by Sarah Morgan
“Tired?” He cracked open one eye. “Tired is how I feel after a day at work when I’ve battled commuters, my boss and a bunch of fussy clients. This isn’t that. This is so much more. I don’t have a word for it, but I know ‘tired’ sure as hell doesn’t cover it.”
Beth took pity on him and removed his shoes. “Which part did you find tiring?”
“All of it.” His eyes closed again. “There’s the eating, of course. That’s exhausting, because they eat all the time. Three meals a day, and snacks. No downtime. I might as well have been running a restaurant.”
“The downtime is between the meals and the snacks.”
“No, that was the time I was preparing meals and snacks, or running out to buy something they wanted that I’d forgotten to buy. Mommy always has it.” He opened his eyes again. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard those words this week? Are you smiling? Is that a smug smile, Bethany McBride Butler?”
“Maybe a little.” It was good to know he finally had more of an idea of her life. “You missed me a bit?”
“No. I missed you a lot. And not just because I have no idea how to make eggy bread the way you do. Melly said it was gloopy, whatever that means, and Ruby said it tasted funny. When they said ‘eggy bread,’ I assumed the ingredients were eggs and bread, but apparently you put magic in there, too.”
“Did you use cinnamon?”
“No, I did not use cinnamon. Where, in the words eggy bread does cinnamon appear?”
“I add cinnamon and a touch of sugar, which helps crisp the edges and stops it being ‘gloopy.’” She sat down on the bed next to him. “So the eggy bread was an issue. Anything else?”
“I took the wrong color tights to ballet.”
“I told you to—”
“You told me to take pink, I know, but I couldn’t find pink in the drawer, so I took black, because it was that or be late, and you told me not to be late. I chose what I thought was the lesser of the two sins, but apparently Melly can’t dance in black. Something happens to her legs and she can’t move unless her legs are pink. It’s a medical mystery. And don’t even talk to me about getting two kids out of the apartment on time every morning. It’s a surprise to me that you don’t show up at school in your nightwear.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling? When I called, you immediately handed the phone to the girls. I thought you were so mad you didn’t want to talk to me.”
“The ten minutes when they were on the phone with you was the only time I could get things done. Also, you made it clear you wanted time to yourself and I didn’t want to disturb you.” He eyed her. “And there may have been pride involved. I didn’t want you to know I was incompetent.”
She couldn’t believe he’d handled it himself. “I expected you to call your mother the moment I walked out.”
“I almost did. I even picked up the phone. Then I realized that calling my mother was tantamount to admitting I couldn’t handle it. You told me I didn’t have a clue what your life was like, and that I didn’t spend any real time with my own daughters. That hurt. I wanted to prove that you were wrong, and that I could cope. Sure, I do Sunday mornings in the park, but I knew I could handle the other parts, too. I knew I wasn’t as bad a father as you seemed to think and I was ready to produce the evidence.”
Tension spread down her spine. “Jason—”
“Except that it turned out you were right.”
“I wasn’t right. You’re a wonderful father.”
“Because you make it easy for me to come in and experience the good parts. By the time I get home, you’ve fed and bathed the kids, and they’re in bed with their books and the apartment is tidy. How the hell do you do that by the way? It was a challenge to feed them three times a day, and two nights we gave up on baths. And the apartment looks like we’ve been robbed. I have never felt so inferior in my life.” He reached for her hand. “Which is my way of saying that the evidence proved you right and me wrong. What you do is not easy. I officially admit that it was an incredibly tactless and misinformed statement and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“As a matter of interest, what was the hardest part?”
“Being without you. Not because you turn our rampaging kids and our chaotic apartment into a family and a home, but because I missed having you to laugh with and talk to.” He tightened his grip. “You’re my best friend, Beth. I’m sorry for the things I said that night. I’m not surprised you walked out.”
“I’m sorry for the things I said, too.” She felt so relieved she wanted to cry. She still didn’t know what the solution to their problem was, but she felt more confident that they’d find one. They had to. “I’m sorry I walked out like that.”
“I’m not.” He rolled onto his side and tugged her down beside him. “It was what I needed. And the truth is I loved being with the girls. It was exhausting and terrifying, but I got to know things about them that I never knew before. How about you?” He stroked her hair away from her face. “Have you been having fun being creative again?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t ready to admit that she was finding Corinna exhausting with her endless demands and emotional blackmail. “It’s good to be using my brain again. Are you going to shower and change?”
“Yes, but for five minutes let me savor being able to spread out on the bed without Ruby poking me in the eye. That girl thinks she’s a starfish. I used to think our bed was satisfyingly large, but not anymore.”
Beth reared back. “Wait—you let Ruby sleep in the bed?”
“Not to begin with. To begin with, I got up every time she called for me, the way you do, but it turns out I’m not made of the same quality material as you, because I was worn down pretty quickly. When I was too tired to get up, she had to come to me, and I didn’t have the energy to dislodge her.”
