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Though I’m resentful, I give my boy a tight squeeze, wishing I could be as sure as he is. I breathe him in before releasing my grip. “Get your butt behind that cake so you can blow out those candles. I’ve been waiting all day for a piece!”
He stands at attention and salutes. “Yes, ma’am.” Immediately, Gavin turns to me with an ‘oh fuck’ look on his face. I smile at him reassuringly. Even my own husband is afraid of me.
I position myself on the other side of the table so I can video.
I almost missed this.
Gavin pulls out a lighter. “Y’all ready?” he asks, but he looks at me to make sure I’m prepared. I give him a discreet nod, and he lights the candles. “On three…One…Two…Three!”
I’ve been working with Dr. Schmidt for this moment over the last few weeks and shock myself when I’m able to sing along. Noah’s smile is everything good in this world. For the first time in such a long time, I feel hopeful.
Then, it happens. A loud bang that sends me reeling, and instantly I’m screaming and on my ass, our camera tumbling to the deck. My body trembles. I can hardly breathe. I reach over the table and snatch my son in my arms. “Noah, are you okay?” I ask, running my hands over his face and chest.
“Shhhh, Mommy,” he coos. “It was just a balloon. Mikey popped it behind my head to scare me. It’s okay, Mommy. Deep breaths,” he whispers, echoing his father.
Humiliated, I hug my son for comfort and bury my face in his neck to apologize.
“No,” he insists. “Mikey did it.” Before I can stop him, Noah is charging after the little boy in question.
“Are you stupid or something? Why’d you do that? Huh? Why?” He shoves at his friend, and I’m so pathetic that all I can do is watch my husband pull my son away.
“Noah, stop it. He didn’t know. It’s okay.”
“No. It’s not okay. Mommy worked so hard for today and now look at her!” Every eye that wasn’t already trained on me, is now. “Our life is never gonna be normal!”
“Noah Walsh,” Gavin barks, “you need to apologize to your friend.”
I glance over to the little boy, who’s got the most bewildered look on his face. His mother is crouched behind him, whispering something in his ear, and I know it’s about me. The whispers are always about me. Mikey and Noah shake hands and make up, and then Mikey starts to move in my direction.
Oh, God.
“I’m sorry for scaring you,” the little boy says, his voice shaking and his lips trembling. “I was just trying to be funny.”
Deep breaths.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, honey,” I tell him, still trying to calm my nerves. “It’s okay.”
Careful to avoid prodding eyes, I cower away because I can’t handle another second.
“I’m so sorry,” I announce to a crowd full of friends and family. “I’m going to step inside for a bit. Please enjoy the party.”
Noah pipes up on my behalf to reassure me and the sea of concerned faces that surround us.
“It’s okay, Mommy,” Noah says, giving me a stoic face. “You just need a nap. Go to your closet.”
Gavin’s eyes find mine, and in them I see murder.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Katy
Later that night, Gavin and I are cleaning up after the party, and for the first time since I got home, I know the tables have turned. He’s avoiding me at all costs to keep his explosion within. I have zero defense and won’t bother coming up with one. My son has just exposed one of my secrets and inadvertently humiliated us both. The words ‘I’m sorry’ won’t matter to Gavin; they’ve lost their worth. He wants his wife back. He wants to be able to talk to her without getting his head bitten off. He wants her to put dinner on the table without incident. He wants to fuck her without worrying about breaking her. He wants to wake up next to her with a smile on his face instead of fear in his heart. He brushes past me with a bag full of trash, and I catch a whiff of his cologne. Despite everything, his scent is still comforting.
He pauses at our back door, trash bags in hand, and apparently thinks better of what he’s about to say before he walks out.
I’m losing him.
I take Noah upstairs to the bathroom and help him into his pajamas. I watch as he brushes his teeth on his step stool. He leans over and spits. It lands all over the countertop and mirror.
His eyes widen as he looks over at me. “Whoops. Sorry, Mommy.”
I grab a towel and wipe up the mess, tossing the rag into his hamper. “No big deal,” I say.
Noah’s little eyes widen in surprise when he doesn’t get corrected and then a huge grin lights his entire face.
I’m still not her.
And I think maybe that’s not such a bad thing because the idea of riding him for something as minor as spitting toothpaste on a mirror is ridiculous.
I may be failing everyone else, but I will not fail my son.
We climb into his bed together facing each other, his head resting on my outstretched arm. I pull him close, burying my nose in his hair. “I love you so much, Noah, and I want you to know something.”
I pull away to make sure I have his attention, and he looks over to me with eyes identical to mine.
“What?”
“You know Mommy hasn’t been the same since she’s been home.”
“You’re sick.” It’s a statement and hurts so much worse when it comes out of his mouth.
“Yes, but with this kind of sickness, I have to try a lot of medicines to see which one works.”
“But you will get better?”
“Yes,” I say, praying it’s not a lie.
Tears threaten, and for the first time in months I feel like I could let them flow, but I pray hard to keep them inside. For my son, I will not let the levee break. That’s not the point of this conversation. He’s been strong and will get nothing less than the same from me. His little hand lifts to rub my cheek. “Why are you sad? Didn’t you want to come home?”
My heart. “Oh, Noah. That’s all I wanted.”
“Oh…okay,” he says, deep in thought, “Daddy is sad too.”
“I’ve hurt his feelings, but I’m going to try so hard to find the right medicine to get better for you both. I swear to you, I’ll do everything I can. And I don’t want you to ever be afraid to tell me anything, okay?”
“Okay.”
I’m losing it. His fingers tug on my hair like they did when he was little as his eyes start to get heavy.
“I feel so bad about today,” I tell him honestly. I’m done skirting the issues around my child. He deserves some safe honesty.
“It’s okay, Mommy.” He smiles. “Did you see how many presents I got?”
“Sooo many,” I say with wide eyes.
“Can I play with them after school tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Okay.” I kiss his forehead as I slide out of bed. “Hey, you know this day is still my favorite day ever, right?”
“Our day,” he says with a nod.
“That’s right. Night, baby.”
“I’m not a baby anymore, Mommy.”
So everyone keeps reminding me.
I pull his door closed to see Gavin standing outside of it with his arms crossed, wearing an expression I can’t read.
I give him the useless words. “I’m sorry.”
He’s still furious and doesn’t trust himself to speak. My hand reaches for his, and he steps away, turns the corner, and heads down the stairs.
Racing through the hall, I’m safely behind my bedroom door before the levee finally breaks.
Gavin left for work early this morning. The sting of his absence stays with me as I take Noah to school. Even though I know I look like hell, I feel a little less heavy. I cried all night when Gavin never came back upstairs. It was cleansing, to say the least. As we pull into the circular driveway, I reach back, giving his knee a squeeze.
“Okay, buddy, we’re here.”
I watch as some of the moms walk the younger kids to the door, and it does nothing for my confidence. Most of them are in full dress and makeup with smiles on their faces.
