by Brei Betzold
After that neither of us spoke to each other again. Things were even more strained between Jeron and his dad, and I hurt for my husband. I watched once when Jeron was sitting beside me, his father walked in and saw him then turned and walked out of the room. I felt Jeron flinch and I wanted to grab his father and ask why he came at all.
I was relieved when the party was finally over and the last straggler left. I was emotionally wiped, physically tired, and I wanted to just curl up with my husband. Only once everyone was gone, he kissed me on the cheek and fled as well. I understood his need to get away but it hurt that he left. I needed to hold him as much I needed him to hold me.
While I was lying in bed, Beth came in and curled up around me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“About?”
“My dad, he promised to be on his best behavior.”
I snorted. “If that’s his best, I’d hate to see his worst.”
She sighed sadly. “They’re so much alike, they’ve always been like this. My mom was able to keep the peace for the most part, but after they just constantly fought.”
“That must have sucked for you.”
She nodded. “When we moved here, I thought things would get better, but then dad took off and Jeron just changed.”
“Changed?”
“Yea, before Mom, he was different, not as cold or hard. He was popular, and happy, afterward he just shut down.” She sighed. “I haven’t seen that part of him in a long time, not until you. He’s different with you.”
“He’s different with you, too,” I murmured, “he loves us, everyone else he tolerates.”
She nodded and we lay there quietly, until I finally fell asleep. At some point Jeron came home since I found him asleep on the couch the following morning.
On September sixteenth, Sawyer Jeron Price entered the world, and my life changed. Sawyer was born five and a half weeks early, and he was absolutely perfect. The first time I heard him cry, I cried along with him. Months of stress and worry melted away with that sound. I held my husband’s hand as the NICU team looked him over seconds after his birth, both of us held our breaths waiting. I knew my doctor was talking to me, but nothing else mattered except Sawyer. Luck was on our side, and he was fine― tiny but fine.
The first time I held the tiny bundle was emotional, but the first time I saw him in Jeron’s arms, my heart beat for the first time. The bliss on Jeron’s face as he looked down at our son made me forget everything I’d gone through to bring him into this world. And when Jeron looked up at me, tears tracking down his face, I knew I would love this man forever.
We had decided on the name Sawyer a month before; it was Jeron’s mother’s maiden name. It seemed fitting to name our first child after her.
Sawyer and I spent four days in the hospital, and I was grateful for those four days. I realized that all the books in the world didn’t teach you what you needed to know about child care. The nurses though, they were amazing teachers. They were patient with me as they walked me through my first diaper change, helped me get Sawyer to latch the first, second and third time while breast feeding.
Jeron rarely left me during those four days, and he refused to let anyone who came to visit hold Sawyer. Well anyone except Beth; he didn’t stand a chance against Beth. I realized that between the two of them that Sawyer would rarely be put down. I even woke up from naps to find Jeron asleep sitting on the small couch beside me with Sawyer asleep on his chest.
Those first few days were magical, but by the time came, I was ready to go home. It was sink-or-swim time, so when it was time, we carefully strapped his tiny body into the car seat and hugged the nurse goodbye. I was rolled out the doors and we started a new chapter in our lives.
The six weeks I stayed home with Sawyer were the most exhausting, fulfilling time in my life. I loved having that time with him, and I was sad when it was time to go back to work. I’d lucked out with childcare though; one of our neighbors was a stay at home mom with two teenage sons. She agreed to watch Sawyer for me for next to nothing.
It was with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes that I left him for the first time. I spent most of my shift checking my phone, and showing off pictures. When it came time to leave, I sprinted out the door, and I’m surprised I wasn’t pulled over for speeding. My only goal was to get to my son; I needed to hold him.
I wasn’t the only person with that thought since when I turned the corner it was to find Jeron’s truck in the driveway. When I walked in the door, Jeron was cuddling Sawyer, cooing to him, while Sawyer fussed.
