The next morning brought my baby shower, held at The Copper Fox in the private dining room Sam had reserved for us weeks ago. The space was beautiful, decorated with yellowand white balloons, fresh flowers, and elegant table settings. My friends had outdone themselves, creating a celebration worthy of the daughter I was about to meet.
But the empty chair beside me felt like a spotlight on my situation. Although Sam quickly whisked it away.
"Where's Jack?" asked Jennifer, looking around the room expectantly.
"He couldn't leave Madison." The words came automatically now, rehearsed from weeks of similar explanations.
I watched the expressions on my friends' faces as they processed this information. The careful expressions, the exchanged glances, the way they tried to hide their disapproval. Jack running out of our anniversary dinner had been understandable. Missing my hospital scare had been concerning. Missing our baby shower felt like a step too far, a betrayal they couldn't overlook.
"Well," said Lisa finally, her voice bright with forced cheer, "we're here to celebrate you and this beautiful baby."
The gifts were generous and thoughtful. Clothes and blankets, books and toys, everything our daughter would need. Each present was opened with genuine gratitude from me and enthusiastic praise from my friends. But underneath the celebration, I could feel everyone's awareness of Jack's absence.
Sam had created something special for the occasion – a memory book where each guest could write advice, wishes, or memories for the baby. As I read through the pages, I was touched by the love and support of my community.
To the little one, always remember: Your mama is the strongest, kindest woman I've ever known. You are so lucky to have her, and we are all so lucky to have you. Can't wait for a lifetime of adventures. – Love, your Auntie Lisa
Welcome to the world, sweet girl. I hope you always know how loved you are, right from this very first moment. Your arrival is a gift to us all. – All my love, Aunt Rowena
Little one, you are being born into a whole town that is ready to love you. Welcome to the Willowbrook family! We can't wait to watch you grow. – Aunty Jennifer
Hey, kiddo. Get ready, because you and I are going to cause so much trouble together. Can't wait to teach you how to fish, how to skip rocks, and how to get away with stealing extra cookies from your mom. – Your partner in crime, Uncle Sam
There was a page for Mama's thoughts, which I'd been writing in throughout the day. But the page I'd hoped would be filled with Jack's words – his promises, his excitement, his love for our daughter – remained blank.
"This is beautiful," I said, holding up the book. "Thank you all so much."
"We wanted you to know that even if Jack can't be here, you're not alone," said Rowena. "This baby is going to be surrounded by people who love her."
The kindness overwhelmed me, and I felt tears start to fall. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to cry at my baby shower."
"You cry all you want," said Lisa, moving to hug me. "You're doing something incredible, and you deserve to feel supported every step of the way."
Sam appeared at my side with tissues and a gentle smile. "Hey, hormones are powerful things. Nothing wrong with a few tears at a celebration."
As my friends began to clean up and prepare to leave, each one hugged me tightly and made promises to check on me in the coming days. The love in that room was palpable, real, and sustaining.
But it wasn't Jack's love. It wasn't my husband choosing to be present for our daughter's celebration. Nope, he was hours away in the city with Madison.
"Thank you," I said to Sam as he helped me load the gifts into his truck. "For everything. The venue, the cake, the memory book... You made this special."
"You made it special just by being you." He paused, studying my face. "How are you really doing, Harper?"
I looked at the gifts filling the back of his truck, thought about the empty chair at my baby shower, the missed appointments, and the photo of Madison looking vibrant and healthy while Jack described her as dying.
"I'm figuring out that I married a man who makes promises he can't keep," I said finally. "And I'm trying to decide if I can live with that."
"And?"
"I don't think I can. Not for our daughter. She deserves a father who shows up."
Sam nodded, his expression serious. "She deserves that. And so do you."
That night, I sat in the nursery surrounded by the gifts from the shower, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and loneliness. The room was ready, filled with everything our daughter would need. But the one thing I'd wanted most – her father's presence, his excitement, his partnership – was nowhere to be found.
I placed my hand on my belly, feeling our daughter's strong movements. "I'm ready for you, little one," I whispered. "And even if daddy isn't here, you're going to be so loved."
The baby kicked in response, and I smiled despite everything. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new disappointments, and new tests of my ability to handle Jack's choices. But tonight, in this perfect nursery filled with love from my community, I felt strong enough to face whatever came next.
