Chapter 2: Tap, Tap, Tap, Chop, Chop, ChopA Chapter by Emily GI remember the first time I felt truly helpless. Winnie was only 8 days away from turning 1. Daniel was showering after a strenuous day and his mother, Winona, was here for dinner. She sat at the dining room table while I chopped zucchini at the counter. Right in her sightline, I could feel her stare follow my awkward hands as they clumsily chopped and chopped, begging to be finished with the task. Chop, chop, chop. “Are you sure you don’t need help Nora? I am worried you are going to chop off a thumb,” Winona oh so kindly cautioned. “Oh Winona, trust me, I would love help. I would just hate for a fake nail to end up in Daniel’s soup,” I rebuked. I heard a scoff over my shoulder and tried to hide my grin. Tap tap tap. Her stupid fake nails on my dining room table. She better not scratch it. “So,” Winona said, “Winnie’s birthday is coming up.” “Yes, it’s on the 17th. Did Daniel not tell you?” “Oh, he did. Yes, yes. Daniel did. However, I was thinking.” The last thing I needed today, Winona thinking. “What were you thinking?” “Well,” tap, tap, tap, “it’s just the location of the party. I thought it might be nice to have it somewhere bigger. That way more people can come.” Chop, chop, chop. “The location is our house. Was Daniel not clear about that? Our house is perfect for the amount of people coming,” I replied. “I thought I might invite just a couple friends,” she carelessly noted with a shrug. Breathe Nora, breathe. “Winona, this is not one of your parties. This is our daughter's birthday. Her first birthday I might add. We are having it here in our home with the people we invited.” Tap, tap, tap. “Let’s just talk about this when Daniel is here.” Oh god Daniel, please just stay in that shower. I finished chopping the zucchini and moved onto the carrots. I am not a nervous person, but I am a nervous cook. In fact, I am not even a cook, more of a person who can cook eggs and boil water. That's my style of cooking. If it comes in a box and has less than ten steps, it goes in my cart. Winona on the other hand is an exceptional cook. Even with her bright pink, too long to wipe nails, she makes everything from scratch. She doesn’t even follow recipes. She always points to her head and says it's in there. Maybe that’s why she is unable to think logically. Her brain is cluttered with information like how long to cook a meatloaf or how to make your own butter. Too many recipes for her smaller brain. No space for critical thinking. “Do you still see Winnie?” I ask. “Oh don’t make me get up. My back hurts today,” she grimaced. Tap, tap, tap. I sighed and quickly peaked around the corner into the living room. There was my sweet Winnie, laying on her blanket and playing with her little stuffed elephant. I had put her partially bald head of hair into a ponytail earlier and I can’t help but smile. She sees me and smiles back, outstretching her tiny, thick hands hoping I will pick her up. I walk over and kiss her on the head and whisper, “I am almost done sweetheart.” Winnie is my late baby. Late to birth. Late to teething. Late to a bottle. Late to crawl. Well, now she is crawling and she is crawling with such tenacity that it scares Daniel. Winona says he was the same way when he was that age. That’s just how babies are. I figured as long as the house is baby proofed, we have nothing to worry about. She can crawl, but she’s not going anywhere. I kissed her once more, cupped her cheeks, and then walked back to the kitchen. “How much longer?” Winona asked. “30 more minutes.” “Hmm. Ok.” Tap, tap, tap. I placed a pot of water on the stove and continued chopping the carrots and then the celery. Daniel came out crunching his wet hair with his towel. He was in sweats and t-shirt clothes which makes me think he forgot his mother was coming over for dinner. “My, my, my, aren’t you comfortable.” Winona remarked. “Oh Daniel, your hair! It’s so long! When was the last time you cut it?” “ I forgot she was coming today,” he mouthed to me. “I can tell” I mouthed back trying not to laugh. He turned to greet her. “A month ago mother.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s good to see you.” “Thank you dear! I have missed you and Winnie so much. Two weeks is just too long for a woman of my age. Honestly, most of my friends see their grandchildren daily. I would just love to see my sweet Winifred every day,” she trailed off. Quickly, she perked up. “While I have you here, let’s talk about Winnie’s birthday! Oh Nora, please be careful with that knife.” Chop, chop, chop. “Nora and I were talking. We thought it might be a good idea to have Winifred’s birthday at my house.” “We did talk about that, Winona, but I was very clear about having it here,” I rebutted. I felt my cheeks brighten from frustration. Tap, tap, tap. “I understand what you desire, dear, but Daniel is also one of her parents. Oh Nora please. That knife! Do be careful.” Her comments make it harder to focus. My hands became heavier and heavier until I was chopping with two cement blocks. Trying to hasten the task I nicked my thumb and gasped. “You know, that would happen if you had the correct form.” she smirked. “It wouldn’t happen if you weren’t here.” I thought. I quickly grabbed a nearby kitchen towel and wrapped it around my finger. I heard her sigh over my shoulder. “A black towel would be better. That way it won’t stain.” “I am taking out the trash!” I quickly announced. I tied the bag and scooped it up. Anything to be