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Ethan had to go to work today. It’s the first time he’s gone into the office since Matthew was born. He didn’t want to leave me alone, but Jake insisted they had some things that couldn’t wait. Ethan, eager to get into his brother’s good graces again, decided he’d better go in.
He’s been gone for eight long hours.
I’m pretty sure a tornado came through here while he was gone. His usually pristine home is now littered with baby paraphernalia, baby spit, baby diapers, baby everything. And I don’t have the energy to clean up anything. After only getting three hours of sleep last night, I feel like a walking zombie.
If not for Ethan, I’d be doing this alone every day. I don’t think I’d have survived it.
Patient, sweet Ethan.
The poor guy.
I know I’m acting like a psycho. The lack of sleep is making me crazy. Ethan just smiles, talks soothingly to me, and fixes whatever needs fixing. I know he’s tired, too. He wakes up at night whenever I do, and he watches Matthew during the day while I nap. And he never complains.
Having him gone today has been a shock to my poor, exhausted body. I don’t think I realized how much he’s been helping out.
I sure realize it now.
Just when I am certain Matthew’s crying will cause me to lose my mind, Ethan gets home from work. He comes in, looking like he’s slept a full nine hours. No raccoon eyes for him, nope. No crazy sticking-up Einstein’s hair for him, nope.
Me? I look like I put my hand in a light socket.
“How’s my favorite girl and my favorite guy?” Ethan asks, walking into the kitchen. He comes up to us and kisses Matthew’s cheek. “I missed you two today.”
“The place is a mess. I’m sorry,” I say apologetically.
He looks around, seemingly noticing the mess for the first time. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll ask the housekeeper to come in twice a week instead of just once.”
It’s going to be a rude awakening when I finally move back to my place and don’t have these luxuries. “That would be great. I hate that we are destroying your gorgeous condo.”
Ethan starts moving around the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes on the counter. Offhandedly, he says, “The private detective we hired is going to stop by this evening. She said she has some questions for us.”
I look up, startled. “She’s found something?”
But he shakes his head. “No, unfortunately, no leads yet. We haven’t given her much to go on, though. Since you were in the hospital, she didn’t want to disturb you with questions.”
“I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to help. You know everything I know.”
“She said it won’t take too long.”
“Okay. When will she be here?”
He looks at the clock over the microwave. “Oh . . . in about twenty minutes.”
“Ugh, Ethan! Look at me! I’m a freaking disaster. And I smell like curdled milk.”
As I run into the guest suite bathroom, I am cursing Ethan in my head. My poor messy bun has seen better days. I struggle to untangle it and desperately try to run a brush through the mess. It’s a hot mess, and so am I. I can’t believe I’ve allowed Ethan to see me like this. When was the last time I even looked in the mirror?
I hear the doorbell ring. She’s early. Of course, she’s early.
I go slinking into the living room. Because the baby came early, Ethan is the only one who has talked to her. He says she is nice, but at this moment, I hope this P.I. is ugly and has awful hair. That’s the only thing that will make me feel better about myself right now.
Ethan lets her in, and no, she’s not ugly at all. In fact, she’s gorgeous.
I betshedoesn’t smell like rotten milk and vomit.
She reaches out to shake Ethan’s hand. Ethan bestows his most charming and gorgeous smile on her in return. He probably finds her attractive.
I’m feeling petty and tired. My lack of sleep is making me a snarky bitch. I’m not even sure I like myself right now.
