“Can you ask Dad to come say goodnight?” he pleads.
I nod my head and turn out his side lamp as I leave his room. I dread having to talk to Mike. He’s brushing his teeth in the bathroom. “Kale wants you to say goodnight.”
I turn to go and hear him ask, “Did he take a shower already?”
“No, he’s too tired. One day won’t hurt him.”
“That’s gross, Everly. Maybe you’re okay with our kids being stinky and doing their homework for them, but I’m not. Is this how nights go when I’m not around? The kids just do as they please and then go to school with greasy hair?”
I stare at him and seriously want to charge him and punch him in the face. I settle on, “Screw you, asshole!” and huff loudly down the stairs.
Fuck him and his words. I do the best I can. I wasn’t giving him the answers. I was trying to teach him. Well, maybe I told him the last one. I know I should have made him do it, but he was so tired. And I’m so tired. Maybe I should have let him fail the assignment, but I want him to do well in school. Should I have made him take a quick shower? Will he smell tomorrow? Will people say, “There’s that Haley kid. His mom does his homework for him and she doesn’t even care that his shirts are worn and he smells. Someone should call child welfare on that woman.”
I feel a tear slip over my lashes. I try. I try to be a good mom. Am I failing them? Is Mike right? Am I a lousy mother? Would they be better off if I wasn’t around to yell so much?
“Dad… you coming?” he bellows from his room.
“On my way. Don’t worry. Daddy will take care of you.”
Motherfucker. He’s never home, and the one day he is he becomes the hero. How dare he put me down in front of Kale! I know I yell. I know I lose my temper and I shouldn’t. I suck at being a mom. I yell too much. I’m not good at this parenting stuff. They deserve a better mom than me. I don’t deserve anything I have.
I begin to sob. It’s my ugly, I’m-tired-and-feel-worthless cry. It’s been happening more and more frequently lately. I stumble over to the couch, fully aware that I left the lunch stuff out and Roscoe still needs to be fed, but I need a moment.
That ache in my chest returns and it consumes me. I know I’m feeling sorry for myself, but it hurts and I need to cry. I want my mom. She was always so patient. As I think of her, I imagine Mike and her shaking their heads at me. She’d be so disappointed in me. I’m nowhere near the mother she was.
As the thoughts permeate my brain, I cry harder. I gasp and stumble for breath as snot drips down my nose. I’m not a pretty crier. Shit, I’m not pretty at all. Maybe that’s why my husband doesn’t love me. I’m not good enough for him, for my kids, or for anyone.
I hear him on the stairs and I leap up quickly, running into the bathroom to blow my nose. He approaches the bathroom door and I slam it shut, holding a tissue to my face.
“Are you crying?” he asks.
“No,” I lie.
He seems to stand there for a moment before I hear him walk away. I hear the fridge open forcibly and a second later, a pop from the tab on a soda. I stay still for a few minutes.
“You left the lunchmeat out.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I know,” I shout back. I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. My eyes are red and my face is puffy. I vow to myself that tomorrow I will be better at everything. Tomorrow is a better, brighter place to be.
I FEEL A small push on my shoulder and strain my eyes to open them. It’s dark, and I’m asleep on the couch. I blink several times to focus and see Mike sitting on the edge next to me.
“Hey,” he says.
I jolt upright and attempt to focus my sleepy eyes on the microwave clock. It’s 4:45 A.M. I turn back to him and see he’s fully dressed. “What’s wrong?” I ask in a panic.
“Nothing. I’m headed to work and I just wanted to say I’m sorry for last night. I was just really tired and I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. How about I try to come home early tonight? I’ll stop and pick up a pizza or something.”
I nod my head, both because I’m too tired to talk and because I’m in shock that he’s being kind.
“Okay,” he states with a small smile. He stands and grabs his keys and heads toward the garage door. After he’s gone, I try my best for the next hour to fall back asleep, but I can’t. I decide to get up and take a shower before I have to wake the kids. Even though I only slept four hours, there’s a glimmer of hope in this new day, and I’m relieved the last one is behind me.
