I looked toward the changing rooms.
Gia was somewhere inside, probably still worrying about her legs.
“What’s the girl’s name?”
“Gia.”
I let the silence stretch.
Then I said, “My name is Iris.”
Emma waited.
“Gia is my daughter.”
Her expression changed instantly.
“Oh.”
“Yes. And I heard what you said to her before the race.”
“Iris, I think you’ve misunderstood.”
“You told my daughter her legs were embarrassing. You said boys would laugh at her. Then you blamed me for not teaching her to shave.”
“I was trying to prepare her. Girls can be cruel to each other.”
“And you decided to demonstrate?”
Emma looked toward the pool.
“I didn’t mean to upset her.”
“She was crying when I reached her. She told me I was a terrible mother because you said I’d failed her.”
“I never used those exact words.”
“But you’ve apparently made that judgment about me.”
Emma straightened.
“Jamie has always been the involved parent when it comes to swimming.”
“Because that’s the arrangement we made. Have you ever asked why?”
She said nothing.
“I want Gia to enjoy swimming without worrying about her body. And I don’t want you discussing me with her again.”
Emma began gathering her things.
“I think you should talk to Jamie.”
“I will. I’m also speaking with the program director.”
Her confidence disappeared.
“Please don’t make this into something bigger than it was.”
I looked at her.
“You made my daughter’s legs into something bigger than they were.”
Then I walked away.
Jamie was waiting near the entrance when Gia emerged from the changing room.
He congratulated her on finishing her first competition, but she barely responded.
I told him she’d had a difficult afternoon and suggested we talk after dinner.
He glanced at Gia.
“Did something happen?”
“Yes. But she needs some space right now.”
Gia asked to come home with me.
Jamie agreed, looking confused.
During the drive, she stared through the window.
“Are you mad at me?” she finally asked.
“Why would I be?”
“For what I said.”
“No, honey. I know you were hurt.”
She picked at the edge of her towel.
“Coach Emma probably thinks I’m stupid now.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t know about shaving.”
“You aren’t stupid. And shaving isn’t a requirement for being a girl or a swimmer.”
She didn’t answer.
That evening, after Gia went upstairs, I called Jamie.
“Did you tell Emma I don’t care about Gia?”
“What? Of course not.”
“She seems to think you’re raising Gia alone.”
Jamie sighed.
“Iris, she’s probably just confused because I’m always there.”
“She said you told her you handle everything.”
“Everything related to swimming. That’s true.”
“And when she started making assumptions about me, did you correct her?”
There was a pause.
“I don’t remember every conversation we’ve had.”
“She humiliated Gia today. She told her that I should’ve taught her to shave.”
“What?”
I described what I’d witnessed.
Jamie sounded genuinely shocked.
“Emma said that in front of other kids?”
“Yes. Gia was crying.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“I already did. But something else bothers me. Why does she believe I’m an absent mother?”
Jamie grew defensive.
“I can’t control what she thinks.”
“You can control what you tell her.”
“Iris, I’ve never called you a bad mother.”
“Then help me understand why she thinks you do everything while I do nothing.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Finally, Jamie said, “Can we discuss this tomorrow? In person?”
I agreed.
But the following morning brought another discovery.
Gia was eating breakfast when I asked whether Emma had ever mentioned me before.
She hesitated.
“Sometimes.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing really bad.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Gia pushed her cereal around.
“Once my swimsuit got too tight, and Emma asked why you hadn’t noticed. I told her Dad buys my swimming stuff.”
“What did she say?”
“She said moms should pay attention to those things too.”
I remembered Jamie ordering Gia’s swimming equipment himself.
I’d offered to help, but he’d assured me he had everything covered.
