by Lexi Wilson
On Friday there was a dinner in the school’s cafeteria for the homeless and needy that the parents and students were all helping with. It was a wonderful thing to do, and it warmed my heart to see how involved Hannah was getting with all the projects and how caring and thoughtful of a little heart she had, but having had to spend several hours every night with Brett was really messing with my head. He had been nothing but polite and gentlemanly to me, always doing what I asked and never overstaying his welcome. Even still, having him in the house again meant that his scent lingered everywhere. The familiarity of it filled my head with memories of our past and was wreaking havoc on my heart. My resolve to stand my guard and not fall under his spell again was slowly crumbling, and I needed something to build it back again.
I was glad that the week was coming to an end with this dinner, but there was also a twinge of sadness that I wouldn't see Brett every day. He had gained back the weight he had lost, and it was obvious he had started working out again as well. With his new hairstyle and beard, his clothes fitting perfectly over broad shoulders and muscled chest, there was a stirring of desire in me that I had not felt in a long time.
I blamed the pregnancy hormones and tried to push all thought of it out of my mind.
Which did not work.
I kept telling myself it was just because he was in the house, that Brett was still Brett, but even I had to admit to myself that Brett was not the same Brett and that he was obviously making a very concerted effort to be a better father. I had not heard any talk of him going to work, and I wondered if what he had said upon his return was true. Was he really staying home for good?
Despite all of that, I wanted to regain some distance between us to protect my heart and even though I had to see him one more night, at least Matthew would be there. Brett still thought that we were together and that he was the baby’s father, and I had no intentions of setting the record straight any time soon. I would rather he think whatever he wanted than to tell him the truth, even though Matthew and my parents both urged me to tell Brett the truth. The truth was not a path I was anywhere near ready to venture down with him.
I knew that at some point before the baby was born I had to tell Brett but now just wasn't that time. I might have been hurt by Brett and felt alone and left behind by him, but I knew I could not keep him from his baby when all was said and done. I was not that cruel or heartless. I just wanted to get through as much of this pregnancy on my own before I finally broke down and told him.
Hannah and I arrived at the school on Friday at the appointed time, and after dropping her off with her teacher, I headed to get my own work assignment. Since everyone had found out I was pregnant, they tried to give me jobs with the least amount of work, but I had insisted on being involved and a part of the team that would be helping to serve the meal.
As the crowds started to come in, we jumped right into serving. I was on stuffing duty and was really enjoying myself as I scooped out the food and talked to the people in line. They were all so grateful and kept thanking us. It gave me warm fuzzy feelings seeing everyone come together and give back and it was a great lesson for our kids to learn to give without expecting anything in return.
About halfway through food service, I noticed Brett assisting at the door and helping people get in line or find tables to sit at. Trailing after him everywhere he went was one of the mothers of a fourth grader I recognized. She was one of a few single moms at the school, and she wore a skin-tight sweater with a low-cut V, pants that looked painted on, and sky-high heels. She also attended our church. I tried not to pay attention to them and instead focused on the people in line, smiling and chatting with them, but my eyes kept straying back to Brett and Monica.
At one point she was laughing, her coquettish giggle ringing out clearly in the noise of the packed cafeteria. It made me want to stab myself in the eye. Her touch lingered on Brett’s arm, and he smiled warmly at her when he talked.
“Hey,” Matthew’s voice came from behind me quietly. He touched my arm. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I answered tightly.
“You sure? Because your knuckles are turning white from the death grip you have on that spoon.”
“I’m fine,” I repeated.
“Hey, Sarah?”
“Yes?” The music teacher looked up from her clipboard at Matthew.
“Do you have someone who can take over for Evie? I think she needs a break.”
“Oh, sure thing. Let me just go grab Joan.”
“Thanks, Sarah.” She nodded and hurried off, and Matthew pried the spoon I was holding from my hand. “I’ll do this until Joan comes over. Go sit down; I’ll be there in a minute.”
I just nodded and walked away and grabbed a glass of water before sitting down. I tried to focus on the water, but my eyes searched out Brett instead. Monica was still with him, and now she was practically glued to his side as she leaned in to speak to him, her breasts rubbing his arm. My vision went red, and anger seethed inside me. I should not be jealous or even protective of Brett, I don’t have the right to be anymore. But I was. I blamed the only thing I could with my irrational feelings: pregnancy hormones.
Matthew sat down beside me, and his eyes traveled to where I was looking. “I see Monica has settled on her next conquest,” he said quietly.
