Colleen chuckles. “When Miles found out I was pregnant, he talked about doing a lot more than cockblocking you. Oh, and my sister referred to you as a tall drink of sexy male a few minutes ago.”
Colleen looks down at the text from her sister when her phone pings, then smirks. Another chime, her brother’s text, and she’s holding back hysteria.
“Don’t tell me, please. Let me just enjoy this last time. Come on, we’ll meet Olivia on the street.”
“Good idea. Miles will be here tonight and Georgia tomorrow. Miles might have mentioned something about you, a shovel, and that nice shady spot in the backyard.”
“At least I’ll die with a smile on my face.”
17
1996
Falls Village, Maine
“I don’t know how to make her hair not stick out on the side.” Colleen cried into her phone.
Georgia, at college, couldn’t see her niece, but that famous cowlick she’d had since birth was well known. “Just wet it with your spit like mom did to us.”
Colleen growled as Taylor, her first day of preschool jitters getting the best of her, said, “I hate my stupid curly hair. Why don’t I have your hair?”
Colleen was stopped in her tracks and she stared at her daughter. At three, Taylor was smart, but she wasn’t that beyond her years and Colleen forced herself to only answer the actual question she’d asked, not read any more into it than what was on the surface. “Because if you had my hair, I’d be bald.”
That had the preschooler laughing. “Oh, Mommy, you’re so silly.”
Georgia sighed on the line. “Coll, I gotta run, I’ve got class. Hey, Tay…have fun today. Tell Mommy to call Auntie and tell her all about your first day of school later.”
“Okay, bye, Auntie, I’ve gotta run, too. I’ve got class.”
Colleen smiled and did her best in taming her daughter’s wild mane, her hair with its small corkscrew-like curl pattern was much different to manage than Colleen’s straight locks. Taylor’s tight ringlets were finer and lighter in weight, but her curls were dense and unmanageable.
Colleen ended up going with a headband for the first day of school. It covered and held down that one unruly curl.
After the hair dilemma was won, she battled with her daughter over breakfast. She sighed to herself that this was what her life had become. Arguing with a three-year-old while the rest of her friends were returning to their college campus and starting another semester of classes.
“I don’t want eggs,” Taylor whined. “They’re gross. Why can’t I have soup?”
Colleen huffed. This was an ongoing debate between them, and it was only a matter of time before Dorothy came into the kitchen and complicated things further.
And right on cue, “Grandma!” Taylor screeched. “Can you make me hotdogs?”
Colleen threw her hands into the air and turned toward her mother. “I’m going to get myself dressed. She’s all yours. We need to leave in thirty minutes.”
Dorothy smiled at her granddaughter. “You’re just like your mother. They say grandchildren are payback. That couldn’t be any more accurate than in this case.”
“Mommy paid for me in the store? Is that why I don’t look like any of you?”
Dorothy caught her breath. Taylor had started asking questions like that more often lately and she could only imagine how much worse it was going to get once she started school today.
Colleen and Dorothy did as much as they could around town, but with the saltwater taffy and fudge shop, they didn’t have time for all the library classes, mommy and me groups, or neighborhood playdates for Taylor. She’d been sheltered. That was all about to change in the next…Dorothy looked at her watch and cringed…twenty-three minutes.
“No time for hotdogs this morning, sweetheart. We’ll have them for lunch when you get back from school. Let’s do cereal real quick and tomorrow we can plan a little better.”
“Okay, Grandma. But can I buy my hotdogs from the take-out window?”
Dorothy laughed. Her own children used to play this game too. She’d have to cook in the kitchen then serve them their lunch through the window like it was a take-away dinner. She always felt like a short order chef with three kids and a husband that was the world’s pickiest eater, so it was fitting.
“Sure.” Dorothy laughed again as she poured milk into Taylor’s bowl. “Eat up quick. It’s almost time to go.”
“I’m so excited,” Taylor mumbled through a mouthful of cereal and milk. “I can’t wait for school!”
“Almost done?” Colleen asked as she reappeared in the kitchen wearing her baggy sweats and a long T-shirt. “Go brush your teeth then we can get on your shoes and make sure you have everything you need in your backpack.”
They had packed it last night with her change of clothes, even though Taylor insisted they weren’t necessary because she was a big girl and hadn’t had an accident since she was two. Colleen reminded her that she might get paint on her clothes from projects or at the easel and want to change. Taylor finally agreed that it was acceptable to provide the school with the items they required.
“One day, Mommy, I’m going to be the teacher at Lollipop Preschool, then I’ll make the rules. I’m not going to make kids bring more clothes if they already know how to use the potty.”
Colleen rolled her eyes and smiled, but then her eyes filled with tears as she and her mother walked Taylor to her first day of school.
On the way to the shop, Colleen full out cried because Taylor had raised a hand, waved goodbye and ran to the front of the line. She turned back one time to yell, “See you after school for hotdogs” then walked inside like she was in charge.
“You want her to be independent and make friends, Colleen. Why are you so upset?”
“I don’t know. I thought she’d cry over leaving me.”
Dorothy smiled as she started the pot of coffee for her customers. “The only one of you who cried to leave me was Miles.”
Colleen chuckled. “I can’t wait to use that against him.”
At the noontime pick up outside of school, Colleen noticed that Taylor wasn’t her animated self. She wasn’t running around with the other girls or riding bikes with the group of boys on the hardtop. Taylor was sitting alone on the bottom step of the climber with her hands fisted and holding her chin in them.
The teacher, Miss Nancy, approached Colleen with a huge smile. “Hey, Colleen. Thanks for the taffy and fudge, best first day of school present ever.”
“No problem. How was Taylor? She can be a handful.”
“She had a great day. She was line leader this morning, she loves the Rig-a-Jig toys at the table and sat beautifully at circle time.”
Colleen lifted her chin in her daughter’s direction. “She’s not looking so happy now.”
“I’m sure she’s exhausted. It can take these little ones a few weeks to get used to the routine.”
Colleen shrugged it off, figuring the veteran teacher knew what she was talking about. “Okay. Maybe she’ll take a nap. Wouldn’t that be something? I don’t think she’s taken one since she was one.”