She lazed in bed for a few extra minutes and forced herself to get up and take George and Emily downstairs. She plopped them into the playpen and let them play and watch a Baby Shakespeare DVD. She turned on the coffeepot and got out three bento style Tupperware containers and robotically made the big kids' lunches. Three pb&js, goldfish, an Oreo cookie and chopped up strawberries. She wrote only two notes on napkins since Hayes had requested Heather not write him a note anymore because it wasn't cool when you were in seventh grade to get notes from your mom.
Peter walked down just as Heather had finished the lunches. He greeted her with a kiss on her forehead and grabbed her around the waist giving her goosebumps all over. At least she knew she loved this man.
"Baby, what is it?" She knew her furrowed brow gave her away.
"It's nothing. Just the monotony of the morning. And for some reason, it's worse today than other days."
"What can I do to help?" Peter asked as his fingers tickled her back.
Heather couldn't think of anything. He did a thousand times more than most dads because he worked from home. He helped feed the kids and get them off to school. He took care of the twins and manipulated his writing schedule to give Heather lots of breaks. He doted on her every need. But right now nothing mattered. It was like Heather was hungry for something that she couldn't name and worried about something she couldn’t describe.
"Nothing. You do so much anyway. I'm just moody today."
“Want to talk about your dream?”
“More like nightmare. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Baby, I’m here for you for whatever you need.”
He kissed her and wrapped his arms around her, and she felt even guiltier for screaming Hank’s name in Peter’s bed.
Peter made the twins their breakfast while Heather got the other three up and going. She was mad at herself for feeling this way and that made it all worse.
How could a mother of five virtually perfect kids, married to the famous author Peter Adamson, living in this fabulous house without any financial worries, feel so blah? thought Heather. And blah was really the only way to describe how she felt.
Henry came downstairs with mismatched socks that went up to his knees and ate a frozen waffle, frozen. Skipping the battle of the mismatched socks was the only option for Heather.
“You’re going to break your teeth on that waffle, Henry,” she said not so gently.
“My teeth are strong, Mom,” he replied as he turned off Baby Shakespeare and turned on Sportscenter.
Hayes made his way down complaining that he needed some quiet to study for his Spanish test.
“Peter can help you. He knows Spanish,” said Heather.
“Of course he does, Mom,” he said with a little teenage snarky tone. “But I don’t want him to help. I want you to.”
“Dude, just let me help you. Your mom has her hands full,” said Peter ignoring the tone.
Hayes shrugged and threw his notebook on the table in front of Peter. Peter quizzed him and deemed him ready to pass the test. Hayes walked off with a roll of his eyes.
Gracie walked down and Heather got out the tangle spray to try taming the bird’s nest on the back of her head.
“Mom, I hate this,” Gracie started.
“That hurts, she continued.
“STOP!” she yelled.
"Gracie, you're almost in fifth grade. If you don't like this, you need to figure out how to do it yourself," said Heather in a tone that she would definitely regret after Gracie got on the bus.
Gracie didn't care about her appearance. She cared a little bit about clothes, but comfort was her big thing. Most of the time Heather was thrilled about that but not when she had to fight her to brush her hair or her teeth.
"Why don’t you get your running clothes on? Let’s take a run as soon as Jenny gets here. She can watch the twins for an hour before you make plans for tomorrow's reading," said Peter.
"I will in a minute." Heather replied, slightly annoyed at his bossy tone and halfway thinking she must look like a tub of lard if Peter was suggesting a run. But the rational half that sometimes poked its head through knew that Peter didn't think that and he was just trying to help her release some stress.
Five breakfasts served, three lunches made, three backpacks packed with necessary items and one pot of coffee later, Heather and Peter kissed the three big ones good bye and sent them off to their respective schools. She took Emily and Peter took George upstairs to get dressed. If the twins had been her first kids, she would have put them in coordinating outfits. But they were number four and five and clean was the only goal for Heather.
She threw on some exercise clothes and walked back into the kitchen. Peter had already brought the twins down. Emily was bouncing in the swing suspended from the doorway, and George was crashing into things as he moved around in the walker. The twins had every toy or contraption Peter could find. He loved baby toys and obsessed over the next great thing for each of them. Heather heard the squeak of the laundry room door and without looking up knew Jenny was walking in.
"Good morning, sunshine," she said to Heather with a sarcastic smile across her face.
"Morning. Do you mind if Peter and I go for a quick run?"
"Not at all." As Heather and Peter's assistant, babysitting was sometimes in the job description. And Heather knew Jenny loved having cuddle time with the twins and would probably prefer it to answering some of their correspondence.
Chapter 3
Peter knew it was going to be a tough day when Heather had woken up screaming during the night and then proceeded to pretend she was sleeping when Emily was crying. Waking up to his wife yelling Hank’s name and sobbing was hard for him to deal with. He knew she just needed time to heal, but somehow he was jealous that she was dreaming about her dead husband. He didn’t know who to turn to get Heather help with her nightmares. He hoped time would be her magic elixir.