“Bitch,” I muttered under my breath.
Matthew’s eyes widened in shock. I never used curse words, so this was very out of character for me. “Well tell me how you really feel, Evie,” he finally said after a beat of silence.
“Sorry, that was rude of me.”
“So, you are jealous.”
“No.” I shot back quickly and louder than I meant. “No, I am not jealous,” I repeated in a whispered tone.
“It’s okay if you are. You and Brett were together for a really long time.”
“I'm not jealous,” I replied adamantly. “But I do want to punch her in the face.”
Matthew laughed. “Oh yeah, you are totally not jealous.”
“Shut up. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“She’s a total skank. Better?”
“Much.”
“Seriously, though, are you sure you’re good? You have murder in your eyes, and I’m not sure if it’s directed at Brett or Monica.”
“Monica,” I told him. “And I am good, I swear. It’s just hormones. It’ll pass. I have no claim to Brett, and he can do whatever he wants with his life.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s how you really feel.”
“It is. He’s not my husband, so he is free to see whomever he likes, just like I’m free to see whoever I want.”
“Oh, is that why you’re letting him think me and you are a thing, even though you aren’t playing in the same league I am?”
“I never told him we were together.”
“I know, that is the problem. You gotta tell him, Evie.”
“I know, and I will.”
“When?”
“Eventually.”
He shook his head sadly. “I know you think you know what you’re doing but it is okay to admit that you don’t. Maybe you should talk to Pastor Pat.”
“I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know where to start.”
“At the beginning is usually a good place.”
“I just have this irrational anger about some other woman flirting with him and him flirting back.”
“Okay, but from what I’ve seen, he hasn’t flirted with her. He’s just being polite.”
“She’s been rubbing all over him all night like a cat in heat.”
“Well, he isn’t giving her anything, despite her best intentions. Personally, I think he only has eyes for one woman, and she’s sitting here stewing in unnecessary anger and turmoil because she doesn’t want to face her feelings. But that’s just me.”
“You suck...but I love you.”
“Love you too, girl. I need to get back to work. Are you calm enough to serve stuffing without hulking out
?”
“Yeah, I think I’m good now.”
“Okay. Just ask Sarah for someone to cover you if you need to step out. You know no one will blink an eye since you’re all knocked up.”
I laughed. “Might as well take advantage of my situation, right?”
“Exactly,” he chuckled. He stood and then leaned down to kiss the top of my head. “Tomorrow I’m taking you to dinner and a show.”
“A show?”
“A drag show. It’ll be fun, and if I leave you alone, you’ll sit around your otherwise empty house and be consumed by sadness. I know it’s Brett’s first weekend with Hannah.”
“Yeah, that sounds nice. Thanks, Matthew.”
“No problem. If I don’t see you again tonight, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He waved before walking off, and I stood as well and made my way back to the serving line. Joan was happy to give me my spot back, and I went back to serving food. As the night wound down, a different crew of people came to clean up, so I wandered away from the food to see what Hannah was up to. I spotted her with some classmates who were crowded around the school librarian with a bunch of other kids listening to stories. I watched her for a minute before I saw Brett walk by and I headed in his direction.
“Hey,” I said to get his attention.
He turned to me with a bright smile on his face. “Hey, Evie. Wow, you look pretty,” he said.
I blushed. I felt jam-packed into the swing dress and leggings I was wearing and far from pretty. I certainly did not look anywhere near as good as Monica did with her trim, lithe body. “You don’t have to lie to me,” I said. “I’m huge.”
“You’re not huge; you’re pregnant. And I think you look spectacular.”
“How do you think Monica looks?” I spat out.
He looked at me with confusion. “That woman who was talking to me earlier?”
“Yes, that woman who followed you around all night thrusting her fake breasts all over you.”
Brett studied me for a beat. “Are you jealous, Evie?” he asked, his voice dropping.
“No!” I said in a tone that came out way more teenage girlish than I meant. “I am not jealous. You can do whatever you want with your, you know,” I gestured.
“I only want to do those things with you, Evie,” he said suggestively.
My face flushed, and my core tingled. There was a look Brett could give me that instantly made me wet and he just flashed it at me for the first time in ages. I did not want him to know how turned on I was, so I turned my back to him on a huff.
“That is disgusting, Brett.”
He chuckled and walked around in front of me. “I always did find you beautiful when you were mad. Guess some things will never change.”
“What time are you bringing Hannah home on Sunday?” I asked, needing to change the subject.
“What time would you like for me to bring her home? My parents were hoping to have a family dinner Sunday night around six.”