“There she is, buddy,” Jeron cooed. He looked up and grinned at me. “Someone’s hungry.”
I smiled and sat down beside Jeron. When Sawyer nuzzled in, I kissed my husband and we both sat back and watched our child. This had become our favorite past time, cuddling while watching Sawyer was fulfilling.
It was weeks later that the honeymoon phase ended. Sawyer had become colicky, and we were all on edge with the lack of sleep. His shrill cries tore my heart out; Jeron though found his way of coping by rarely being home.
He was gone more and more, often not coming back until the middle of the night. We fought about it constantly; between my lack of sleep, a baby that was constantly crying. I didn’t have the patience for his antics. The more we argued, the less he was home; it was a vicious cycle.
On a particularly bad night, where nothing I did helped ease Sawyer, Jeron stumbled in at four a.m. I was walking our son back and forth across the living room floor, the white noise machine playing loudly, and he sauntered in without a care in the world. Something in me snapped, I laid my screaming three-month-old son on the couch, picked up the bottle of formula that was on the coffee table and lobbed it at my husband’s head.
It hit his arm instead― I couldn’t throw for shit, and he jerked glaring at me.
“What the fuck, Trin?” he bellowed.
I reached down and grabbed the box of baby wipes next and threw them at him. The entire time Sawyer screamed behind me, but I couldn’t stop. I’d had enough. I didn’t sleep, I barely ate, and he went off to hang out with his friends, doing who knows what. We hadn’t had sex since before Sawyer was born, and a part of my brain kept whispering that I knew what he was doing. And it all just accumulated until I was crying, screaming, and throwing things at Jeron.
I saw Beth run out of her room; she stopped and quickly assessed what was happening. She shot her brother a dirty look, I got a look of pity, and then she scooped Sawyer up and was off back to her room.
I just kept screaming obscenities at him and searched for something else to throw. When he walked toward me and grabbed my hands, I lashed out, kicking at him. He spun me around and held me against his chest, but I just kept yelling, kicking, hitting, and biting. I’d finally broken, and I didn’t think I’d find all the pieces to fix myself.
“Trinity, stop,” he kept murmuring only I couldn’t. I didn’t, not until I was utterly exhausted and I slumped in his arms.
“You’re never here,” I sobbed, “he cries, and cries and you’re never here.” He pulled me closer into his chest and held me as I cried. “You go off every night and fuck your whores, and hang out with your friends while I get left with a screaming baby.”
“I’ve never cheated on you,” he said fiercely into my ear.
I scoffed. “Then what are you doing? You don’t touch me, you don’t look at me, as soon as I walk in you run out the fucking door.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over, but he never answered my question.
To this day, I don’t know if Jeron slept with other women while we were together. He swore he would never do that, but I don’t know if I ever believed him. I’d like to think he wasn’t lying to me, at least about that part. Only there were so many lies between us that I trust very little of what he said to me now.
After my outburst, things changed for a few weeks before slowly going back to Jeron being gone more than at home. Sawyer got over
his colic and was a happy, healthy little boy. The first night he slept all the way through, I cried out of sheer joy.
I was given the position of assistant manager of the book store, which was a blessing. I had more reliable hours, as well as a healthy pay bump which made life easier. I’d planned to go back to school for the spring semester, but I wasn’t able too. So when the summer semester came around, I signed up for two classes.
Before I realized it, my son was turning a year old, and I was wondering where that year had gone. His birthday party was held on a warm September day in the park. I watched as Jeron swung him in the baby swings, his cheeks were pink and he was giggling. I loved his baby laugh, the way his squishy cheeks dimpled; he was my sweet boy.
Both of their blue eyes sparkled in the sun as they played. Sawyer was a carbon copy of his father, except his blonde hair barely covered his head. I didn’t think my son would ever grow hair for a while. Then it slowly started to fill in, but still at a year old, he was nearly bald.
