“His parents do.” His meaning Camden, who I haven’t talked to in several years. But that doesn’t stop David from making crazy accusations anyway. “All I’m saying is when we move back there, you need to remember who you’re married to.”
“I’m well aware of who I’m married to. So when do we move?”
“Soon. With the promotion comes a relocation bonus. I found a place not too far from my parents and signed a six-month lease.” Of course, he only mentions his parents because he and my mom don’t exactly get along. When she was visiting us after Felix was born, he was rude to me in front of her, and she made a comment about it. Ever since then, he acts like she’s trying to break up our marriage when, the truth is, he’s doing a fine job of it himself. I already have one foot out the door. And now we’re moving home. He might’ve found a place near his parents, but my mom lives near them.
“When it’s up, I’ll figure out what I want to do,” he continues. “They’re opening up a new office and want me to oversee it. I’m hoping once it’s up and running, they’ll move us somewhere else.”
“I don’t want to keep moving,” I tell him. “Felix is about to start school. I want stability for him. You know how much I hated moving when I was younger. Moving to New York means being close to our families. I want to stay there.”
“Well, you don’t really have a say,” he snaps. “My job pays the bills, so I decide where we live, and New York is not where I want to live.”
And here we go again…
“And I’d gladly work, but you keep giving me shit about it.”
“Because you belong at home taking care of our son. How about being a little more appreciative that you’re able to be home? My mom’s been home since I was born, and she appreciates it. Stop acting spoiled.”
“I am appreciative of it,” I grind out. “I love being home with him, but once he starts school, I’d like to get a job. That doesn’t make me spoiled. I want to follow my passions and contribute just like you’re doing.”
“Your passions?” He scoffs. “Taking pictures is a hobby, not a job. Focus on our son, and I’ll focus on taking care of us.” He loosens his tie. “I need to get everything in order. We’re leaving next Friday.”
“Felix! Come and eat, please,” I yell over the sound of Justin Bieber. I can’t see him since he’s upstairs, but I can imagine him dancing his little butt off to the new music video that just came out. When he doesn’t respond, I add, “I made chocolate chip pancakes.”
“Coming!” he yells. The music comes to a halt, and then the distinct sound of his feet padding against the wood floor is heard. He flies down the stairs and plops into his chair, diving right into his breakfast.
“Are you excited about school?” I ask, my stomach in knots at the thought of my little boy starting preschool.
“I’m a little scared,” he admits. “Ms. Derby seems nice, but I don’t know anyone, and I miss my friends.”
“I get that, but the good thing is we’re close to Grandma and Nona and Papa. And you’ll make new friends, I promise.” School started a couple of days ago, but it’s still early enough that he won’t feel too much like the new kid.
I hate that Felix will miss the friends he’s made in Boston, but the truth is, I won’t miss the place at all. Everyone and everything I love is in New York, and had I not gotten pregnant our freshman year, I doubt I would’ve stayed in Boston as long as I did. Actually, I know I wouldn’t have.
Felix nods slowly, not completely convinced, and continues to eat his food. A few minutes later, he’s done, and after cleaning him up, we’re off to his new school, which is only a few blocks from where we live. It’s September in New York, and still nice out, in the low seventies. Unfortunately, that won’t last long, and snow will soon be blanketing the ground.
After snapping several photos of Felix next to his desk and then introducing himself to a couple of kids and being reassured by Ms. Derby that he’ll have a great day and she’ll see me later when I pick him up, I head back home to get my chores done. David likes a neat house and tends to bitch and moan when things are amiss, so I straighten up, run the vacuum, wash the dishes from breakfast, and throw a load of laundry into the washer.
When I glance at the time and see it’s only been an hour, I send a text to my mom to see what she’s up to.