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“And you managed to get her into the tub?” she asked.
“She got in on her own. She knew which bubble bath her mom used. She got her own towel out of the linen closet, and she chose her own snack, which, by the way, she ate in the tub,” he said, chuckling. “I had no idea what Ritz crackers looked like floating around in bubbles. And she is so sweet and funny. I just sat by the tub and watched her. Grace, you can’t imagine what it felt like to have my daughter with me, to see her play in the bathwater and so many other things. I…I… Grace, I love her so much,” he said, his voice low and filled with wonder.
He’d never been totally responsible for any child, let alone a four-year-old who had just learned that her nanny was leaving on top of everything else. “You’re amazing. How did you do this on your own?”
“I nearly called you to help me, but I didn’t dare leave Emma.”
“I would have helped you if I could,” she said, feeling hurt that he hadn’t immediately called her. Knowing that he’d managed to look after a little girl on his own made her feel as if he didn’t need her.
Could she have done what he did? She wasn’t sure. She’d done a little babysitting and read books on child-rearing…
Why hadn’t he called her for advice and support? Maybe he didn’t feel she’d be interested in what he was going through. Yet she was interested. Her misgivings over how he’d behaved earlier didn’t change the fact that she wanted to know about Emma. “Aidan, despite our differences I would have helped you with Emma,” she repeated, feeling the pain of not being included.
“You say that, but you wouldn’t stay today long enough to meet her,” he said, his voice radiating sadness.
His words filled her with remorse and a tinge of resentment. She wished she’d been there with him, to see his little girl, but she would not have found it easy to witness his love for a child she felt so ambiguous about.
“I’m really pleased for you, Aidan,” she said, struggling to sound upbeat, but all she could think about was that another woman had made her husband happier than she’d ever known him to be. Another woman had given him the child he wanted. “You sound very happy,” she said, as she faced the fact that her husband’s happiness had nothing to do with her or with their marriage.
He hadn’t said a word about them or their relationship or the way things had been left between them a few short hours ago. Once she was home, she’d prayed that he would call, that they would talk a little. As evening approached, she’d grown anxious. They’d never let the sun go down on their anger. They’d always made up before going to sleep.
How could he not have wanted to talk to her before this? How many husbands have their wives walk out after an argument and not ask how they are doing?
“Grace, are you still there?” he asked.
She wanted to ask him about where they went from here. She needed him to say what was going on with him, his feelings for her. But all he wanted to talk about was his daughter.
She realized that she sounded petulant and selfish, but she needed to talk to her husband. Needed them to agree to meet and work things out. “I’m here. I’m glad you’re enjoying your daughter,” she said, forcing the words around the painful lump in her throat.
“She’s our daughter, Grace. And when Lisa returns, I’m going to work out a plan for us to all be together. I miss you, and I want to be with you. I messed things up when you left here, but I plan to fix all that. You’ll see. I should have taken the time to call you earlier this evening. It won’t happen again.”
Relief appeared at his words. Despite their troubles, she wanted to believe him, to believe he was aware that she was hurting. “Oh, Aidan, I want us together, too, to work on our marriage. I want to get to know Emma. I’m sure if we talk this all out sensibly, we can find a solution that works for all of us.”
