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“Hey, buddy. What are you doing awake in my bed?”
I quickly duck to our walk-in-closet grabbing a tee and boxers. Putting them on, I dump the towel on the floor.
“You said you would tell me the story about the Yankees winning the World Series.”
I climb into bed, smothered by Masen’s hug as he tackles me. Okay, this kid has some sort of spell over me. I’ll admit that and call defeat.
“Hmm… I guess I did say that, but I also remember having to tell you a story about the tickle monster.”
Masen giggles, throwing the blanket over his face. “No, Daddy. We finished the story of the tickle monster. He’s gone now, far away to heaven because he died. Remember, no more, he’s gone?”
“I don’t know about that…” I wiggle my fingers the same time Masen removes the blanket, only for him to squeal. “The tickle monster is hungry, and he’s after a naughty little boy who doesn’t sleep in his own bed.”
Masen pushes my hands away, giggling so loud until I finally stop, knowing full well I shouldn’t be riling this kid up.
“Okay, no tickle monster.”
“No, tickle monster, Daddy.”
Placing my arm around him, I glance toward the bedside table as my cell lights up. It’s a text from Presley simply saying good night. I know her well enough to know she is currently sitting in our home office, wide awake with a thousand ideas on this stupid co-writing bullshit.
And this is what our marriage has become. A battle of us against parenting. And the sucky part—Masen always wins. It is impossible to say no.
“Okay, you ready?”
“I’m ready, Daddy.”
“Well, it was two-thousand-and nine…”
Four
Presley
I couldn’t sleep.
Haden’s announcement mid-foreplay sent my brain into overdrive. I thrive on this stuff—a co-written cross-genre piece by our best-selling authors. The possibilities are endless.
It’s just after midnight, and although sleep should be my priority since last night barely saw any, I am running on adrenaline ready with my list of ideas to fire off at Haden the moment we step in the office.
Quickly checking my calendar, I clear some time to book him in since it is almost impossible to get his attention these days. I shift two other meetings I had scheduled to the afternoon until I see another item pop up in my calendar.
Reminder: Birth Control due to expire
Great, this is the last thing I need. Ironic, since birth control is often used to prevent pregnancy which is caused by people having sex.
I rest my elbows on the desk, my shoulders curl as I bury my face into my hands. The last time my birth control needed renewal, and Haden found out, he demanded I don’t bother, and we try for another baby.
That was over one year ago when Masen turned three and finally left the terrible two’s stage behind. Haden doesn’t want Masen to be an only child, but I don’t see more kids in our future, at least not anytime soon. It is hard enough juggling work and only one child. How will I be able to juggle two? Not to mention the sleepless nights, teething, and oh, wait… the uncomfortable nine months of being pregnant.
I explained this, tirelessly, to a man who just doesn’t understand. It erupted into a huge fight between us, countless nights of Haden on the couch and me next to Masen in our bed. At work, things got heated, and Haden was in an awful mood all the time. Then Haden’s mother, Elizabeth, found out she had breast cancer which thankfully was caught in time. Between Haden flying back and forth, and his mother surviving what was a difficult time for the whole family, he apologized for being an asshole, and the whole subject was placed on the backburner.
But somehow, someway, I will need to sneak an appointment with the doctor to get a new prescription without him knowing. Another item to add onto my ever-growing list of things to do and worry about.
My eyes begin to weigh heavy, the tiredness slowly seeping in as my body follows suit. I turn the small lamp off and shut down the laptop before leaving the dark room and slowly walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
As I make my way to our room, I peek my head through the door and see Haden and Masen fast asleep. Haden is lying on the edge of the bed, no duvet or sheets covering him as Masen’s stolen it all. Masen, of course, is lying across the bed, horizontally, with no room for me to rest my weary self. Letting out a yawn, I quietly walk over and turn off the lamp on the nightstand until Haden stirs.
“Are you coming to bed now?” he mumbles, half asleep.
