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“I have a proposal for you,” said Ross.
“A proposal?”
“I don’t want Kayla to grow up like I did… like you did. We have a chance here to give her a normal life with a real family.”
“Stop right there,” I said, those little flickers of rage licking up my bones through my veins. “I am not you and I am not my mother. Kayla never wanted for anything in her life. I might not be the perfect or ideal caretaker but I have done everything I could to give her a good time.”
“I know,” said Ross. “She’s a remarkably well-adjusted child considering what she’s been through. She’s talkative and confident and well-spoken and she’s very polite. You’ve done an amazing job.”
“That must have some as a shock to you,” I said. “Considering what I reprobate I clearly am.”
“You’re very defensive,” said Ross.
“Because everyone keeps attacking me,” I said. “Do you know I’ve never taken any drugs. I’ve never even touched alcohol unless I knew there was someone else to look after Kayla. I’m not you!”
“I’m not attacking you,” said Ross. “I’m just asking you to consider the idea that Kayla might benefit from a more traditional family unit.”
“I am her family,” I said. “Anthony was her family. Do you want to know why she’s so confident and engaging? It’s because of him!”
“I respect everything you’ve done for her and everything you’ve given up. Kayla adores you. You’re her hero. I couldn’t have done that when I was your age. I’m just asking you to think about it.”
“I’m not thinking about anything until I see my sister. My sister. Do you hear that? Mine!”
“I’ll bring her tomorrow,” he said.
“Now get out,” I said.
There had been times before where I had wondered if me being Kayla’s primary caretaker was the best possible thing for her. When she was really, really tiny there were days where I had no idea what to do with her. She screamed and screamed and screamed and I fed her with stolen formula and changed her using stolen nappies and burped her just like Mrs O’Flaherty had taught me to do but it made no difference. She screamed anyway. Occasionally on one of her good days my mother popped in and held her and soothed her but on most days she just yelled at me to shut up that goddamned screaming baby because she had a headache.
I made lots of mistakes. I didn’t take Kayla for any inoculations because I was scared if I took her to the doctor without my mother, they would come and investigate our living conditions and take her away from me. She got measles when she was two and nearly died because she was so sick. I had never forgive myself for that.
When she was three I put her on the kitchen counter while I was making us dinner and she fell and hit her head because of my negligence. I kept her in a home where there was violence and abuse and drugs. Where people shouted and fought and destroyed things. Where I had to clean and disinfect things before she could touch them. These last few months had started to take away my doubts though. Anthony had treated Kayla as if she belonged to him as much as she belonged to me and Iva had showered her with motherly affection. I was starting to believe that maybe everything had happened the way it had for a reason. It wasn’t a normal family but it was a family, one that had love in place of convention.
Now Kayla would be stuck with an older brother who was emotionally vacant, lost and in constant pain and with, essentially, nowhere to live. After the flourish I had stormed out of my mother’s flat with, I doubted she would take us back, if she was even around since the police had indicated that she had vanished. I would have to apply to get primary guardianship of Kayla. I’d need to forget uni and find some kind of job to support us.
There was never a question that it wouldn’t be worth it. Anything for Kayla would be worth it. The first time she smiled at me, I fell completely, hopelessly in love with her. Even then I knew it was a selfish kind of love. I loved Kayla because she gave me an anchor, a buoy to cling to in a life where I could have gotten completely lost so easily. Kayla was a reason to keep getting up and trying and moving forward. I needed her way more than she ever needed me.
The question was if keeping her with me when there was another alternative was motivated by a need to take care of Kayla or a need to take care of myself. I knew that having her with me had been better than letting her be taken into care. I knew all the stories about kids being taken into care, enough of my neighbourhood had spent some time in the hands of the authorities and for the most part no matter how awful your family was it was better than that. Every time we had been without heating or very much food or my mother and the boyfriend of the hour were destroying the flat I told myself that it was better than her being taken away. This was different though. This was the offer of an actual family with a mother and a father. If I denied Kayla that then was I as guilty of neglect as my mother?
The thoughts tore around in my head intermingled with memories of Anthony and Kayla together and how the two of them would gang up on me to get what they wanted. They both had deplorable taste in Disney cartoons and would sit next to each other with their bottom lips pushed out whenever I refused to watch The Little Mermaid with them. I thought of him sitting with her in his lap as he read her stories with actions and different voices for the different characters and how she would squeal with delight when he put on his best troll voice. I thought of them falling asleep on a picnic blanket with her little head on his stomach and how with both of them being so fair she looked more like his than mine. I hadn’t just lost a lover; I had lost an entire future.