“She was messing with you, Jason. Taking advantage.”
“Yeah, kids are like predators. They sense weakness and pounce.”
She sighed, anticipating the effort it would take her to unravel that particular indulgence. “That is a hard habit to break. You shouldn’t have let her stay there.”
“I know, but out of the two of us she has the stronger will.” He lifted his head and looked her in the eye. “It was survival.” His head thumped back again and she straightened.
“Get in that shower, Jason Butler, and then sleep. I’ll wake you in an hour.”
“Could you wake me in a week?”
“No. It’s Christmas and this is family time. Move yourself.”
Beth went back downstairs and cleared the kitchen. Through the window she could see the children taking turns to ride Socks round the field, with Posy leading him.
Taking advantage of a few minutes of quiet time, she typed up her ideas and sent them in an email to Corinna. At least the internet was working, that was something to be thankful for.
And she was happy with what she’d done. If nothing else, she’d proved to herself she was still capable of thinking about something other than raising children.
When the girls finally reappeared, they were pink cheeked and smiling.
Ruby bounced through the door, her hair wild from the wind, Bugsy apparently forgotten. “I want a pony, Mommy.”
Even Beth wasn’t weak willed enough to agree to that. “That’s not going to happen while we’re living in Manhattan.”
“Then I want to come and live here, near Grandma, and Grandpa and Aunty Posy, and then I can ride Socks every day.”
Beth took off Ruby’s coat and boots and left them in the boot room outside the kitchen. “Your hands are freezing! Come inside and warm up.”
Melly was shivering. “Please may we have hot chocolate?”
Melly, ever the princess, and ever well mannered.
“You may. Wash your hands and sit at the kitchen table. Hot chocolate coming up!” Beth looked at
Posy, who had just come in through the door, bringing with her a flurry of snowflakes. “Thank you. You’re a brilliant aunt.”
“It’s great to spend time with them. And now I need to get to the café before Duncan resigns. I’m already late. Will you be all right?”
Beth noticed that her sister seemed distracted. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I know you and Jason have things to catch up on.”
“It will be fine.”
“You could always ask Hannah to babysit.”
“She’s not going to want to do that.”
Posy knocked the snow off her boots. “Does she seem okay to you?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t she be? What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
Beth glanced toward the door. “I know she’s in her room, but that’s not abnormal.”
“No.” Posy eased her feet out of her boots. “I’m sure you’re right. Okay, then, girls, take good care of Bonnie for me and I will see you later. Get Mommy to bring you to the café and I will save two of the biggest slabs of chocolate cake you have ever seen.”
The girls cheered and Bonnie barked and wagged her tail.
Later, much later, after a day of hot chocolate, stories by the fire and a trip to Café Craft that left both children almost dizzy with excitement, Beth tried to settle the children down. They were bathed, fed, and she was hopeful of snatching a moment with Jason before dinner.
Force of habit made her clear the bathroom. She swept the bath of ducks and Ruby’s favorite squeaky alligator, put the towels on the heated rail to dry and closed the door.
She was about to walk back into the bedroom the girls shared when she heard Ruby’s voice.
“I don’t want Mommy to ever leave us again.”
Beth froze. Guilt thudded into her so hard it felt as if someone had kicked her in the chest.
She felt as if she was being torn in two. Who was it that said you couldn’t have it all? They’d been right. How did you tell a four-year-old you adored that she wasn’t enough? That her mother wanted more. And how was she going to focus on work if she was feeling guilty about the girls all the time?
She put her hand to her mouth. She needed to go into that room, smile like the mommy Ruby knew and reassure her. She couldn’t let her feelings show. Ideally she would have taken a minute to pull herself together, but there was no time for that. There was no way Jason would be able to handle a difficult question like that on his own.
And then she heard his voice.
“Sit down, Ruby.”
“Want Mommy.”
“Mommy is busy right now, and I need you to stop wriggling and listen to me. Remember what you’ve been learning this week at school? We talked about it. Listening. I need you to do that now.” He was calm, but firm, and Beth wasn’t the only one surprised by the strength of his tone.
Ruby was, too.
Through the crack in the door Beth saw her daughter sit down heavily on the floor, her mouth closed and her eyes wide as she waited.
“Good girl.” Jason joined her on the floor, folding his length into the small space between the bed and the wall. “You want Mommy to be there for you every minute of the day, and I understand that.”
Ruby’s curls bounced as she nodded, and Beth felt a rush of despair.
No one wanted her to do this. Her kids didn’t want it, and her husband didn’t want it.
She waited, braced for Jason to say he wanted her to be home, too.
“You know how Daddy goes to work in the morning?”
“You take your coat and your bag. You have important things to do. And you’re always talking on your phone.”
“Right. And when we get back to New York, Mommy is going to start working, like Daddy does.”
Ruby looked confused. “Why?”
“Because Mommy isn’t only good at looking after you, she’s good at a lot of other things. Mommy loves you very much, but there are things she wants to do, too. Things that are important to her.”