Things with Jeron were cyclic; we’d be fine for a while and then he’d disappear on us again. I didn’t know how to reach him, nor did I know what he was up to when he was gone. I was lost in our marriage, so I focused on Sawyer. He was the light at the end of the tunnel.
I snapped pictures as Sawyer ate his first piece of chocolate cake, his hand squishing into the cake and a look of utter distaste on his face. He didn’t appear to find his antics as humorous as those few who watched him. When he finally put his frosting filled fist to his mouth, he forgot about us and worked on licking his hands.
I snapped pictures as he quickly covered himself, his clothes, and anything he could get his hands on with cake and frosting. When he reached over and ran his hand across Jeron’s cheek, I lost it and started laughing. Jeron looked over at his son with a stunned face, then looked at me and down at his plate and grinned.
Next thing I knew, I’m running, screaming as Jeron chased me around the park with a handful of cake. When he tackled me and flipped me over, I begged for mercy. Jeron, laughing, showed no mercy and rubbed frosting and cake over my cheek and mouth. Then leaned down and kissed me gently. I loved those moments, when I got to see and spend time with my Jeron. They were becoming fewer and farther between.
I had stared up at my husband; we’d been married a year and so many things had changed in that time. “I love you,” I murmured, then kissed him back.
“Love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered against my lips.
After getting myself, Jeron and Sawyer cleaned up, we sat and watched as Sawyer attempted to open his presents. He didn’t have much interest in what was in the boxes, he just wanted the paper. We laughed at his antics and helped him open his gifts.
When the day was done and evening was setting in, Sawyer gave open mouth, slobbery kisses goodbye. We packed up and headed home. It was a perfect day, and one I doubt I’ll ever forget.
On my twenty-first birthday, Jeron and Beth drug me out of the house. They decided that I needed to celebrate correctly, which meant getting me drunk. I put up a token fight, but honestly the idea of getting out of the house was something I looked forward to. I was even happier because I was finally able to fit into my size ten jeans again. It took me a year, but I was finally back to the same size I was in when I got pregnant.
We went to a pool hall in town; I’d never been there before, but both Beth and Jeron had. We started the evening off with Shiner’s and shots. Then drifted over to an open pool table. I’d never played before, so I got a very hands-on lesson from my sexy husband.
Beth had brought her new boyfriend along, and I have to say that I liked him, a lot. He treated her like a princess; you could tell by the way he watched her that he adored her. I’d met Marcus once before on the night of their first date, and I’ve liked him ever since.
I only checked my phone every thirty minutes to see if the sitter had texted me. It was a great night; we were drinking, laughing and having fun. So, we were all a bit shocked when some girl I’d never seen before staggered over and laid a kiss on my husband.
Jeron reacted instantly, shoving the girl away and wiping his mouth. All I could do was stand there, my mouth gaping while a litany of insults flooded my inebriated mind. “What the fuck,” I breathed, looking away from Jeron toward Beth. She looked just as confused and pissed as I’m sure I did.
Jeron wrapped his hand around mine, I tried to pull it away but he wouldn’t let go, just held on tighter.
“What the fuck was that?” he bellowed.
The girl shrunk back from him, not that I could blame her.
He tugged my hand up. “This is my fucking wife,” he snarled.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “You … we, before and … I’m sorry.” Then she turned and ran the other direction.
I yanked my hand out of Jeron’s. “What was that?” I asked, seething.
Jeron took his backward ball cap off and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t have a fucking clue.” With the combination of his confused voice and the bewildered look on his face, I believed him.
I just shook my head. “I’m ready to go home.”
He nodded mutely and placed his hand on the small of my back; we said our goodnights to Beth and Marcus then headed home.
We drove home quietly, then went next door and collected our sleeping son. Once he was tucked safely away in his crib, I almost had a grip on what had happened tonight.
“Do you know her?” I asked quietly.
He didn’t look up at me but nodded.
