The Girl in Seat 24B

by Jennifer Peel

  “Sure,” I replied.

  I kissed Ashton’s head and squeezed him once more and pushed myself off the soft queen-sized bed with the hideous floral patterned comforter. I walked toward the door that was filled by the other half of our family. Michael kissed Mia’s cheek and went to set her down, but she still held on.

  I held out my arms. “Come here, Mia.”

  “Mia, mommy shouldn’t be holding you right now with the baby, can you please stand up like a big girl and go with her?” Michael asked gently.

  She reluctantly dropped to the floor and took my hand all in a dramatic fashion, like it was tortuous to have to walk. I had a feeling she was going to grow up and be a little bit of a drama queen. I looked at Michael before I left with little Miss. I wanted to warn him to tread lightly, but I felt like I didn’t need to by the obvious look of regret on his face.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “We’ll wait for you boys outside,” I responded.

  “We won’t be long.”

  Mia filled me in on the way outside. “Daddy said he was sorry and that he was just tired. Then he let me take the peaches off the grill,” she added excitedly. We reached the deck, and she was easily distracted by the sail boats. She switched gears on me. “Can we go on a boat?’

  “Not this year, baby.”

  “Aww.”

  Thankfully she seemed to get over her disappointment quickly.

  I grabbed a shrimp and ate it. I was still starving, and my body was demanding food.

  The boys were only a few minutes before they came out with Michael’s arm around Ashton. Ashton was cautiously smiling. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he seemed settled. The table was square, so Michael sat across from me, and the kids were in between. I glanced at Michael as soon as he was seated. He looked troubled and confused. I couldn’t help but want to make him feel better, no matter what he was putting us all through.

  “Are you ok?” I mouthed.

  “Let’s eat. I’m hungry,” he said out loud. He completely ignored my question.

  The kids both agreed and began reaching for the delectable food that was at arm’s reach. As I filled my plate, I continued to look Michael’s way. He was doing his best to not look at me.

  “I want to bless the food,” Mia yelled out.

  Michael and I both agreed that she could, even though we knew we would be eating much later. She had a tendency to thank God for everything, which was a good thing normally, but not when your blood sugar was steadily dropping. Tonight’s prayer even included the little guppies she saw in the water. But then heartbreakingly she asked God to please let daddy come home. I couldn’t help it. I opened my now blurry eyes. Michael’s were open too and looking at mine. I think if he could have gracefully exited, he would have. He was uncomfortable as he watched me wipe at my eyes. I didn’t hear what else Mia rattled on about, I just didn’t want the kids to see I had been crying. Michael chose to ignore me again and just closed his eyes.

  I looked up to the sky and begged to know what to do. I was so tired of this.

  Dinner tasted wonderful, but I had been hoping for a much more relaxed and fun atmosphere in which to enjoy it. I let the kids and Michael direct the conversation. I tried to be lighthearted and happy when I addressed my kiddos, but I was tired of trying to hold it together and keep up the brave face. I was almost glad dinner was over quickly.

  I began grabbing dishes as soon as it was over and walking them back to the kitchen.

  “I’ve got it covered,” Michael said.

  “Why don’t you just take the kids out for ice cream or something.”

  “Ok … if that’s what you want.”

  I just nodded my head yes.

  With the promise of ice cream, it took the kids all of two seconds to slip on their sandals and run to the door.

  Michael kept looking between me at the sink and the kids at the door like he didn’t know what he should do. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” he asked.

  “I’m sure. You guys have fun.”

  “Do you want me to bring you back anything?”

  I shook my head no.

  The kids were clamoring to leave, but for some reason Michael still looked undecided. I just wanted to be alone. I could feel my eyes burning. I just wanted to cry in peace. He started to walk to the door, but he quickly changed his mind and came back toward me. I set down the pan I was starting to rinse off. Now I was confused.

  He lightly brushed my cheek with his lips. I could barely feel the roughness of his ever present facial growth. The tears didn’t wait. A single tear leaked from the corner of my eye. I just turned back to the pan and did my best to contain the rest.

  “I’ll see you guys later,” I said overly cheerful.

  “We won’t be long,” Michael replied.

