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Gemini never makes me feel stupid for my choices or doesn't hold me back from following through with them. He explains his view, and we talk about our reasons. Sometimes, I even change my mind and do what he suggests, seeing the wisdom of his viewpoint. Sometimes, I don't.
“I know, baby. I'll let you go so you can get shit done. Talk to you tomorrow. Have a good, peaceful night, Heather.” It’s a standard goodbye for Gemini. His way of dealing with me being in this house with Steven, still. Never knowing what I’ll be facing when my monster of a husband gets home.
“I'll do my best to keep my head down and stay safe. Tomorrow, Gem.” I hang up before I give in and tell him to come get us. I know he'd come for us in a heartbeat, but I need to stand on my own during this. Partly because I’m ashamed of staying in an abusive marriage and exposing my son to it for so long. I can’t leave yet because I have a few key things I need to fall into place.
The other part is that I've never really been on my own. Meeting Steven at such a young age and then falling into the whirlwind of getting married right out of high school and then having a baby two years later, it’s never been just me. I’ve always been a daughter, then a wife, and now a mother.
A yell from Zander after waking up from his nap brings me out of my thoughts and back to the present. I leave the box for the moment while tucking my phone in the back pocket of my cream slacks that I know Steven prefers.
He is the brightest light in my life, not the only one, but he takes center stage. I climb the stairs to his room and scoop up Zander so we can play.
“Hi, my sweet boy,” I greet him with a genuine smile. I pour all my love for him into a hug before I take his zip-up blanket off him. Reminding myself to delete the last phone call with Gemini before Steven gets home and then checking my phone, I descend the stairs with Zander tucked safely in my arms, and we head to his playroom. I'll get the box fully packed and ready to give to Gemini after playtime while Zander’s having a snack.
Zander plays on the kitchen floor with his toy cars as I chop up his organic apples into slices. When I’m done, I set his plate on the gleaming table and help him get into his seat.
Once he’s settled in and eating happily, I move toward the box of coffee cups. I finish taping it up, then get out the wrapping paper, pull it up around the box, and gather it all together at the top to make a puffy bow. Tying a red ribbon to hold it in place, I write his name in one of the folds so that even if Steven finds it, it'll be difficult to see. Once Zander is done, I help him down, holding his little hand in mine, and tuck the box under my other arm to head up the stairs to one of the spare bedrooms, looking for a good hiding place.
I let Zander explore the room while I tuck the wrapped box into the recesses of the closet out of sight and make sure to put the things back precisely the way they had been. I doubt Steven will have a reason to come into this room, but I never know. He occasionally flies off in a rage and tears the house apart, looking for evidence that I’ve been unfaithful.
I take one last look to be sure everything is put back. Then, I turn quickly when I hear Zander give an alarmed yell. I look around the bed and find he’s managed to wedge himself between the vanity desk and armoire. Easing him out and soothing him, my attention is consumed as I head down the hall to his room.
“Sshh... It's okay, my baby boy. Mommy’s got you. I'm here. I've got you.” I coo until he settles down, resting his head on my shoulder, and pops his thumb into his mouth, helping to soothe himself. It’s a habit that often spurs Steven's rage, but I can’t bear to break him of it when it gives him such comfort.
I head straight to the rocking chair in his room and push back gently to set it rocking. I love these quiet moments with him, even if he’s not really a baby anymore. I start singing a song I made up for him when he was still in my tummy. It’s never failed to calm him completely.
All too soon, he gets antsy, so I stand to take him back to his playroom on the first floor of the ridiculously sized house Steven’s parents insisted we had to have. We don't use even half of it. At least with all the stairs I climb up and down more times than I can count during the day, I never have to worry about going to the gym. I remember it like it was only yesterday.
Steven and I had just landed, back from our honeymoon, and his parents wanted to pick us up from the airport. Steven wheels our luggage to the back of their town car. Then, he and his dad load it all into the trunk, while his mom and I slide into the back seat so our husbands could sit in the front.
