She said, “Mommy, do not trust Daddy,” as she gazed up at me with wide eyes a month after adopting Jennifer. As I started to wonder what secrets my husband might be keeping, her words kept repeating in my head.
I peered down at Jennifer’s petite face, observing her large, vigilant eyes and her bashful, unsure smile. Our daughter finally arrived after years of waiting, trying, and hoping.
Richard looked almost radiant. He was unable to take his eyes off her. He seemed to be attempting to commit every characteristic and expression to memory.
“Look at her, Marla,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “She’s just perfect.”
I gave him a soft smile, my hand resting on Jennifer’s shoulder. “She really is.”
We’d come such a long way to get here. It had been doctor’s appointments, long talks, and an endless string of paperwork. When we finally met Jennifer, something in me just… knew. She was only four, so little, and so quiet, but she already felt like ours.
It’s been a few weeks since we officially adopted Jen, and we decided it was time for a small family outing. Richard leaned down to her level, smiling warmly. “Hey. How about we go get some ice cream? Would you like that?”
Jennifer gave him a quick glance before turning to face me, seemingly anticipating my response. She offered the slightest nod and pressed herself closer to my side without immediately responding.
Richard laughed quietly, but there was a trace of apprehension in his voice. “All right, let us have ice cream. We will turn it into a unique treat.
Jennifer remained by my side as we left. With occasional glances back and a hopeful smile, Richard took the lead. I saw him try to calm her down and get her to come out. However, Jennifer’s hold on my hand became slightly tighter each time he posed a question, and she kept looking back at me.
When we got to the ice cream shop, Richard stepped up to the counter, ready to order for her. “How about chocolate? Or maybe strawberry?” he asked, his voice bright.
She looked at him, then looked at me again, her voice barely a whisper. “Vanilla, please.”
Richard seemed taken aback for just a second, then smiled. “Vanilla it is.”
As we sat down, I saw that Jennifer hardly looked at him, even though she seemed happy to let him place his order. Rather, she ate in silence, remaining near me. I pondered whether it was all too much for her as she observed Richard with a wary fascination and remained silent.
Later that evening, as I tucked Jennifer into bed, she clung to my arm a little longer than I expected.
“Mommy?” she whispered, her voice hesitant.
“Yes, sweetie?”
She looked away for a moment, then back up at me, eyes wide and serious. “Don’t trust Daddy.”
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I knelt beside her, brushing her hair back. “Why would you say that, honey?”
Her lips turned down sad little frown, but she shrugged. “He’s talking weird. Like he’s hiding something.”
I had to think before answering. I managed to keep my voice gentle. “Jennifer, Daddy loves you tremendously.” That’s all he does is trying to make you feel at home. You know that, right?”
She didn’t say anything, just curled up a little tighter under her blankets. I held her hand there and wondered where this was coming from. Could she just be nervous? Maybe it was harder for her to adjust than I thought. The coolness of her touched on me, bit by bit, and as I looked at this small serious face a very faint unease crept in.
When I finally left her room, I found Richard waiting by the door. “How’d she do?” he asked, his face hopeful.
“She’s asleep,” I replied softly, watching his expression.
“That’s good.” He seemed relieved, but I noticed how his smile wavered just a little. “I know it’s all new for her. For all of us. But I think we’ll be fine. Don’t you?”
I nodded, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of Jennifer’s words echoing in my mind.
I heard Richard’s voice drifting in from the living room next day, as I stirred the pasta on the stove. His tone was low, tense, and he was on the phone. His words floated into the kitchen as I paused, wiping my hands on a towel.
His voice was barely above a whisper as he said, “It’s been … harder than I expected.” “She’s… sharp. More than I thought she’d notice, Jennifer is noticing. She might tell Maria, I’m afraid.”
My heartbeat kicked up a notch at the thought of what I’d just heard. Jennifer might tell me? Tell me what? I tried to work it out of my mind, there must be an explanation, I told myself. My pulse pounded that much harder, but I listened.
‘It’s bring so hard to not’
der wraps,” Richard continued. “I don’t want Marla to find out… not until it’s ready.”
I gripped the countertop as I froze. What should I not have discovered? What on earth was he hiding from me? After straining to hear, his voice became softer, and I was unable to understand the remainder of what he was saying. After a few seconds, he hung up and made his way to the kitchen.
I turned back to the stove, my mind whirling. I stirred the pasta with more force than necessary, trying to act normal as Richard stepped in, looking pleased.
“Smells good in here,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.
With my hands still on the spoon, I mustered a smile. “Thank you. Nearing completion. My own voice sounded weird, and as his words replayed in my mind, I felt my smile waver: I am worried she might tell Marla. It is challenging to preserve secrets.
After we had tucked Jennifer in later that night, I was unable to contain myself any longer. I required clarification. Richard was looking through some papers in the living room when I discovered him. I sat down across from him and placed my hands together in my lap.
“Richard,” I began, my voice steadier than I felt, “I overheard you on the phone earlier.”
He raised an eyebrow and glanced up, surprise and something else passing over his face. He was clearly caught off guard when he said, ‘Oh?’ “What did you hear?”
I took my words carefully hesitating. You said that he might… Jennifer might tell me something.” It’s hard to get things ‘under wraps” and that too.” I looked him in the eye and my heart was pounding. “Tell me what you are hiding from me.”
He just stared at me — a combination of confusion and worry. At last, he understood, and his expression changed. Reaching for my hand he put his papers down and leaned forward.
“Marla,” he said gently, “I’m not hiding anything bad. I promise.” His grip on my hand was warm, reassuring, but it didn’t settle the knots in my stomach.
“Then what is it?” I whispered, barely able to meet his eyes. “What don’t you want Jennifer to tell me?”
Richard inhaled deeply, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. Since I was preparing a surprise for Jennifer’s birthday, I did not want you to know. With the assistance of my brother. Squeezing my hand, he appeared a little ashamed. “I wanted this first birthday with us to be a huge event.”
I blinked, not quite processing his words at first. “A surprise party?” I asked slowly, the tension in my chest easing just a bit.
He nodded. “I wanted it to be perfect for her. I thought we could show her how much we care. That she’s part of our family now.” He smiled, looking a little relieved. “I knew Jennifer might say something, and I was worried she’d ruin the surprise.”
I felt a strange pang of guilt but a wave of relief wash over me. I’d thought here I would be… I mean, I didn’t even know what I’d been thinking. I lowered my head, ‘Richard. I’m sorry.’” I just… ‘There was something wrong I thought’.
His thumb stokes my hand softly and he chuckles. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. I took all the planning on myself, you were so stressed out after the adoption process. Both of you are surprised!”
I nodded, hoped I could let go of the doubts that had taken hold of me. I said I think she just … protective. “She doesn’t know anything, she told me not to trust you…” I guess it just got to me.”
Richard gave a thoughtful nod. “She’s a sensitive kid. I think she’s still finding her way.” He looked at me, his expression earnest. “We’ll just have to make sure she feels safe and loved. All three of us.”
And the next morning, I sat watching Richard help Jennifer pick breakfast cereal, my heart livened a bit. He stared over at her and with so much patience, and although her eyes barely looked up at all, I could see them building trust.
I walked over there towards the table, my hand above Jennifer’s shoulder. Her eyes were calm and a small gap widened between her lips. Some unspoken worry had finally lifted, and she could sense the new peace between us, literally as if.