“It’s okay, Mom.”
“Don’t try bathing them alone.”
“My car won’t start. I can’t make it over.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll wait for Derek to get home. Promise.”
When he came home, I met him near the kitchen.
“I need you to bathe the boys tonight.”
He dropped his keys into the bowl.
“I need you to bathe the boys tonight.”
“I just walked in, Hope. Don’t you think you’re being a bit ridiculous right now?”
“I know.”
“Skip it.”
“They need one.”
“Use a washcloth and warm water. That’s what tired mothers do.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit ridiculous right now?”
“Derek.”
He sighed.
“I’ve been working all day.”
“So have I.”
He looked at me like I’d said something ridiculous.
“Why should I have to come home and take care of the kids too?”
“I’ve been working all day.”
I stopped.
“Too?”
“What?”
“You said ‘too.'”
“So?”
“You think this is what I do after my day?”
“You stay home.”
I stopped.
“With Luke and Miles.”
“You stay home and do nothing all day.”
For once, I didn’t defend myself.
I just said, “Okay.”
Derek frowned.
“Okay what?”
“Nothing.”
I didn’t defend myself.
He stared at me.
“Don’t do that calm thing.”
“What calm thing?”
“The thing where you stop talking.”
He knew I hated conflict and usually kept talking until everybody felt better.
Mostly him.
“Don’t do that calm thing.”
***
That night, after the boys finally fell asleep, I sat at the kitchen table with my aching arm resting on a folded towel.
Earlier, Luke had reached for me, and I’d had to ask Derek to lift his own child.
I opened my notebook.
- Baths.
- Evening bottles.
- Carrying the boys upstairs.
- One nighttime waking.
Luke had reached for me.
I stared at the list.
These weren’t favors. I physically couldn’t do them safely.
***
The next evening, I slid the page across the table.
Derek glanced down. “What’s this?”
“What needs to change while my arm heals.”
He read the first few lines.
I physically couldn’t do them safely.
“You made me a schedule?”
“I made us a plan.”
He pushed the paper away. “I’m not doing shifts in my own house.”
I looked at him. “Then tell me what you will do.”
His expression tightened.
“Hope, I work all day.”
“You made me a schedule?”
“I know. I’m asking what happens when you come home.”
He didn’t answer.