“We’re important.” Ruby’s voice was wobbly, but Jason’s was steady as a rock.
“You are. But a person can have more than one important thing in their lives. We’re a family, which means we don’t only think about ourselves, we think about the other people in that family.”
“Will she still play with me?”
“Of course she’ll play with you. She loves playing with you. She just might not play with you every minute of every day, that’s all. And you’re going to be spending longer at school with your friends.”
Ruby pondered on that. “But who will pick me up from school?”
“We’ll have to figure that out as we go along, but someone will, so you don’t need to worry about that. If Mommy isn’t there, then Nana Butler or I will be there.”
“You lost Bugsy.” Ruby’s tone suggested she considered him the least reliable of the available options.
“That’s true. I did lose Bugsy. And if this was a performance review, I’d hold up my hands and admit I made a mistake.”
“What’s a performance review?”
“It’s when someone gets feedback on how good they are at doing things. And when it comes to caring for you and Melly, I know there are things I could have done better.”
“Like not losing Bugsy.”
“Not losing Bugsy is right at the top of the list. Part of the problem is that your mommy is so good at things, that no matter how well I do it’s never going to be as good as her.”
Tears pricked Beth’s eyes.
“But here’s the thing.” Jason pulled Ruby onto his lap and wrapped his arms round her. “Whatever you do in life, whether it’s being a firefighter or an astronaut or a mommy, if you practice, you can get better at it. And that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to practice so next time you give me a performance review it’s a good one.”
Ruby thought about it. “You’re not as good at things as Mommy, but I still like you.”
There was a pause. “That’s good—” Jason’s voice was rough “—because I like you, too.”
Beth leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. The lump in her throat was so huge she wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak.
At what point was she going to admit that she wasn’t enjoying the work as much as she’d thought she would?
She’d wanted this so badly, but now she wasn’t sure if it was the right thing for her after all.
17
Suzanne
“Five days! I’ve been in bed for five days.” Suzanne swung her legs out of bed and then paused as the room spun.
“And you need to stay there for another day at least.” Stewart put a mug down on the nightstand. The tea was the color of oak, which meant he’d forgotten to take the tea bag out.
She took a cautious sip and tried not to choke. “Delicious, thank you.” She put it down again. “I’ll leave it to cool down.” And then she’d pour it down the sink when he wasn’t looking.
She hated feeling so helpless. Hated the fact that she didn’t have the energy to go downstairs and make her own tea.
It made her anxious to think about how much there was to do.
Stewart had been helping, but he didn’t do things the way she liked them done and doing them was part of the fun for her.
She’d planned on spoiling everyone. Mothering them. She’d been looking forward to family dinners and cozy evenings in front of the fire. Instead her evenings had been spent in isolation. She’d been reduced to waving to her grandchildren from the doorway so that she didn’t spread her germs.
The good news was that she’d definitely turned the corner. She no longer had a fever, she was finally sleeping again and she felt at least half-human.
“I’m going to get up today.”
“There’s no need. Posy and
I are on top of everything. We’re working through your list.” Stewart straightened the bed, somehow managing to leave the bedding more creased and rumpled than before he’d started. “Today is item nine. I’m making cranberry sauce.”
“You’ve never made cranberry sauce in your life.”
“Man against cranberry—how hard can it be?”
“Remember to use fresh orange juice.”
“Got it.”
She knew he wasn’t listening. “Oranges, Stewart.”
“I know what orange juice is! There’s a carton in the fridge. I bought it yesterday.”
“I squeeze real oranges.”
“You do?” Stewart eyed her. “No wonder you’re exhausted.”
She sighed. It was impossible to make him understand that the preparations for Christmas weren’t a chore to her, they were a pleasure. “How are the girls? Give me an update.”
“Everything is under control. I’m holding the fort.” Stewart flexed his muscles and winked at her. “I am superman. I can handle anything that comes my way.”
Suzanne studied him. “Your sweater is inside out.”
He reached behind his neck, felt the label and gave her a sheepish grin. “I can handle everything except dressing myself.”
He always made her laugh. Even when she’d been feeling like death, he’d made her laugh.
She loved him so much it hurt. There wasn’t a day when being with him didn’t lift her spirits.
“What’s happening with Beth? Did you get to the bottom of why she came home early?”
“Beth is fine.” He didn’t look at her and she studied his face, trying to work out what he was hiding.
“But you’re worried about her.”
“I’m not the worrying type.” He tidied up her knitting and smacked his fist into one of the cushions on the chair.
“Why are you punching the cushion?”
“I’m not punching, I’m plumping. You’re always plumping cushions.”
“You almost made a hole in it. If that was a living thing, you would have knocked it unconscious.” Not to mention the fact that she’d never seen him plump a cushion in all the years they’d been together. Usually he tossed them on the floor. “You’re worried, and so am I. I want to know what’s happening.”