His experience with women, other than the ones he had "loved and left," was limited to his sister, Janie. He was sure Janie was tired of getting texts from him looking for advice on what was normal behavior for a mom. He had texted her last week to see if it was normal to cut the box tops off of everything in the pantry. When she said yes, he went on to ask if it was normal to frantically head to Kroger for more when you realized you only had 28 box tops. Janie agreed that was normal too.
His quick entry into suburbia was not the easiest transition he had ever endured. Many days he held his breath waiting to see what would freak Heather out or what crazy request would come from the baseball team or the PTA. It seemed like each request was more inane than the one that preceded it. Wacky hair, certain color laces in shoes, decorated baked potatoes. The first time Peter had gone to the kids' school to drop something off had been a disaster. He had rung the bell, and the office had buzzed him in. As he headed down the hall towards the classrooms, he was accosted by a group of office workers yelling at him to stop. He felt like he was under arrest. They asked him where he was going and reprimanded him for not stopping in the office. The shirt he had on, I Heart Soccer Moms, did not win him any friends either. The story was relayed to Heather on Facebook before he even got home, and she made sure to show him the wall post when he walked through the door.
From Tanya: Heather Meadows Adamson what's with your husband not stopping in at the office before he went to the classrooms? He almost caused a lockdown. And nice shirt too - I Heart Soccer Moms? Your kids don't even play soccer.
Peter had hoped to avoid his every move being monitored when he moved to suburbia, but that was proving to be a challenge. Suburban moms were stealthy in their ability to know everything and pass information quickly.
Peter appeared all ready to run while Heather laced up her shoes. Each time they ran together, he couldn't help but think of the first time he met Heather and picked her up out of a pothole on the side of the road. It had been love at first fall. They had started running together every once in a while after she was cle
ared to exercise again after the twins' were born.
They grabbed Coco, headed down to the river from their backyard and ran along the path that connected to the county park system. Peter could usually tell that she didn't want him to be behind her by her constant insistence that he lead the way. Most likely she was afraid he would see her butt jiggle. But he wanted a view of his gorgeous wife to entice him on his run. But he also knew Heather found running on the trail tedious with all the obstacles, so before she asked, he ran in front of her setting the pace. When he stopped to let Coco go to the bathroom, Heather used the break to stretch her hamstrings, and Peter decided to broach Heather’s mood on the run.
"It's gorgeous out today," said Peter.
"Yep."
"We need to get you out of this rut," continued Peter.
"Am I really that awful? Am I as awful as Hayes?"
"No. He’ll come around. He’s just a moody teenager. I just want to see you smile more. I get that you’re still dealing with so much."
He knew that Heather had suffered major life changes and needed to be cut some slack. Losing Hank, finding Peter, getting pregnant with the twins, getting married, and publishing a book was enough to overwhelm most humans.
"I'm happy. I just get tired of the same old routine all the time. All this school stuff is bringing me down. Too many commitments and projects. I keep forgetting all of the little stuff like Henry has to wear a red shirt or Gracie needs $4.53 for a field trip. These silly little things monopolize my mind. At least it's almost the end. And as far as my dream goes…Hank was in my life for thirty-two years. I guess my mind forgets he’s gone."
Peter took note of what she said and planned to do something about it.
Maybe some time alone would help her work through some of the stress, he thought.
“I think the kids will survive if you forget about some of the little stuff.”
“I know. But they’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want them to suffer because of my inattention to something.”
“They’ve handled the move and me pretty well I think.”
“It wasn’t really hard to move into a house with a pool, river access and a pool table. Hayes still needs some time, but I suspect that’s him being more of a teenager than anything else.”
They continued their run and made their way back home. He could see her shoulders relax as they made their way along the river. Just releasing some endorphins must have helped her. When they were done with the run, Heather went up to shower while Peter and Jenny conversed and conspired about the reading in Georgetown the next day.
After her shower, Heather yelled downstairs to Jenny to come up into her closet to help pick out an outfit. Jenny appeared a moment later and looked at the choices.
“Everything feels a little tight,” said Heather. “It all shows off my muffin top.”
“You don’t even have a muffin top. What about this dress?”
“Makes my boobs look too big and shows off the skin underneath my arms.”
Jenny rolled her eyes and picked up a black pencil skirt and a bright green sleeveless blouse. “This?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Ok. I know you can figure this all out on your own. You really don’t need me to do this.”
“But I like having your help. You’re honest with me.”
The next step was what to read. Heather went through the old standard readings and decided she wasn't in the mood for any of them. She had practically memorized the chapter about the call she received telling her Hank had died.
"I don't know what I want to read. I'm tired of them all. To be honest, it gets hard to read about Hank after I’ve dreamt about him as well.”
"I can only imagine. You’re almost done with these readings, and that will probably help you move on.”
“And every time I look at my book I find something wrong with it.”
“Stop. I do not need to tell you that you are an amazing writer. You can go on Amazon and read your 207 reviews. Just stay away from the three one star reviews, I know you’ve memorized them anyway,” said Jenny winking at Heather. “But you need to find something to read for tomorrow so get to work. I'm out, boss, and I'm leaving it to you to figure out.”