out of this room and away from that awful old crone of a woman. I just need a moment to gather my thoughts, to breathe. Dinner can wait. Winona and her ceaseless critiques can wait. Daniel tried to grab my arm, but I gently slid past him. “Later,” I mouthed. Tap, tap, tap. I stomped my way to the backyard door and the cold air immersed my body. I hate how she can do that. This is my house with my family. It’s my daughter’s birthday. Even though I know all of these things, she is still in control. She still slinks her bright pink fingernails into the strings of my life, pulling and dropping. Making a mockery of my movements. Making a mockery of my life. I pass by the garden, the pool, and reach the cans. “Aww crap.” I gripe. The cans are full and I had forgotten to take them out this morning for pick up day. I quickly throw up the lid and toss my garbage bag on top. As I should have predicted, the lid doesn’t close. It sits wide open with the awful odor seeping out. I can help but think it's laughing at me with its mouth open ajar. Laughing at my forgetfulness. I gave it a quick kick and turned back towards the house. To add to my list of forgetful things, I left the backyard door slightly ajar. I quickly ran inside and shut it, hoping the cold didn’t find its way in. I stayed in place, waiting to hear if someone had noticed and was complaining about a draft. I love Daniel, but he is very particular about the thermostat and keeping our bill at a “reasonable” price. Honestly, I don’t blame him with our most recent bill. “Nora!” Winona called, “Your water is going to boil over.” I ran into the kitchen to find a pot that maybe had three measly bubbles rising to the surface. “Thank you for your concern Winona.” I washed my hands and began chopping the potatoes. I hate cutting potatoes. It’s the same as cutting tomatoes. I never remember how to correctly do it and I am too lazy to look it up. Maybe that’s why the names are so similar, both a pain in the a*s to cut. Chop, chop, chop. “Back to what I was saying,” Winona continued. “Mom, I don’t know if this is the best…” “Nonsense, nonsense,” she interrupted. “We are all here, aren’t we?” Tap, tap, tap. “Winona,” I interjected, “being polite is not my strong suit.” “Honey, I knew that the day I met you,” she chuckled. Chop, chop, chop. Tap, tap, tap. “What I am trying to say is I AM trying to be polite. Please don’t push me to act otherwise. We are having her birthday party here and that is final.” Tap, tap, tap. Chop, chop, chop. “Well,” tap, tap, tap, chop, chop, chop, “we will just have to see what Daniel thinks about this.” We both turn to him and his face turns a ghostly white. “Well?” Winona questions. Tap, tap, tap. Chop, chop, chop. “Uhm. Well,” Daniel mumbled. Tap, chop, tap, chop. Chop chop tap tap chop tap chop tap. Daniel scratched his neck. “I think….” Tap chop tap chop tap chop tap chop tap chop tap chop…… SPLASH! Daniel gasped while Winona screamed, but I didn’t have to look. I knew. The door. I left the backyard door open earlier. Winnie crawled out before I shut it again. All at once and yet so slow, a burning grew in my stomach. A buzzing burning that started to spread to my chest, then to my legs and arms until my limbs were no longer mine. They belonged to this sensation. Daniel ran, Winona shuffled, but I stood. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was stand and wait. Wait to know if she was okay. I have always been a confident person. I am not afraid to speak my mind and voice an opinion, and that has often landed Daniel and I in some interesting predicaments. I relished in the sense of authority I had over my life and what occurred in it. I knew what was going to happen tomorrow and the next day, and the day after that. Sure, there were always a few hiccups, but I could always self correct, alter course. Small hiccups were nothing. I was in control of what was important. I had power over what was essential, until I heard that splash. That god awful splash. Then, I was no longer confident. No, I was terrified. I felt like a child waiting for their mother to save them. It was at that moment I realized I wasn’t in control and neither was Winona. No, we were never in control and it was naive to think we were. No one is or was in control. It was an illusion, a mere facade. I couldn’t move because I realized for the first time that I had no real authority over the people I loved. Winona was furious. She couldn’t comprehend what kind of mother would do nothing while her child was in danger. Daniel was more understanding. He tried to ask, to comfort me, but I wouldn’t allow it. I failed. I failed Winnie. I argued with Winona. I forgot to shut the door. I didn’t catch her. I vowed to never fail ever again, to always be prepared. The day that Daniel died, I didn’t fail. I felt it the second I heard the news, the sensation. Starting in my stomach, it moved to my chest and then to my limbs. There I was again and I should have stayed, paralyzed, immobile. Yet, I didn’t. I stepped. I moved. I scooped Winnie up and loved her. I kissed her sweet head and then made her dinner. All I wanted to do was stop. I wanted to be frozen in the moment before I heard the news, before I heard the splash, but I couldn’t. Not this time. I was the only person who would catch Winnie and I was not going to let her fall.
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Added on January 31, 2024 Last Updated on January 31, 2024 Author
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