  I couldn’t look at him. If I did, there would be no stopping the flood that was begging to be let loose. As soon as they left and the door shut, it was like the dam burst. I leaned over the sink and just let it all out. In the midst of the anguished cries and heaving, I prayed for strength and courage. Courage to do what, I wasn’t sure. Should it be to stay or to walk away?

  Chapter 10

  After ten minutes or so, I calmed down enough to finish the dishes and clean the kitchen. As soon as I was finished, I made a beeline for my room. I needed to hide the evidence of my moment of weakness. I was becoming a pro at it. I kept eye drops that got rid of redness handy at all times. I also applied a cool washcloth to my eyes. By the time they returned, I was sitting contentedly on the couch reading my book. I was all smiles as they walked in and greeted me.

  Michael directed the kiddos to go and get ready for bed, then he joined me on the couch, pulling out, from behind his back, a chocolate milkshake. “It still looks like you could stand to gain some weight. Doctor’s orders, right?”

  I smiled and took the Styrofoam cup from his hand. “Thank you.” I didn’t delay in tasting the sweet concoction. It really was what the doctor ordered. I felt better instantly. Or maybe it was the concern and love my husband was showing me that made me feel better. I was guessing the latter.

  He smiled. “Is it good?”

  “It’s perfect. Do you want to try some?” I leaned the cup toward him.

  He grinned and took a small sip before standing back up. “You stay here and finish that and I’ll put the kids to bed.”

  “Deal,” I said between sips.

  Within minutes my pajama-clad kiddos were kissing and hugging me goodnight and then marching off to bed. I sat there on the couch and listened to them giggle while enjoying the rest of my shake. Michael always made any story come to life when he read it out loud.

  After half an hour, he returned and paused in the hallway that led to the living area. He looked good standing there with his tanned arms and legs peeking out of his cargo shorts and t-shirt. It was like neither of us knew what to do now. It was so sad; months ago there wouldn’t have been any question what to do on vacation after the kids were asleep. But now, here we were being all first-date awkward, looking at one another like unsure, pimple-infested teenagers.

  I took a deep breath. “Do you still want that backrub?” What was I thinking? Was I just begging him to reject me again?

  His eyes narrowed, and he slightly bent his head. But he hurried over like if he thought about it anymore, he would chicken out. He sat in front of me, nestled between my legs and threw off his shirt.

  Nice, I thought.

  I handed him the TV remote. “Choose whatever you want.” I went to work on his tense and knotted back and neck. I started at the small of his back and at first touch his body broke out in goose bumps. I still have the touch, I thought. I didn’t linger long in that area, I knew he carried all of his stress in his shoulders and neck, so that’s where I spent a majority of my time. As I kneaded and massaged his back, I held back the urge to kiss his neck and work my way forward. Instead, I tried to pay attention to the action movie he had foun
d, but it was no use. Not even Robert Downey Jr. could help me keep my eyes and thoughts off of my husband. I could tell he was enjoying it, too, and perhaps his mind was elsewhere.

  After several minutes he reached up and grabbed my hands. “I think that will do it.”

  He quickly threw his shirt back on. I couldn’t help it. I laughed a little. This was so dumb. We were married, after all. I remember when I was the shy, coy one—the one that had to tell him no, that I was waiting for marriage and there was no way he could persuade me. He couldn’t believe he had met such an “old fashioned” girl, but I sweetly remember him telling me on our wedding night how honored he was and how much he admired my innocence.

  “Why are you laughing?” he asked from the other side of the couch where he was now sitting.

  I just shook my head and picked up my book again. “Nothing at all, Bishop.”

  I went back to reading. It was apparently the only romance I would be getting tonight and maybe forever. But as I read, I could feel his eyes on me, which made it hard to concentrate. It was also show time for the baby. I knew this kid was going to come out with his or her days and nights mixed up. Something to look forward to, I thought. Actually, I was looking forward to it. I ached to feel that baby in my arms. As the baby put on its nightly gymnastic routine, I shifted to find a more comfortable position.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Oh yes, this is just the baby’s favorite time of day.”

  He moved closer to me, and I set my book down and looked over. He seemed hesitant. He reached out toward my midsection. “Do you mind?”

