The Juggling Act

by Carol Maloney Scott

  I should just be excited to see my little ones. All of the marital confrontation can wait. I’m also exhausted from the trip, both the plane rides and all of the events of the past week.

  Besides, I don’t want to talk any more about our child care arrangements until I tell Brandon all about my job offer. The only way I want Aidan going to daycare is if I am home with Brandon. I am not comfortable with Diamond having access to my husband with no one around all day. She wouldn’t be able to use the play date excuse, but she wouldn’t have to. Jane can’t spy all day, and it’s unfair of me to expect her to get involved.

  We pull into the driveway, and Brandon retrieves my luggage. At the living room window I can see Zoe holding Aidan and pointing at us. He starts jumping and she holds him tighter to keep him from banging his head against the window.

  As we approach the house I hear the shrill greetings of my furry children. Brandon opens the door and lets me walk in first, while he deposits the luggage in the foyer.

  “Mama, Mama, Mama.” Aidan runs to me and almost falls over, which is understandable since running is a recently acquired skill.

  I hug him very tight and tears form at the corners of my eyes. Zoe is beaming at us.

  “Welcome home, Claire. This little guy has been so excited knowing Daddy went to get you. He went around to all the tables and collected pictures of you to show me.”

  My eyes become even moister as I survey the pile of framed photos laying on the couch and the coffee table. Hugging Aidan tighter, I finally acknowledge Dixie and Duncan, who have been jumping and sniffing since we walked in the door.

  Aidan lets them jump on him, too, and laughs as Duncan hops up and sneaks in a lick. Duncan is more of a family dog, where Dixie is hopelessly devoted to me. It was just the two of us for a while, so she needs extra care. I pick her up and kiss her head, and Duncan leaps up to join his sister.

  Brandon is watching us and finally smiles. He appears distracted and a little tense.

  Brandon

  “Thanks for coming over to watch Aidan. That was a big help.”

  Claire is upstairs bathing Aidan, and Zoe is getting ready to leave. I walk her to the door and she grabs her jacket off the hook. Black leather, of course.

  “Any time. He’s adorable.” She zips her jacket and pulls her long hair out from under the collar. “So, is everything okay? Did you guys get to talk?”

  “Yeah, a little bit. We’ll iron things out this weekend. She needs time to unwind and enjoy the baby and the dogs.”

  “Plus you want to get some tonight, and you know if you get into an argument your frustration will continue.” She punches my arm playfully and smiles.

  “Yeah, there’s that, too.”

  “I know. You should bring her down to the studio and sing with her. If she’s as good as Justin seems to think she is, maybe she could do some backup? That would be a good way to get her involved with the band. I’m assuming you still need to discuss our plans with her?”

  “Yes, that’s on my ever growing list of hot topics, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Claire can’t sing, that’s ridiculous. Justin was just trying to get in her pants.”

  “You know, not everyone has ulterior motives.”

  “You don’t know the guy.”

  “Have you ever heard her sing?”

  “Well no, but if she could sing, she would have figured that out a long time ago. She’s almost forty.”

  “Okay, so you would rather ignore it and let her take compliments and praise from another guy. Makes sense to me. You really have this whole marriage thing figured out.”

  “What do you know about marriage?”

  She opens the door and the chilly night air creeps into the house, which is a welcome addition to this increasingly heated conversation.

  “I know that if you let another guy give your wife what she needs, she won’t need you. That’s just common sense, my friend.” She taps my forehead lightly, as if to highlight my senseless brain.

  “Good night, Dr. Phil.”

  I smirk as I close the door, but my stomach drops when I think of Claire and Justin singing together. There is no way he can sing Breaking Benjamin songs. That’s preposterous. She was probably drunk.

  That’s what I need to do. Take Claire to the show tomorrow night. She hardly ever comes anymore, and she used to love it. She may be reluctant to leave Aidan, but I will explain how much I want us to have fun together again. That will be the perfect lead in to sharing my plans for the band.

