She spits back with pure venom. “Colin, you’re an ass. You know that, right?” Her eyes narrow to slits, and she draws back as if she’s a snake about to strike.
I lean forward about a foot from her face, locking her eyes with mine. “Because I’m not willing to let you take Ainsley away from me? I think that there are a lot of people who’d think that was pretty damn admirable. I didn’t have a child to not raise her. She’s just as much mine as she is yours.” Then I realize that I need to use Charlie’s tactic back on her. “How would you like it if I kept Ainsley away from you for months on end? I’d let you see her a weekend here or there, but, every time that you saw her, she had completely changed. You said goodbye to a child who was immobile, and the next time you saw her she was crawling. You missed out on her first movements, her first words, her first trip to see Santa, and no telling how many other firsts that you can’t even fathom. Then, the fucking cherry on top, is that she starts calling Jenny Mama.” I run my fingers through my matted waves of hair, seething with anger. “I know you, Caroline. I know that you would never stand for that shit, so I don’t know why you expect for me to roll over and be okay with it.”
There. I said it. I don’t break eye contact as I move back to the hot tub bench. I stare straight into her lavender eyes, making sure she sees just how deadly serious I am. She wants to talk, we’re talking. She just got my diatribe. Hope it tastes as bitter as it was to spit it out.
We don’t speak for a long time, and continue our second-grade staring contest.
Finally, I lean my head back on the cool brick and let the hot water boil me in my own misery. I really don’t know if there’s anything left to say at this point. We’re at an impasse, and I don’t see any possible way to resolve this.
But, of course, my girl always has something left in her bag of tricks. “I’m pregnant,” she says over the bubbling noise of the hot tub.
I sit up bolt straight, and my face twists into a look of panic and horror. “What did you say?” I feel like I just got hit by a truck. Pregnant? She can’t be pregnant. We can’t bring another child into this living nightmare.
“You heard me. I’m pregnant.” There’s no emotion in her voice or on her face. She’s a blank slate.
“How?”
“Well, you see, Colin, when a man is horny…” She’s being a sarcastic brat right now, and that just pisses me off.
I slap the water, and the sound shuts her up. “I fucking know how you got pregnant, but we weren’t trying,” I respond, sounding completely clueless. This can’t be happening. As usual, our timing is for shit.
“We weren’t doing anything to prevent it.” She shoots back at me, sitting up as straight as I am. We’re both preparing for battle. “We had so much trouble conceiving Ainsley that you didn’t want me to get back on the pill. We both knew that it was a possibility.”
“How far along?” I ask a little more calmly as I run my hand through my hair. I think, bald by forty.
“I don’t know. I took the test right before you came home.”
“Should you be in the hot tub?” I’m now feeling protective of my unborn child. The child that I’m not sure that I want.
“Relax, the water is ninety-nine degrees. We aren’t going to cook our baby,” she says in the demeaning Charlie tone that really pisses me off.
I slump in the water, and let time tick by. All my fight washes out, leaving me feeling like a limp noodle. I think about the eight lonely years without her. I picture my daughter’s chubby cheeks, and contemplate what life was like without her. No. I don’t want another child right now, but it’s too late for that. We’re going to be parents again, so we might as well get on the same page and determine how to make a life together work.
Just above a whisper, I ask, “What are we going to do?”
Every bit of my anger and hurt has been dissolved. The only thing left is resolve. Resolve to the do whatever is best for my family. I just hope that Charlie’s on the same page.
She moves across the hot tub right next to me with her body pressed up against my side. My every cell has missed her skin against my skin, and begs me to hold her. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and bring her even closer to me, inhaling the scent of her peppermint shampoo.
She leans up and kisses my cheek. I want more intimacy than that, but I know that I have to initiate it. I’ve pushed her away too many times.
“I haven’t got the foggiest clue what we’re going to do, but…” she says, taking my chin in her hand turning my head so I’m looking at her. “…I can tell you what we’re not going to do. We aren’t giving up on us. Remember what those eight years felt like? Never again, Colin.”