“Fun?” I asked, stunned. “Are you serious? I get that our lives have been turned upside down with no warning. But I’m recovering from giving birth and trying to look after a baby. I need you to have my back right now whether it’s a good time or not.”
The baby started to fuss. It was feeding time. Again. And I’m sure he was picking up on the wealth of bad vibes filling the room. They said that babies could sense all sorts of things. I knew I could. I had a list of worries in my mind stretching from here to the moon. Like how every day since we’d gotten home from the hospital David had gotten quieter and quieter, and I’d felt more alone. Doubts seemed to pour into the widening gap between us. Maybe he’d have been happier being back on the road with the band. Maybe he blamed me for having to cancel the tour. Maybe being here with me and our son wasn’t what he wanted to do with his life. The anxiety was endless.
What I knew was, he no longer felt like my safe space, my touchstone. All of these emotions were a swirling storm inside of me I didn’t know how to deal with. And denial sure wasn’t working.
My eyes were open painfully wide. “I can’t do this with you right now.”
“What?”
“I love you. But I don’t have the energy to look after two children. Not when one is supposed to be a grown-ass male.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
I gathered up the baby and got to my feet, went into the nursery, and shut the door. Because anything else I said was just going to make matters worse. And what I said had been pretty damn straightforward. I’d never felt so fragile and alone in my life.
“You’re my favorite male right now in the whole wide world,” I told my son and kissed his head. “Hands down. The clear winner.”
Everything would be fine. One way or another. We’d weather this storm just like we’d weathered the rest. I hoped.
* * * *
The flowers arrived about an hour later. I didn’t know where David had gone, but I was glad for the breathing room. And for the sweet scent of peony roses. The baby was fast asleep, and my stress levels were easing back to a more normal level. At least, they were until I opened the card attached to the vase.
I may have behaved inappropriately last night. Love, Mal.
I stared at the gift in surprise. “Huh.”
Not from my husband. Okay. A little disappointing, but still nice to receive. I hadn’t received flowers since Paris. Damn, that had been a good night. A baby-making night, most likely, given the timing. Now David and I were fighting, and everything was bleh. Though my son was healthy and happy, and that was great. I just wish my husband and I could say the same. About being happy. We were healthy enough, give or take his hangover.
Maybe I should try him on his cell. And say what? We fought a lot in our first year of marriage, but then things calmed down. All of the boundaries had been set. Expectations established, and so on. Guess we needed to go through that again, as a family this time. As new parents.
A knock on the door had me placing the peonies on the table.
“Ma’am,” said Harry the doorman. He held two more vases of flowers, one in each arm. Roses and wildflowers. One bouquet was in a crystal vase, the other was in a rustic wooden box. “More arrived when I went back down. Shall I carry them in for you? They’re a little heavy.”
“Thank you. That would be great.” I got out of the man’s way as he placed them alongside the first bouquet. This was…unexpected. And I couldn’t help the little light in my heart that hoped they were from David this time.
Harry left, and I opened up the next card.
No really. It was my bad. Don’t blame yourself. Love, Mal.
I set the card aside and looked to heaven. Malcolm was apparently on a roll. An apologetic one, but still. “Give me strength. I wasn’t blaming myself, you fool.”
Then I picked up the third, and hopefully last, card. Though getting flowers was kind of great.
Oh, fine. I forgive you. Let’s forget it ever happened. Love, Mal.
I laughed and shook my head. Tiredness makes you receptive to the silliest of humor. It’s the truth. And this was exactly how the drummer got away with being crazy all the damn time. He was charming despite everything.
Still no sign of or word from David. Which sucked. But I hadn’t been in the wrong, and he needed to get with the program. And, oh man. I just wanted everything to be okay. To get everything back under control. Life without a plan was not smooth sailing.