“How?”
“Uh, she hangs out with the guys sometimes.”
“Ah,” I murmured.
“I’ve never touched her.” He looked up at me; his eyes pleading to believe him. “I haven’t touched anyone but you since we first got together.”
I climbed onto his lap and laid my head against his chest. “Okay” I whispered. He held me tightly before standing up with me in his arms. He took me to bed that night and showed me how much he loved me. It was amazing, we hadn’t had much of a physical relationship since Sawyer was born. I hoped that this was the first step for us to go back to the way things were.
Sawyer was almost a year and a half old when he began to walk. One thing that baffles me is why we get excited over our kids first words, first steps. It seems once they start talking and walking, they do nothing but cause us to go insane. I swear I spend more time either chasing him down or listening to him chatter on about Thomas the Tank Engine than I do anything else in my life. Though I’ve learned not to take anything for granted in this life, so I’ll take those moments with my son and treasure them.
Beth moved in with Marcus after Christmas; it was a definite change in our lives when she did. Once she was gone and I was living in the house with only Jeron and Sawyer, it showed me just how little Jeron was around. I worked the afternoon and evening shift, closing up the bookstore at night. Jeron got off work well before me and would go get Sawyer from the sitter. When I got home, he left shortly later.
I never knew when he planned to come home, and when I asked questions he wouldn’t give me a real answer. I got tired of hearing out with friends, but what was I going to do? I couldn’t exactly stop him, so instead of the fighting, which had slowly started to dissipate, we just ignored it. Or I ignored it, I’m not sure if Jeron felt the gulf that was between us or not. The more our marriage crumbled, the more I dedicated myself to being a good mom.
I heard rumors of course; people loved to gossip, especially when one of the parties was in range to listen. I heard stories of drugs, drunken fights, and him being seen with women that weren’t me. I did my best to block it out, but it wasn’t easy and I wasn’t always successful. Actually that’s a lie I was rarely successful, and each new story of debauchery tore at my heart.
On the rare nights Jeron stayed home with Sawyer and me, I pretended everything was fine. I didn’t want to fight with him every time I saw him. I didn’t have the energy for it, pretending was ea
sier.
Snuggling with him on the couch was still home, he was still home. No matter what whispered stories I heard, I knew Jeron loved me, I just wasn’t sure if he was still in love with me. And so I wouldn’t let myself think about it, instead I just laid against his chest forcing myself to forget.
Only I wasn’t able to forget when evidence was left lying in front of me. I’d run home after class to get ready for my shift at the book store. When I ran into the bathroom to grab something, I saw it lying there. Once when the stories had penetrated, I had gotten curious and I did some research, and in that research I found a picture of the item lying on my bathroom counter.
I could feel my face flush with anger, and I just stared at the glass pipe. I knew what it was for, I just wished I didn’t. My husband was smoking meth in the same bathroom where I bathed our son.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and called my work, I told them I wouldn’t be in that day. I know my voice sounded off since my manager asked if I was okay; I lied and said everything was fine. Once I hung up, I called Sawyer’s babysitter and let her know I’d be over to pick him up soon.
Once I had everything taken care of, I went to my closet and pulled out a large duffle bag and started cramming my things inside. When I was packed, I headed to Sawyer’s room; I knew I was forgetting things but I was working on auto pilot at this point. My warning to Jeron was running through my head. I’d warned him that I would leave and take Sawyer with me; apparently he didn’t believe me, or didn’t care.
I placed our bags in the trunk of my car and then called Beth to ask if Sawyer and I could come stay with her and Marcus. She of course wanted to know what was going on; I told her I’d explain everything later. She agreed to let us stay, and after I hung up with her I checked the time.
I went back into our home and did another quick walk-through to see if there was anything I needed, and when I didn’t find anything, I pulled out a tube of lipstick I never wore. I stared at the bathroom mirror for a moment and then wrote a message to Jeron.
