Chapter 9 - Gigi says Uncle
For a month, Gigi called every dark-haired man in a restaurant:
“Uncle.”
Children at two do not understand no-contact orders.
She remembered Arthur.
Maybe positively.
That made me furious in an irrational way.
Dr. Marissa Cole, a child therapist specializing in early childhood, told me:
“She can have warm memories and still require protection.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
No.
Not yet.
I wanted her to forget him.
Forget the party.
Forget yellow ribbons.
Forget the slap.
But memory is not obedient.
Gigi reenacted the moment once with dolls.
One doll touched ribbon.
Another doll fell.
Then she said:
“No!”
Was that direct memory?
Imitation from adults talking?
Normal toddler play?
Nobody could know.
We stopped discussing the incident around her.
That was harder for Victoria.
She sent a birthday? not birthday. She sent a voice message through my father:
“Grandma loves you.”
I did not play it.
No direct contact while legal matters were unresolved.
Victoria accused me of:
“using Gigi as leverage.”
No.
Leverage would mean:
Do what I want and you get her.
I offered no transaction.
I simply said:
May you like
Not now.
A boundary can resemble leverage to people accustomed to access.