“HOW ARE YOU in Walton’s again?” Gwen asks on the phone. “Weren’t you just there?”
“I live here. It’s my home away from home. Half the people who work here know me by name.”
Gwen laughs. “You can talk to anyone. I wish I could do that.”
“Oh please, Gwen. You don’t have to open your mouth. People like you the minute you smile. I, however, am very good at inserting my foot in mine.”
“Did you tell Mike you’re going back to school?”
I sigh. “It’s a tricky situation. I can’t just tell him. Somehow, I need to try to make it come across as his idea. I’ve been down this road before with him. He seemed like he might be in a good mood today, so maybe I’ll talk with him tonight.”
“Did you call the school? I think Mrs. Easton is still the head of the department. I bet she remembers you. I think you might even qualify for some type of financial aid.”
“Yeah, I called them,” I say as I press my cell to my shoulder and attempt to use both my hands to put two gallons of milk into my cart. I retrieve the slipping phone from my shoulder and stop in the dairy section. It’s hard to shop and talk on the phone at the same time. “I may have to meet with her to review my transcripts. I can’t believe she’s still the chair of the nursing school. I’d almost have to start over. I’d have to take double the course load and go for a two-year accelerated program. I’m scared to death but also really, really excited. I hope I can do this.”
“Whatever it is, you can do it!” Gwen replies confidently. “You’re smart and stronger than you know. It’s your turn to do something for you.”
I take a deep breath. “What type of hours do you think I’ll get in my first job out of school, say if I was able to get a job at St. Mary’s with you?”
“It’s hard to predict. I’m guessing they’d put you with someone for a while in training. Probably day shift, but most likely you’d switch to nights or afternoons.”
I cringe and sigh loudly into the phone. “Stop!” Gwen yells. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to talk yourself out of it.”
“No, I’m not!” But secretly, I’m wondering how it would work. I’d have to find someone to watch the kids. If I worked afternoons, I’d never see them. Then they’d never see either of us. Panic strikes my heart as I continue through the store, heading over to the medicine section. I suddenly need some ibuprofen. My head hurts. “Hey, can I call you later?” I ask Gwen.
“Yeah… call me after the kids get settled. I’m working nights this week to cover vacation time. Should be interesting.”
“K, bye.”
I slowly push my cart toward the medicine and remember I should pick up some dog food. As I walk past aisle after aisle, I people-watch. There’s a man in the toothpaste aisle with leopard print pants on. I giggle to myself. In the soap aisle, a mom is chasing a small girl as she grabs everything she can carry off the shelf and tosses it into the cart. Ugh. Poor lady. The little girl must be about three years old. I’m not sure who coined the term “terrible twos,” but they must have created it before their child hit age three. Three is far more challenging, if you ask me.
I make my way past the feminine aisle and stop dead in my tracks. I turn into the aisle and stare at the rows and rows of tampons, panty liners, and pads. I can feel my eyes rolling over the displays as I mentally try to remember when I had my last period. I’ve never been very regular. Sometimes my period even skips a month or so. Stress has a lot to do with it. I c
ount backwards in my head. I remember having cramps during Kale’s open house. When was that? I pull out my phone and flip through the calendar. One, two… months ago. Holy crap. I must be due to get it. I touch my stomach and realize I’ve had slight cramps and a headache this week. Maybe I’d better pick up some tampons just in case.
As I grab a box of regular and super plus and toss them into the cart, a blue box catches my eye. A pregnancy test. I stare at it from afar. I couldn’t possibly be pregnant, could I? I laugh to myself. Mike and I have had sex once in the last… well, shit… in the last eight months or so. There’s no way I’m pregnant. He used a condom too. I shake my head at myself as I leave the aisle. Something pulls me to glance back and I feel a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I shake it off. I haven’t eaten yet today. I’d better grab some lunch before I need to get the kids.
“MOM, I’M HUNGRY.”
