I stand up and walk around the living room, running my hand through my hair. In a much more resigned voice, I sigh. “If you can make it, then that’s great. If you can’t, or if you have to drive fast, don’t worry about it. There will be other games.”
She sniffs. “I miss you.”
I reply very quietly, “I miss you too. Kiss A for me.”
“I will.”
We both linger, not wanting to say goodbye. It makes me feel marginally better that she’s missing me also. Finally, I tell her, “Put Ainsley to bed and call me back. I just want to talk to you before I go to sleep.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
Then, I hear Brad in the background mumbling something. “What did Brad say?”
“He’s telling me that he has her bathed and in PJs. She’s ready for her night story and Mommy time.”
The words “Mommy time” open the gaping wound back up in my chest. I want to scream, “What about Daddy time?” Little girls need their daddies just as much as they need their mommies. It should be me that bathed her, and put her in her jammies.
I found a new book at the bookstore to share with Ainsley. It has a dog in it that looks like Pancho. There’s this battle raging in my head between being grateful that Charlie has Brad to help her out, and being insanely pissed that some other man is doing my job. I tell her bye before I say something that I’m going to seriously regret.
The images of Charlie, Brad, and my daughter, shopping and having lunch, pop to the forefront of my brain. The tabloid speculation is like a brush fire burning out of control that our marriage is over because Charlie is living with Brad in Houston. The pictures of Brad pushing Ainsley in her stroller through a park near Carmen’s home. Charlie and Brad having sushi together at a restaurant in Houston. Brad pushing Ainsley in a toddler swing in Charlie’s mom’s front yard.
I laugh ruefully at myself. I’m fucking jealous of Charlie’s gay assistant. He may not be fucking my wife, but he’s stepped in and taken up my jobs in every place but the bedroom. That’s bullshit. Ainsley has one father. Charlie has one husband. Brad needs to step back, and figure out his place.
My heart is attempting to beat its way out of my chest. Sweat starts pouring off of my forehead. It’s difficult for me to breathe. My dream, the one where Charlie tells me that I’m not good enough for her and Ainsley, floods my mind in crystal clarity.
“It’s coming true,” I say out loud. “My dream is coming true. The vines are carrying her away from me. Charlie is leaving me for Brad.”
I flop back against the couch, and stare at the ceiling. When that does nothing to calm me, I lean forward, putting my head in my hands, trying to take a breath. “Why does she even need me? She has her toys. Brad doesn’t have a mistress job. Brad is there to take care of every one of her needs. Brad is her protector. Brad is her partner. I’m just the motherfucker who brings home the paychecks.”
Here’s the best part. I’ve paid the asshole to take over my role. I handed him my daughter and my wife on a fucking silver platter.
I grip the arms of the sofa, willing my lungs to expand. The tightness is about to overtake me. Fuck Colin. Calm down.
I try to push the pain out of my heart and think good thoughts…
The day that Charlie and I got married.
The night she told me that we were pregnant.
Hell, seeing her on that elevator for the first time in eight years.
Our kiss in Clay’s brag room.
Dancing with her at the George Strait concert.
She loves you. She wants and misses you.
Slowly, slowly, I begin to take in air, and my heartbeat returns to a non-sprinting rhythm.
I fall back against the couch, and turn my head to stare at the first family picture that we took right after Ainsley was born. Charlie is dressed in a white blouse, and black pants. I’m wearing a vibrant blue shirt, and nice jeans. My gold Super Bowl ring gleams in the light.
We’re sitting on the fireplace hearth. She’s holding Ainsley, who is dressed in a long ivory gown, in her arms, and I have Pancho on my lap. Just a hint of his Dallas Cowboy’s dog collar is visible. We look so happy. Charlie has a contented smile, and her eyes are bright lavender. She’s wearing her infinity necklace, diamond earrings, wedding band, and past, present, future ring that I had given her about a year prior. Ainsley’s eyes are closed, and she looks to be dreaming of angels. Even Pancho appears to have a smile on his face. Our house was so calm and peaceful that day. Charlie is looking at the camera, but my eyes are cut to the side; I’m staring at my girls.
When the photographer showed us the proofs, Charlie immediately grabbed this picture and said, “That’s the one.”