  Somewhere in that uptight wife is the party girl I fell in love with. And if all else fails, I have Peter’s news to share. As long as she believes I’m committed to our family, she will embrace the rest.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Claire

  I awake in confusion, then realize I am back home in my own bed. I glance around our bedroom. What a wreck. But I didn’t say anything about the state of the house to Brandon last night. I know he had a hard week with me gone, and all the drama with Tatiana.

  I’m not calling Ron. Or my mother. I don’t even care what happened. Aidan liked her a lot but he’s so young. He’ll forget easily.

  I grab my phone off the night table. It’s after nine and Brandon is up. That’s sweet of him to let me sleep late on my first day home.

  Last night turned out to be a perfect homecoming. Seeing Aidan and the dogs instantly lifted my spirits. I no longer felt the desire to hammer Brandon about Diamond or any of my other suspicious, petty thoughts.

  I have always been plagued with irrational fear. And thanks to Justin, I worked on several other fears on this trip.

  Brandon wants me to come to the show tonight. I wish we could go out alone. I bet I can convince him to do karaoke with me somewhere. Maybe next weekend at a bar where he doesn’t play with his band, so no one will know he’s selling out with cheesy fake singing, as he put it.

  I stretch in bed and notice that the dogs are not in their crate. He brought them downstairs, too. Wow. He never does that.

  I sit up and rub my eyes. I’m not going to say anything, but my feet are actually touching what I am sure are dirty clothes at the bottom of the bed, under the covers. Maybe we need a cleaning lady more than a nanny, even if we go with the daycare option.

  I did tell Brandon about the job offer and he had some questions. He wasn’t opposed to it, but I could see he wasn’t sure if I should make the leap. I assured him that I wasn’t sold and that I needed to talk to Didier about doing more manuscript editing, especially now that I have proven myself at acquiring new talent. I may even be able to negotiate some work from home days to give us more flexibility. Pam has been much more progressive about work/life balance than our former CEO ever was.

  I decide to jump in the shower before I go downstairs. Once everyone is reminded of my presence, the spell will be broken and everyone will want Mommy’s attention, instead of Daddy’s.

  As I stand under the hot water and massage my pomegranate body scrub into my skin, I smile at the thought of my reunion with Brandon. Although I would never tell him, there was a lot of sexual tension on this trip, and even though I would never succumb to it, I was ready to ease some of it with my husband. And he didn’t disappoint. Even though I hate to admit it, he probably had the same thing all week with Diamond popping over.

  But don’t all couples have these temptations and challenges? Sure, we could tell Diamond we’re not renewing her lease when the time comes and rent to a man, or a less attractive woman. We could hire a plain, older lady as a nanny. I could take the job in Philly and never see Justin at the office again.

  But then what’s next? Brandon plays in a band. Should I try to end that? I could start going to the new home office in Philly and meet a super-hot guy there. We can’t live in a bubble.

  I finish my shower beauty rituals and turn off the water. The bathroom is steamy, like a warm cocoon. I gently towel dry my hair and crack the bathroom door to let in a little air. I peek out and still don’t see any
one coming to check on Mommy.

  Brandon also alluded to plans with the band. I know they’ve been working on some original stuff. He probably just wants me to listen to his new songs. It’s not like I have to worry about them making it big and going on tour. They’re a cover band and they all have jobs and lives.

  I’m excited that Brandon wants me to come to the show. I miss getting dressed up and going out, and I’m sure we can find someone to stay with Aidan for a couple of hours. He’s happy that I’m home, but he isn’t a clingy baby. I intend to spend the better part of the day playing with him. The house cleaning can wait.

  I glance at the overflowing wastepaper basket in the bathroom and sigh. I do hate when the house is a…oh my God. What the hell is that?

  Brandon

  “What the hell is going on? This was in the wastepaper basket in our bathroom!”

  Claire shoves what looks like some kind of plastic thermometer at me, while trying to keep the towel straight on her wet head. I was just in Aidan’s room gathering the dirty clothes I hid in the closet earlier in the week.

