I dropped my phone on the kitchen island and tried to ignore the pang in my chest as I threw the remnants of Kayla's dinner. She hadn't finished her food before she ran off to her room.
Terrible mom.
"Shut the fuck up." I growled at my subconscious as I put the plates in the dishwasher. Being a single mother was exhausting, even Sara said she felt pity for me. I paused at Mikayla's door, would she want me to sleep beside her that night? My bed hadn't even been slept in in ages, I always slept in Kayla's. I shrugged and knocked twice before entering the dark room. I didn't have a choice, I couldn't possibly sleep alone.
"Baby." I stood at the door awkwardly, she had to give me permission to lie on her bed. My call however, was met with a loud silence so I tried again. "Baby, please talk to me." I switched on the light when I got the same response.
She was fast asleep with her pretty face peeking out of the big duvet. I approached her bed and slowly lowered myself on the bed. The whimper that fell out of her lips when I touched her broke my soul. She had cried herself to sleep.
You're such a horrible mother.
For once, I didn't contradict the accusation. A tear escaped from my left eye and I didn't bother to rub it away. I was way too tired to bother and within seconds, my right eye produced its own fountain. My sniffles filled the room and just like Mikayla had done earlier, I cried myself to sleep.
"Buenos días, mama."
Those were the words that woke me up. With my eyes still closed, I nodded and opened my arms. A small, familiar body filled the space and I wrapped my arms around it in a bear hug. Mikayla's little heart thumped against my chest and I counted about 30 thumps, then kissed the top of her head before releasing her. "Good morning, bebe." My morning voice was huskier than normal and I wasn't surprised. I had cried for a long time the previous night.
"Are we still going to church together?"
Her tentative tone made me open my eyes. She sounded like she still wasn't sure I'd take her, maybe aunt Lee would come knocking on the door any second to shatter her hope. "Of course, we are. I'll be taking you to church myself from today."
A small smile appeared on her angelic face. "Every Sunday?"
I pulled her into my arms again. "Of course. Every single Sunday."
"Gracias, mama." The fact that she had to thank me for something I was supposed to do made my eyes start to water again. Diego had always told me I'd make a perfect actress in a tragic play. I could cry on the slightest provocation.
"Go and take a shower. I'd cook something for you while you do that."
She shook her head and started to take off her clothes. "I take cereals on Sunday mornings." I nodded slowly at the new piece of information. I'd been wrong all along. Well not completely wrong, since she ate it as breakfast on Sundays only.
"Sweetheart, what are you wearing to church? I can iron it for you."
Her muffled answer from the bathroom told me she was brushing her teeth. "You can pick."
A pretty red dress caught my eye immediately I opened her wardrobe and I took that one. After ironing it for her, I went to take my own bath. I didn't want us to go late to church. The Catholic Church frowned seriously on lateness and I honestly wanted to receive communion when I got there. I hadn't taken it in at least a century and lateness could prevent me from taking it.
I wore a simple dress and caked myself up as quickly as possible before joining Kayla in the kitchen.
"Which cereal do you want to eat?"
"Honey nut cheerios."
I nodded and got the cereal box. "Is that your favorite one?"
"Yeah. Honey nut cheerios and Frosted flakes."
She filled her bowl with the ring shaped cereal and I handed her the milk carton. "I love Frosted flakes. My mother didn't let me take it though. She said it was too sweet and would give me toothache."
"So Granny didn't buy you Frosted flakes?" Kayla always called Diego's mother Nana and called mine Granny. That made perfect sense since my parents weren't Spanish.
"Nope. But my daddy always got it for me though."
Mikayla's eyes widened in surprise. "And Granny didn't know Gramps was getting it for you?" I shook my head and she laughed. "Gramps is way cool."
I nodded wistfully. "He was the coolest." I took her hand in mine and rubbed the back of it with my thumb. "And I know I've not been the coolest mom and I'm so sorry about that, honey. I'm really, deeply sorry, Mikayla. But I'm going to change, I swear." Her brown eyes lit with untamed excitement when I tilted her jaw upwards. "I might not be able to take you to school and I probably won't be able to pick you up from school either but I'll make sure I come back early enough to cook dinner for you everyday. And I'll stop working on the weekends. I'll take you to church on Sundays and take you to the park or a restaurant or wherever you want on Saturdays."
Her sudden hug caught me off guard and I staggered a few steps back but she still didn't let go. We stayed in that position for a couple seconds and she mumbled against my dress. "Thank you, mama."
Even though she couldn't see me at that moment, I nodded in response because I didn't trust my voice not to fail me. We broke apart and had to hurry to get to church. On the drive to church, she rambled about her church friends. I tried to take notes of their names but gave up after a few minutes.
"I can't wait for you to meet all of them, mama. Unlike in school, I have a lot of friends in church."
I quirked my phone in question. "What do you mean? Don't you have friends in school?"
She sighed in resignation. "Not anymore."
"Benny?"
Mikayla shook her head. "His father got a new job in another state."
"What about Abigail?"
My daughter scoffed in annoyance. "She's now friends with Nicole. There's no way we can be friends."
I nodded slowly. "Patricia? Y'all used to be so close."
She looked at me strangely. "Patricia died of cancer. Last year."
"What??!!" My outburst made Kayla flinch and I apologised. "So you really have no friends?"
She shook her head and murmured under her breath. "Not one that counts."
I wanted to question her for that statement but decided against it. Small steps. I reminded myself again and hummed quietly.
"Mama." I looked at Kayla as I parked the car in front of the chapel.
"¿Qué?"
"I love you."
A tear rolled down my face as I patted her curly mass of hair. "I love you too, sweetheart."
I went inside the chapel to meet Jesus with a smile on my face and my daughter's hand in my hand.