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I jump at first, startled at hearing near-perfect English from someone that isn’t Faye. “Uh, yeah, how did you know?” I ask, suddenly feeling rather self-conscious. This man sees something on me that told him my entire story.
“The way you carry yourself, you are deep in thought. Men do not buy flowers when they are angry at their bosses,” he replies, smiling sincerely. “What’s the matter?”
At first, I’m hesitant to divulge such information to a stranger in a shop. It feels horribly personal, especially given how nuanced the situation is. If it were just a fight about a baby, I’m sure he could help me more. If I told him about Grisha, Adam, and the issue with the drugs, he would have me arrested right away.
“Um, it’s just some stuff about a baby. She found out that she’s pregnant two months ago, and it’s been kind of hard ever since,” I say, hating the despondence in my voice. Even if Iamexhausted, I hate to sound like I have anything bad to say about Faye at all. She’s absolutely lovely in every way.
“Oh, a baby? That’s wonderful news. You’ll want to make sure you listen to her, women know what’s best when they’re pregnant. I think it’s innate to them,” the old man replies, taking the bouquet and cutting the stems shorter. He begins to wrap them in a pretty white paper with a pearlescent finish, giving the flowers a dreamlike look to them. Everything in Japan has seemed so much prettier and better presented than things in the US, and that’s a standard that I’ll be disappointed to leave behind.
“Yeah, but you know how it is. The baby was unplanned, so we’re both a little stressed out. We don’t even live here in the county. I’m here on business, and she’s getting tired of it.”
His eyes soften a bit, and I can see the depth of empathy in them.
“You know, my wife and I went through a period where we were fighting nonstop. It felt like a battle field every day just to walk out of my bedroom into the same space as her. I always felt like I had to win every fight, and she didn’t have the confidence to call me out on my bullshit,” he says, standing up straighter as he recalls the memory.
“How did you figure it out?” I ask, growing curious of his methods.
“I didn’t. When I finally realized that she felt like she was alone in our marriage, I tried everything I could to get her to stay. I did all the generic grand gestures, shows of affection, all of that. But by that point, she was over it, and she left with both kids. I was angry at her for so long. I couldn’t believe that she would betray me like that,” he explains. “But I was the one who was wrong, and I paid the ultimate price for it.”
My chest twinges at the thought of Faye leaving with our baby.
“What do you think I should do?” I ask him, feeling a little more vulnerable with this old man than I had planned.
“You need to apologize to her even if you don’t fully understand why she’s upset all the time. She’s going through a lot, especially if it’s your first baby. Her body is changing, your relationship is changing, and she might feel powerless as everything about her life shifts around her,” he replies as he completes the wrap on the flowers.
I stop and think to myself for a moment. I haven’t been giving Faye enough of my patience with this pregnancy at all. I haven’t even thought about how much stress she must be under just from the baby alone, not even accounting for how the life she once knew is over for good.
“You’re right, thank you so much,” I say as I hand him some cash.
He nods in agreement, and I leave the shop with a new perspective. I’m going to make sure Faye knows that I love her. She’s never going to feel like she’s just a fixture in my life ever again.
23
Faye
Idon’t see much of Aleksander the next morning before I head out for a walk. I didn’t even ask him this time. All I did was leave a note on the bedside table in case he wandered into our bedroom while I was gone. He slept on the couch last night, and while I appreciated the space to gather my thoughts and release some frustration, I desperately missed having his body next to mine. I’ve gotten so used to having him there that the space next to me feels cold and empty in his absence. I’m not going to give up my side of the argument just for his warmth, but I miss him regardless.
The morning is crisp with a beautiful lavender sunrise. If I had the means, I’d want to be out in the middle of a field of wildflowers while the sun rises, gently calling down the moon as it takes over for the day. I’d be so far away from any of this bullshit that has been hurting and bothering me. All I want right now is to feel heard and cared for, but as my mother always says, you can’t force anyone to feel how you want them to. If Aleksander doesn’t want me around anymore because he thinks that pregnancy has made me crazy, so be it.
I see a few people walking down the sidewalks, but it’s mostly children on their way to school. These children look nothing like how my baby will, of course, but they still get me to think about my child’s future. Is this what my child will look like as they walk to school, happy and fulfilled as they explore the world around them? Or will they be forced to live in an ivory tower far away from normal socialization for their own protection?
They seem so happy and full of life, and I could never imagine forcing a child to live in such a way that would suppress their innocent wonderment. If Aleksander wants to keep this baby, he’ll have to make damn sure that they’re protected at all times. I won’t ever allow them to feel like they’re under attack for one second. I can’t imagine what that does to a child’s development. You might as well raise them in an active war zone if they’re always going to live like their house is about to get raided.
I don’t stay out for too long. I have to admit to myself that I do want to work this out with Aleksander, even if I have to admit fault for being a little too hysterical. It’s not like he’s trying to hurt me or make things difficult, and he’s right – the dangers of his work have afforded me the lifestyle that women at my job would absolutely kill for. I’m certain my friends back home would be seething with jealously if they knew how well I was living, and even more so if they knew how ungrateful I’ve been.
When I make the loop back around to the house, I see a couple of teenagers wandering around the outside of the school yard that I had passed before. Two of them appear to be a couple, and they’re playfully grabbing onto each other and stroking each other’s hair before they’re called inside for class. That kind of pure, unselfish love is something I’ve always envied about other people, and now might be my chance to finally have it if I myself can stop being so self-centered. I know that’s what Aleksander wants too, and he would probably listen to me better if I wasn’t so defensive all the time.
I watch the kids walk into the building together, arms around each other’s shoulders in an impractical demonstration of their affection. As soon as they’re out of my line of sight, I realize that I’m feeling that familiar ache for Aleksander near me. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since he and I even touched, but I’m losing my resolve quickly. He’s all I’ve known for the past two, almost three, months now. Of course I’m going to grow a bit attached to him. What the hell else am I supposed to do?
The house smells like light roast coffee as I step inside. Aleksander is awake already, but he doesn’t appear to be upset with me for taking a walk. Is he so sick of my shit that he’s just going to let me go now?
Before I have the chance to ask, I see a beautiful bouquet of roses in a water glass on the table.
“Aleksander, what are these?” I ask stupidly.
“They’re flowers, roses to be exact. Not sure if you’re familiar, but many women enjoy receiving them as gifts. Apology gifts, in particular,” he replies, bringing a cup of coffee over to me as I sit down to admire the roses.
“Of course I know what they are, but... why?” I wonder out loud.