“How was your trip?” Steven’s mom, Helen, asks me.
“Perfect,” I say.
“Wonderful,” she clasps her hands in front of her, “We have a wedding gift for you, but it wasn’t ready until the day after you left. So, we’re giving it to you now.”
A knot of unease forms in my belly as Steven’s dad, Frank, drives us through a very pristine neighborhood with houses the size of small mansions.
Frank pulls into the drive of the biggest house on the block. He and Helen get out. Steven quickly follows. I sit in the car, shocked they would do this without asking us.
“Isn’t it perfect?” Helen says with a huge smile on her face. She truly is happy, and I don’t want her to think I’m not grateful. So, I return her smile with a smaller one of my own. Steven pulls me under his arm and grins down at me, “Surprise, Wife.”
My heart sinks, knowing that my concerns and objections will fall on deaf ears since it appears, he was in on this.
Coming back to the present and out of my head, Zander and I play until his dinner time, and then once he’s fed, I put him in the bath to start his nighttime routine. I take pictures of him splashing and laughing in the bubble-filled water.
After his usual amount of time playing in the tub, I pick him up and dry him off, combing the dark head of hair he gets from his father. He’s the mirror image of Steven in every physical way. It isn't that Steven is unattractive because when we met, I hadn't seen a man more handsome. Now, I can barely stand to look at him. The only thing that makes me not despair that my son looks like his father is the love I hold in my heart for my precious little boy. I can never think anything poorly about my son. We get pajamas on after a lot of squirming and tons of giggles caused by mommy tickles. Zander falls asleep just after he hits his pillow. I tuck the portable baby monitor in my other back pocket and leave his night light on, with his door slightly cracked so some light can get in.
I head into the kitchen to check the pot roast in the crock pot that’s been simmering all day. It’s nice and tender.
Satisfied, I turn to the cupboard getting out plates and the other bowls or utensils for dinner that Steven might think we need. Setting it all up on the dining room table takes about five minutes. Plating his food, I make sure he gets the juiciest portion of the roast and the best-looking carrots and potatoes. I toss the salad I’ve had chilling in the fridge and put some in his bowl but don’t add his dressing yet. I don’t want it to get soggy in case he doesn't come home in the next five minutes.
Before I go to wait by the front door, I double-check that everything is the way Steven likes it. The table and food are picture perfect, so I turn and stand by the front entrance and wait, and wait... After thirty minutes of waiting, I pull out my phone and check to see if Steven had called or texted me that he was going to be late. When I find nothing, I remember the call to Gemini and go into recent calls, deleting the one to Gemini. I put my phone back in my pocket, so he won't get mad that I’m on my phone instead of patiently waiting for his arrival.
More time passes, and after two hours of waiting, I go back to the dining room to gather the meal and put it all away. This is dangerous as I never know if this will incite his anger that he doesn’t have food waiting for him. Or mad if I don’t and let the food go to waste. That is, if he'll even notice. It’s all dependent upon his mood when he gets home. I start cleaning the already spotless kitchen and load the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Once I’m done, I eat a quick bowl of cereal, grab the monitor from the counter, then head up to the master bedroom I still share with Steven, keeping up the façade of a happy life.
I might read a bit before I turn in for the night. On my way down that hall, I check in on Zander. He’s sleeping soundly, his little mouth making a perfect ‘O’ with his chubby cheeks. Smiling to myself at his peaceful slumber, I continue quietly so as not to wake him. The love I have for my boy knows no bounds. The master bedroom is at the end of the hallway and takes up the entire side of this section of the house.
Pulling a nightgown from one of my dresser drawers, I pad my way over to the master bath and change into the soft butter-yellow satin, then wash my face and apply moisturizer to my face and neck. A cooling sensation tingles my skin pleasantly. It wouldn't do for Mrs. Steven Black to have a wrinkle.