“Can you have her home around seven thirty? That will give us enough time to get a bath and then settle down for bed.”
“I think that sounds fine. I’ll plan on getting to our place at seven thirty.”
“My place,” I corrected.
“No, I got it right the first time,” he winked before sauntering away.
I wanted to stomp my feet and throw a tantrum, but instead, I breathed deeply and counted to ten. I had a long weekend home alone with my thoughts, and I could wait and throw all the tantrums I wanted in the privacy of my own home instead of at school with every person I knew watching. I hated that I would be without my daughter all weekend, but I would get through it. Brett needed to spend time with Hannah and Hannah deserved her father in her life. I just had to keep telling myself this was our new normal, and everything would be okay.
Because it would, right?
Chapter 19
Brett
I left the school with Hannah with a little extra pep to my step. I had noticed Evie and Matthew talking privately at one point during the evening, and I had seen him kiss her head affectionately and was myself incredibly jealous and pissed that someone other than me was touching her. It gave me a bit of a thrill when I realized that Evie was jealous as well, and not just a little bit.
Monica had latched onto me almost as soon as I had arrived. I remembered her vaguely from around town and that she was divorced twice with a son a few years older than Hannah. She had come up to me at first to say how glad everyone was that I had come home safe and that everyone had been praying for my safe return. Then she had mentioned having me over for a nice homecooked meal, that I must have missed those while I was gone, and I had known.
She had looked me up and down with obvious intent, and while it was sort of exciting to have a woman express an interest in me, I was not interested in her. But I also did not dissuade her, and she stayed by my side throughout the night and made excuses to touch me and let her fingers linger on my arm and giggled and carried on like I was the funniest man on the planet.
Which, by the way, I was not.
As the night had worn down, I politely excused myself and looked around for Hannah. I was ready to get home and start my weekend with her and didn’t want to lose another second of it. While I was looking for her, Evie found me instead. Her reaction to seeing another woman flirt with me was all the confirmation I needed that there was still a chance for us and I let her know that she was still on the forefront of my mind without taking her bait about Monica.
I could have.
I could have said how much I enjoyed having a woman show me so much attention, but it would have been a lie.
I could have said how much I liked her touch, but I didn’t. It wasn’t Monica’s hands I wanted on me.
It was Evie’s. It would always be Evie.
When I spotted Hannah in the reading group, I made my exit with carefully chosen words and a wink and left Evie staring after me. I waited a discreet distance from her when Hannah went to tell her goodbye and then walked outside with my little girl to my car.
We made the drive home and even though it was a short ride, Hannah was nearly asleep when we pulled into the driveway. I carried her inside and laid her down in bed, asleep by the time her head hit the pillow. I took off her shoes before pulling the covers over her and kissed her hair and pulled the door closed as I left the room. In my own room, I stripped down to my boxer briefs and climbed into bed, flipping on the tv. I surfed the channels aimlessly and found nothing that interested me, so I tossed the remote aside and grabbed my phone instead. I held it in my hands, finger hovering over my contacts before finally I clicked through to my messages and typed in a text to Evie
You up?
Her response came back nearly instantaneously.
Is Hannah okay? Is she sick? Is she hurt? What hospital are you at?
I smiled at her motherly instincts and typed my reply. She’s fine, Evie. She’s not hurt or sick, and we are not at the hospital. I just wanted to talk. I’m not tired.
Oh. So, what’s this about then?
Just wanted to chat, I replied.
Why text me? Don’t you have any friends you can talk to?
Ouch.
We’re exes, Brett.
But why can’t we be friends who are exes? I mean, we are co-parenting a daughter. Like it or not, our lives are entwined because of Hannah.
I know, she answered.
So, why can’t we talk? Are you busy? Do you have company?
Not that it is any of your business, but no, I do not have company. The baby is kicking up a storm, and I can’t sleep.
A twinge of jealousy ran through me. It should have been me going through this with her. Should have been my child she was carrying. Kicking, huh? I remember the first time I felt Hannah kick. It made it all so real.
Yeah, well, Hannah was never a ninja in training like this one. And it gives me terrible heartburn.
I’m sorry to hear that. So, this hasn’t been as ea
sy as when you were pregnant with Hannah?
Complete one-eighty. In addition to the heartburn, I still get morning sickness, and even the smell of peanut butter turns my stomach. She ended the sentence with a sad face emoji.
You love peanut butter.
I know! I haven’t tasted that glorious nectar of the gods in months.
