Taxi: Sarah & Tom

Chapter 1: Sarah

The real effect is that I'm less involved in their lives and Tom and I are spending more time arguing or tiptoeing around each other and the issues around Jackson.

"He probably just thinks that they're paint or something, baby. He's 4, he's not targeting you, he's just a kid."

"I get that and I'm not saying that he needs to be grounded or anything, but he is targeting my stuff and you know it. I'm not angry at him, but nothing we're doing is getting better and there aren't any consequences when he does it."

"Sarah, please don't tell me how to handle this. You agreed with Michelle and I that we'll do the parenting. Besides, if we start trying to punish him he's just going to get more angry at you."

"Tom, I'm not asking you to be harsh with him but he's old enough to be parented with consequences. There are developmentally appropriate ways to talk with him about this but it feels like you aren't even interested in trying to."

"Because I'm not interested in punishing him for communicating with me. Michelle asked that we not continue to upset Jackson by pushing you onto him and I think that she's right."

"Since when am I pushing myself onto you or Jackson? I'm barely here as it is and I never see him one-on-one unless you need my help with school pick up. What am I supposed to do? Just continuously replace things until he maybe grows out of this phase? How is it fair that I'm useful when you or Michelle need help but my things don't need to be respected."

"This is Jackson's house, Sarah. He was here first and you don't even live here. He's allowed to have feelings about his family changing. We just need to keep the routine, and hope that you being constant but limited will help him adjust."

We're both getting huffy, but I just feel so defeated about this entire situation. Tom gets a text and pulls his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, then frowns.

"Look, Michelle and I are his parents and we've agreed on how to handle this. I know it sucks that Jackson messes with your stuff, but he's a kid and you're the adult in the situation. Just let him get this out of his system. I need to get Jackson ready for family dinner, we should be back around 9:30."

Tom comes to me to kiss my cheek, and then turns out and calls out to Jackson, letting him know what they're leaving for dinner in 5 minutes.

Tom and Michelle maintain a "family dinner" once a week at Michelle's house. The dinner includes Tom and his immediate family, Jackson, and then Michelle and her immediate family. They saw a counselor when they were getting divorced who told them that keeping activities as family-oriented as possible would be best for Jackson. When I asked about being invited to the dinner, Tom always seemed uncomfortable and would tell me that it's something that we could discuss down the road.

The idea of finally being included in family dinner seems farther away than ever before. I wipe up the pigments that have been shattered in the sink, and try to get the bathroom as clean as possible. The brushes are ruined, and I just throw the whole mess in the trash before heading downstairs to see the boys out.

Jackson has his shoes on and is kneeling at the coffee table with a coloring book that he got last Christmas.

"Hey, Jackson! Is that a tow truck? I like the green that you chose." I kneel down at the coffee table to get close to his eye level. I'm desperately trying to reach out and connect with Jackson like we used to, and I just wish I knew what I could do to make him comfortable with me again.

"I like green." He pauses to look up at me, but I don't see much of an expression when Jackson speaks to me.

"Me too. I think that yellow is my favorite color but maybe green is my second favorite color."

"I don't like yellow, it's ugly."

Jackson certainly doesn't mince words.

"Hey green bean, ready to go to Mom's house?" Tom comes up behind Jackson and then crouches next to him.

"Yes! I'm going to get my backpack." Jackson runs up and heads down the hallway to his room.

"Thanks for trying," Tom says as he holds his hand out to help me up from the floor.

"Not that it seems to be doing much. I just wish I knew the right thing to say. Am I imagining that he used to like me?" I lean into Tom and rest my head against his chest.

He starts rubbing my back and I take a moment to inhale, absorbing the comfort that I have always gotten from this man. He smells like the cologne that I bought him for our anniversary and his hand rubs gently on my back. Jackson told Michelle that he doesn't like it when Tom and I kiss or hug so we haven't been showing PDA around him anymore. We don't get as many moments like this as we used to, so I don't take it for granted anymore.

"No, he definitely did and he will again, we just have to listen and go at his pace. I hate to ask, baby, but can you start spending the night at your place when Jackson is home? I guess he told Michelle that he never gets to see me anymore."

I hate that he's telling me this during what I thought was a sweet moment to reconnect after fussing at each other earlier. I pull back a look at his eyes for a moment. He seems tired, and the tightness around his mouth is a sure sign that he's not enjoying this either.

I fully separate my body from his and nod my head, "Yeah, I think it's probably best. I can't afford to regularly replace expensive palettes so it'll be good for my budget." I try to make the last bit a joke, but we both know that nothing about this is funny. We're drifting, with no solid land in sight.

"Daddy I want to go now," one more smile for me and then Tom turns around to face Jackson.

"Alright green bean, let's go see mom."

Jackson gestures to Tom to come down to his level and looks at me before cupping his hand over his dad's ear and whispering a secret. I turn around and start to head back to Tom's room to pack my things, but not before hearing something that causes a sharp pain in my chest.

"Don't worry bud, she won't be here when we get home." 

No, I certainly will not be here when they do. I hear the door shut while I'm packing and it feels symbolic. I do a thorough walkthrough, grabbing all of the little things that I would usually leave here. I started spending 3 or 4 nights a week here but I can see that won't be happening anymore, and I don't trust Tom to keep my things safe from little hands.

How much longer can I keep doing this? I know that I'm not Jackson's mom, and I don't want to be, but I want a family and I want a partner who is willing to work to make that happen. Progress with Jackson has stalled and when I talk to Tom about it I get placation at best or a brush-off at worst. What was Tom telling me that Jackson is the kid and I'm the adult? That implies that he thinks I'm being petty or immature and he doesn't need to keep reminding me that I'm not a parent. I have never, never tried to parent Jackson or judged the way that Michelle and Tom choose to raise him. Asking that my things be respected isn't immature and I am so tired of being used when one of them needs an errand or ride for Jackson because they both know that I'm desperate for any connection with him that I can get.

Taking my toothbrush, bobbi pins, tampon stash, and nighttime water bottle feels like a good start to being the one who respects my own things and space. I don't need to beg for scraps, and if things don't change I will need to come to terms with the fact that this family doesn't seem interested in adding one more.

When I'm in the car, I realize that it's too early for me to be moping at home. If I won't be able to spend the evening with Tom and Jackson, I can still make the best of it. At a stop light I pull open one of my group chats and tell them that I'm joining them for the night out that I had declined earlier.

I head home and sit in my vanity, realizing that it's been too long since I did something just for me. I take extra time with my hair and make-up, which has always been a hobby of mine. A smokey blue eye, dewy skin, and plump lips are framed by the blowout that I just gave my elbow length light red hair.

I have a dress that I was saving for a date with Tom, but it's been so long since we've been on that I realize I'm better off using it while I have the chance. My friends show up to pre-game, since my apartment is closest to the bars that we like. I'm carefree, I know that I look incredible, and I am delighted to have a fun evening with people who love me ahead of me.