"Don't leave yet. Just a few more minutes.”
"If I stay here any longer, I won't have time to run to Starbucks and get my green tea or to meditate before the kids get off the bus. And with Matt working so much lately, I’m on my own."
"Why do you need to meditate anyway?"
"Because you and your aura have zapped all of my good energy, and I need to have a few cleansing breaths to remove all that negativity. You should try meditating. It might relieve some of that stress you're carrying around and it might even help you with your nightmares."
Heather rolled her eyes, opened the book again and set to the task of figuring out what to read. She didn’t want to talk about her night anymore.
"Bye, I'll see you in the morning," she said as Jenny walked out the door.
Chapter 4
Peter stood near the back of the bookstore rocking the stroller back and forth, hoping to lull at least one of the twins back to sleep. Their publisher thought it helped attendance and book sales to have Peter and the twins present at Heather's readings. It seemed they were right as almost every woman wanted Peter's signature right after they got Heather's. Most people came with a stack of the books Peter had written as well as a copy of Heather's book. Some were even forward enough to skip right over Heather and go to Peter. They all oohed and ahhed over the twins and everyone left with something to talk about. Ten-month-old twins at a book reading were an adventure each and every time. After every reading, people would make comments on Heather or Peter's public Facebook pages like: Thanks for buying me a new book after George ripped mine or I have never seen a Maclaren stroller flip over like that.
In a way, Heather and Peter became some sort of literary freak show. And so many of the women just wanted to watch the very handsome Peter's reaction to Heather reading about the first love of her life, Hank. The fact that he was able to stand there time and time again was a true testament to his love for Heather, his slightly frantic wife.
This particular morning, they had driven up to Washington, D.C. before the three older kids had gone to school. Heather's mom was charged with getting them on the bus, and Peter and Heather had picked up Jenny. Jenny was truly Heather's right hand. Jenny had Heather's back. After Heather had gotten pregnant, Jenny had defended her honor to all the people who thought she was a gold digger instead of an accidental gold tripper. Jenny had been on the beach with Heather as she had waddled down the aisle to marry Peter pregnant with their twins. She brought Heather a milkshake spiked with Bailey's the morning after the twins were born. And lately, she had been walking through the aisles of Kroger and Target with one twin in her cart as Heather had the other in her cart. As far as Heather was concerned, one of the best things Peter had done was put Jenny on the payroll when his old assistant had outed Heather's pregnancy on Twitter. He knew they needed someone they could trust managing their lives. Jenny had been Heather’s trusted neighbor for years as they raised their kids together. And Jenny was a huge support to Heather when Hank died.
The excerpt that Heather settled on today was a doozy. One that really pulled at her heartstrings and was hard to read without tearing up. It turned out that marrying Peter and having his children did not erase the pain Heather felt. She tried hard to develop amnesia about all they had endured. She wanted loving Peter to be enough for all of them but some days it wasn't. The piece she read this morning was about the days right after Hank died.
The first time Hank and I kissed we were playing the game This or That in Kathy's basement. It was a quick kiss in the dark. No tongue but plenty of slobber. The next time we kissed was in front of our middle school. There was tongue and still plenty of slobber. I ran home and got out my Seventeen magazine and read about kisses with tongue. I didn't have a big siste
r to guide me in matters of the lips. I learned that we had French kissed and that good kisses didn't involve that much drool. But I knew I wanted more wet kisses because they also gave me butterflies.
The night after Hank died, I dreamt that he was kissing me. I felt the tenderness of his lips, the heat of his breath and the smell of his slightly sweaty body. I woke up to my mom's arms around me telling me everything was going to be ok. She came running in when I started screaming Hank's name.
I started throwing up every time I woke up. Sleep let me forget that Hank was dead. As soon as I remembered, I ran for the toilet. Hayes, Gracie and Henry littered our, now my, king sized bed. No one could sleep alone. Hell, no one could really sleep. My mom was in Hayes' room keeping her distance but ready to help when needed. The kids didn't want to go to school. They wanted to stay with me, and I let them. We cuddled on the couch and closed all the blinds. I tried to pretend that if I tuned out the world, time would stop and Hank would come back. But it didn't, and life and the kids forced me to keep going.
Heather saw Peter’s face when she was done with the reading. He had the same kind of pained look in his eyes that he did when she woke up with one of her nightmares. She knew he wanted to pick all of them up and whisk them away from the heartache. And for the most part he did, but their hearts still had holes in them. All the looking back that Heather did on her book tours wasn't good for her psyche. But it was part of the publicity she had agreed to, and he knew it might be responsible for some of the malaise that was lingering in her head. But Heather knew all the reminiscing reminded Peter he wasn't her first love.
After the signing, Jenny packed up the twins and handed Peter a bag.
"What's that for?" asked Heather.
"We're staying here tonight. You need a night away. Jenny's taking the twins and a car will drive us home tomorrow after you get a chance to take a breath."
The New Ever After (The New Ever After Series) Page 2