  “I don’t know. What is it?” This drama is never ending. Oh shit. I hold the object in one hand and protect my face with the other. However, our son is sitting on the floor playing, so at least I know she won’t kill me.

  A fucking home pregnancy test.

  Claire’s hands are on her hips as she stands there wearing her light blue bathrobe and a murderous glare. “I think you can read so you can see what it is. Why is a pregnancy test in our trash?”

  There have been multiple young women in the house in her absence. I guess maybe that’s part of the reason I don’t want to guess who it belongs to. Or why it’s in our bathroom trash.

  “Claire, calm down. Zoe was here yesterday and Tatiana has only been gone since Thursday. You can clearly see I haven’t emptied the trash. Whatever you put in there a week ago is still in there.”

  “Why would anyone use our bathroom? Especially for something this…personal?”

  Her face is flushed and her hands are shaking. I can see why she’s upset, but her reaction seems over the top to me. I feel like I’m getting set up, but I can’t figure out how.

  “I have no idea. Maybe someone was in the other one and whoever it was just slipped in ours. What exactly are you accusing me of? Maybe somebody wanted an anonymous place to take the test.” I snap my fingers. “I know, Bianca was here, too. Maybe she didn’t want Max to know so she…” This sounds ridiculous, even to me.

  Even while I am breaking down her argument, I can see she’s not budging. Now she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small piece of lacy…oh fuck.

  With tears in her eyes she says, “I’m so crazy, right? Then what were these doing in our bed?”

  My heart is pounding as I search my brain for a possible explanation. “In our bed?”

  “Yes, Brandon.” She holds the purple lace panties with one finger and continues. “At the bottom of our bed, under the covers!”

  “They’re not yours?”

  I flinch as I say this. Even though our son is here to protect me, I’m not sure how close Claire is to the edge. And I have no idea how to answer her question.

  “Obviously I would know if they are mine. And they’re not. So obviously another woman was here. I guess when she saw the negative pregnancy test, she relaxed enough to take a nap in our bed and took off her underwear? Was Goldilocks here, Brandon, checking out all the beds?”

  She smacks her forehead like she’s figured it out and that can’t be good. She smiles in a slightly maniacal way. “I know, Goldilocks was here. That’s how she knew all the trouble you were having with the dogs at night.”

  “No, Claire, you’re wrong.” Diamond actually was upstairs the other night, but that’s insane. She wasn’t in our bed. I now remember who was.

  “Look, I didn’t want to tell you this because I know how conservative you are…” I shrink again under her scowl. “…but Cassie and Jon have this thing they do—they like to have sex in other people’s beds. They think it keeps their marriage fresh. Anyway, I caught them up here the other night.”

  Claire throws the panties at my feet and slumps down in the rocking chair. Aidan comes over to show her his little car, and how he makes it go ‘vroom, vroom.’ She hugs him so he doesn’t see her tears. “That’s very nice, Sweetie.” She pulls out a few more cars to distract him.

  Claire speaks softly and slowly, looking me right in the eye. “Cassie is six months pregnant and weighs far more than the person who owns those…”

  She wipes her eyes and stands up. “The fact that you think you can lie to me, and in such an outlandish way…and DO NOT tell me they belong to Tatiana, either. Her ass is the width of this rocking chair. Who else was here? My mother. No. Zoe. She’s the only one I trust. Who else? Bianca? Also a no. There’s only one person these could possibly belong to.”

  My head feels like it is going to split open. If I tell her that Diamond was here babysitting and she was upstairs, she still won’t believe me, because panties in a bed only means one thing. And I don’t have an explanation that exonerates me. Hell. I don’t even have an explanation, period. I almost feel like saying they probably are Claire’s and she either doesn’t remember, or she is trying to trick me into admitting something she suspects, regardless of the evidence.

  So much for a pleasant homecoming. I can’t stand here watching her cry any longer. “Claire, you obviously don’t believe a word I say, and you don’t trust me.” I breathe in deeply. “I’ve gotta get out of here. I’ve been trapped in this house all week. I don’t know what happened. But I do know that if I stand here a moment longer, I am going to say something I’ll regret.”