“I know,” I respond as I check my phone. It’s seven thirty and no word from Mike. The kids usually eat dinner around six and they’re starving. I wonder if I should call him.
“I thought you said Daddy was coming home early?” Marlow asks.
“That’s what he said.” I lift my phone and hold my finger over his name. Just then Roscoe starts to bark and runs toward the laundry room. I breathe a sigh of relief. “See! He’s home!”
“Thank gosh!” Kale runs to the door, swinging it open. “Where’s the pizza?”
I feel sudden dread.
“Pizza?” Mike asks. “I thought I told your mom to order one.”
My head flips to the side and I stare at him as he stammers into the kitchen. “No…” I say. “This morning you said, ‘I’ll try to come home early and pick up a pizza for dinner.’”
Mike stares at me for a moment. “I guess I shouldn’t talk to you when you’re half asleep. I told you I’d come home early and you should order a pizza.”
“Mom!” Marlow shouts in frustration at my apparent error.
I mentally review the morning and I’m certain of what I heard. I think.
“You mean the kids haven’t eaten yet?” he asks with furrowed brows.
I allow him to make me feel incompetent. “No! I was waiting for you to bring home a pizza.”
Mike sighs as he looks down at Kale and Marlow. “Put on your shoes. I’ll take you to McDonalds.”
“Really?” Kale asks excitedly.
“Yes, really.”
Kale and Marlow scramble for their shoes. “Could you just bring home something for me?” I ask. “I need to pay a few bills.”
“Sure,” he responds.
“I think you should have them eat in the car. It’s late and they need to get ready for bed soon.”
“Yep,” Mike agrees.
After the kids leave, I pull out three bills and call in the payments. I’d love to have them on autopay, but I can’t always count on the money to pay them at the same time every month. The house is so quiet. I’m not used to being home alone at night. I go over the budget with a fine-tooth comb, trying to think of a way to explain to Mike how we’ll afford my schooling. I’ve already calculated what my first-year salary could be as a nurse, and I’m hoping he won’t be opposed to a loan until I can pay it off. I wring my hands and chew my nails. Why am I so nervous about talking to him about this? It’s stupid.
I hear the kids burst through the door with their food and milkshakes. Oh no. I bite my tongue. It’s way too late for sugar, but if I say anything now, I’ll just sound like I’m complaining.
Mike rubs his head as he drops his keys on the counter. “Here,” he says as he hands me a bag.
“Thank you! I’m starving.” I peek inside to see a chicken salad. I glance up at him as he’s removing his tie. Inside I wonder if he got me a salad because he thinks I need to lose weight. I turn and frown at the salad in private as I remove it. Maybe he just wants me to be healthy so I can live a long, healthy life. Ha!
“Mom, it’s Kale’s turn to take a shower first, right?”
“I went first last night!”
“No, I did!”
I rack my brain… “Kale, you didn’t shower last night. You’re up!”
“Aww…”
“Yeah, you stink,” Mike says as he plugs his nose.
“Ha-ha! Dad says you stink, Kale!”
“I do not! Why are you being so mean, Dad?”
Mike rolls his eyes. “Oh, Kale. Learn to take a joke. Go get your ass in the shower.”
“Yeah, Kale. Get your smelly ass in the shower,” Marlow responds.
“Marlow!” Mike and I both shout at the same time. Everyone laughs, although we shouldn’t.
“It’s really not funny, Marlow. Don’t say it again,” I tell her.
After both kids are showered and sleeping, I decide it’s as good a time as any to talk to Mike.
“So, I was thinking… both the kids are in school full time now.”
“Um hmm…” he responds without taking his eyes off his phone.
“We could probably use some extra money…” No response. “Right?” I ask.
“Um hmm…”
I stare at him for a moment before I begin to chew on my nails again. Apparently my silence makes him glance up.
“What’s up, Everly?” he questions.
I take a deep breath and sit next to him on the couch. “What would you think if I finished my classes?”
“This again,” he states with hesitation.