  I march down the stairs and grab my keys, not stopping to look back. I half expect her to chase me to the car and beg me to stay, but I think she’s done with me.

  As I get in my stupid minivan (what a lame getaway vehicle), I glance across the street. One thing is for sure. Claire and I both suspect the same person. The problem is, I can’t tell Claire that without letting her know that Diamond has been coming on to me, and how much she has been at the house this week. I slam my hand on the steering wheel as I realize I don’t even know where I’m going.

  And I didn’t even get to tell her about the adoption, but based on the look in her eye, I may need Peter’s services for a different legal matter.

  Claire

  “Claire, what a surprise. Did Bianca know you were coming? Oh, and look at the little guy. Mick will be so excited to see his buddy.”

  Bianca’s mother, Sharon, touches Aidan’s cheek and he smiles and hides his face in my neck. Her silly little Maltese, Phoebe, jumps on my leg and barks her tiny yelps.

  “No. Actually she didn’t know, but I saw her car. I really need to talk to her. Someone.”

  My eyes well up and Sharon bites her lip. “Oh, boy. Okay, I’ll go get her. Let me take Aidan to the playroom. I’ll keep the little ones busy while you girls talk.”

  She takes Aidan, who obviously remembers this is where his friend lives.

  Sharon is in her early forties. She was only a teenager when Bianca was born. She’s been a single mother all of her life, well…since Bianca’s father left town when she was a baby.

  I stand in the foyer of the charming row house on Monument Avenue, and marvel at the difference in their home life, now that they’ve moved. Sharon’s ninety-six-year-old grandmother recently passed away, and left her this home in the beautiful city neighborhood. They promptly moved out of the little house they owned in an older development adjacent to ours, in the less desirable suburbs. Bianca followed, with Max and Mick in tow.

  “Bianca, Claire’s here. Honey, do you hear me?” She calls up the stairs and then turns back to me. “There’s freshly made blueberry muffins on the stove, Claire. Help yourself.”

  She disappears into the playroom at the back of the house and I sit on the sofa in their small, but cozy, living room. Sharon runs a catering busine
ss, and her food is amazing. She catered our wedding…that memory springs forth fresh tears as Bianca comes running down the stairs.

  “What’s going on?” Her long, flaming red hair is pulled up in a sloppy pony tail, and her grey tank top reveals her many tattoos on her arms and chest. “I was just doing a little cleaning. Are you crying? What did that asshole do? Didn’t you just get home last night?”

  I toss my purse onto the floor and Phoebe’s nose is immediately in it. Bianca scoops her up and carries her to the couch, sitting down for the story.

  I tell her everything that happened since last night, condensing all of the topics we’re arguing about. She doesn’t look all that surprised about some of them, and now I’m wondering how much Brandon shared with her in my absence. She is like a sister to him, and I know she’s confided in him about her problems with Max over the years.

  “You know, my first instinct is to drive over there and beat the shit out of him, but something doesn’t add up.” She holds up her hand in defense. “I get it. I agree, the evidence is very damning, but I can’t see him cheating on you. Doing stupid things, hiding stuff to stay out of trouble? Yes. But actually cheating? And so carelessly?”

  “Yoo, hoo, girls!” Sharon pops back into the living room. “The little ones are settled in the playroom. I put on an educational baby video, and they’re playing with the shape sorters. Need to keep those young minds engaged.” Her smile turns to a frown when she sees my teary eyes again, and now Bianca’s pursed lips.

  “Mom, Claire’s having a meltdown here. Did you need something?”

  “Oh no, I just thought I’d let you know about the boys. Mick was so happy to see Aidan. Are you sure you don’t want a blueberry muffin, Claire? How about some tea?”

  Why do all mothers want to give you tea? Sharon and my mother are night and day in every way, except trying to solve life’s problems with baked goods and hot liquid.

  Now, if she really wants to do something useful, she can make a pot of tea, go to my house, and pour it on Brandon’s…