“I looked into it. I can take a double load. I can do my clinicals at St. Mary’s and hopefully get a job there. If I work really hard, I could be a practicing nurse within a little over two years.”
“Who’d take care of the kids while you’re studying and working?” he asks.
“I spoke to your mom and Grandma Kay, and they both said they’d help out when needed.”
“So you’re going to expect my mom and your grandmother to wash our clothes and do the shopping?”
“No! I could still do it. I think.”
“What about the money? I can’t afford to pay for your schooling.”
“I could get a small loan and pay it back.”
“That bill would be your responsibility. Not mine.”
I nod my head sheepishly.
Mike sighs heavily. “I don’t know if this is the right time.”
“Oh, come on! I was going to go back when Kale was in school.”
“Yeah, then Marlow came along.”
“I know… but now they’re both in school. Don’t you want me to take some of the financial pressure off of you?”
Mike laughs. “I forgot how good you are at getting what you want.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“If that’s what you want to do, then do it. I just don’t want to hear you whining about how tired you are keeping up with everything. I still have a job I have to do and I can’t be picking up your slack and working full time too.”
I cringe after he says “your slack,” but I’m relieved that he didn’t hate the idea. Somehow I’ll make it work.
Ten years earlier
“WEAR THE RED one,” I tell her. “Your boobs look great in it!”
“Are you checking out my rack?” Gwen asks with a chuckle.
“Yes, I am. I wish I had your boobs. I swear mine have already started to sag since I started breastfeeding Kale.”
“Stop! Your boobs are as perky as ever.”
“Oh I see… So you checked out my tits?”
Gwen huffs. “Yeah. I’m a closet lesbian. I see them almost every time you feed Kale, for Pete’s sake!”
“Hiding them while feeding him isn’t as easy as it looks.”
Gwen raises her hand. “I never said it was. I’ll be keeping my titties tightly locked away in their holster, thank you. I have no desire to ever have a small human sucking on them.”
“But a large male human is okay?”
“Yes, men with large dicks are welcome to suck away,” she says through a smile.
�
�So, how’s the sex?” I ask as I stumble into the bathroom and attempt to shove my fat ass into my black skirt.
“It’s good, I guess.”
I peek my head around the corner. “Good, you guess? Didn’t you agree to marry Alex like two months ago? I hope it’s better than good!”
“Meh,” she responds. “It’s fine.”
“What’s up? That doesn’t sound right.” I meander out of the bathroom like a stuffed sausage.
“You look beautiful!”
“Whatever. I’m a mom now. I don’t think it’s possible for me to look hot ever again. Now stop avoiding and answer the question.”
“No, really! You look great, Ev. I can see you’ve lost a ton of weight.”
“I’ve lost fifteen pounds. That hardly constitutes a ton when I gained fifty.”
“You still look amazing! You’ll get there. I know you will!”
“Why is the sex just meh?” I ask, attempting to refocus her on the question.
Gwen sighs. “I don’t know. You know I’m a commitment-phobe. I don’t know what possessed me to agree to marry him.”
“You love him… right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
I reach out and grab her hand, forcing her to look me in the eye. “Gwen, if you’re not sure, don’t do it!”
She eyes me skeptically. “Were you sure when you married Mike?”
“Yes!” I say without pause.
She stares at me as she shakes her head. “Oh, how soon they forget. Did having Kale make you lose so many brain cells that you don’t remember the panic attack before the wedding?”
There’s a knock on the door. “Hey, hotties. You almost ready? Mike and I are starving.” I hear Alex’s voice and watch Gwen sigh heavily. She’s not telling me something. I just know it.
“Hold your horses,” Gwen shouts. “All you do is put on pants and you’re done. We actually care about what we look like.”
“Aw, Gwen, you know I think you’re sexy in anything… or nothing.” Alex laughs.
Gwen rolls her eyes.
“Gwen?” I hush. “What’s gotten into you?”
“We’ll talk later,” she whispers back. “It’s date night and you haven’t been out on a date in… damn… how long has it been?”
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