  I took his hand, which still bore the simple white gold band I placed on it over ten years ago, and positioned it to where he would most likely feel the movements. I kept my hand resting on top of his as we waited. It didn’t take long for him to feel his baby.

  He smiled up at me. “This one packs a punch. I’m thinking boy.”

  I laughed. “I don’t know, I’ve been thinking girl. She feels feisty, like Mia.”

  A sexy grin spread across his handsome face. “I don’t know if the world can handle any more Bishop women.”

  “Are we really all that bad?”

  The grin was gone, but the sexy was still there, as he leaned in closer and slid his hand across my abdomen and rested it on the other side of me. His face was now just an inch from mine. I reached up and ran my hand across his cheek and just held it there.

  He moved closer and his lips were just about touching mine. “You have no idea,” he said against my lips that ached to be one with his.

  My heart was racing like it had the first time he had kissed me on the ski slopes in Breckenridge. The anticipation was palpable, and I was impatient. I had waited months for this. I closed the minute distance and let my lips rest upon his. That was all the invitation he needed. He parted my lips hungrily and urgently kissed me as I wrapped my hands up in his hair. For a moment, it was like he couldn’t drink me in quick enough, and I gasped as soon as his lips finished with mine only to find their way to my neck. I reached behind his neck too, and pulled him closer.

  As his lips explored every inch of my neck and face, I made a critical error.

  “I love you, Bishop,” I whispered.

  He abruptly stopped and moved over. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said through staggered breathing.

  I leaned back toward him, still breathing hard as well. I took his face in my hands. “This is exactly what we should be doing.”

  I began to kiss his lips again. For just a moment, he responded, but then he gently pushed me away. “Please stop, Carly.”

  I jumped up and looked down at him as he leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, his head down.

  “I can’t take this anymore. I’m done,” I said.

  He quickly looked up. “What do you mean, you’re done?”

  “I’m done chasing after you and telling you I love you and humiliating myself. If you want me, you’re going to have to choose me.”

  “Don’t you think if this was as simple as making a choice, I would have already done that?”

  “It is as simple as that. Every day for the last eleven-and-a-half years I’ve chosen to love you. Through the good and the bad and everything in between, even these past months when you’ve been anything but lovable. But I’m at my wits’ end. I don’t know what I’ve done, but I don’t deserve this.” I was so angry I couldn’t even cry. I just stood there looking down at him as he stared up not responding. I threw my hands up in the air and then hastily grabbed my book and marched out to the deck. I threw myself on a lounge chair and just focused on breathing in and out as I listened to the waves. I think I was forgetting what it was like not to feel stressed out, angry or hurt. I was trying so hard to just be ok and make it all ok for the kids, but this wasn’t ok. I rested my book on my now built in body shelf and closed my eyes. The only thing I tried to feel was the cool sea breeze as it drifted across me. It wasn’t working well. I just felt angry and confused. I thought more about my agreement with him to delay any divorce talk until after the baby was born, but I kept wondering if that was wise. It seemed inevitable at this point, and that thought that made me cry.

  I’m not sure how long I stayed out there, but I never ended up reading my stupid book. What was the point anyway? I knew the ending would be a manufactured “happy” ending. What the books never tell you is what happens after the story, the story where the husband grows tired of his wife and leaves her with three children and a broken heart. The story where the woman is left grappling for answers and pained with self-doubt and an overwhelming sense of loss and failure. Of course, they never made stories like that because who in their right mind would want to read such misery?

  My back began to ache from the stiff chair, so I decided it was time to go to bed. I stood up and stretched and looked over the now empty beach. I heard laughter and the clang of glasses coming from the couple above us. I quickly went in before I overheard anything else. I wasn’t in the mood to hear the sound of happy couples. I walked in to find the only source of light on was the hall light. The T.V. was off and Michael was lying on the couch. I wasn’t sure if he was asleep as his face was toward the back, but either way I wasn’t going to say anything. I walked to bed alone.

  I woke up to the sound of a blender. Without thinking, I rushed out of the bedroom with visions of food splattered everywhere, or worse, cut off fingers, but thankfully no one was screaming. I came around the corner with my heart pounding to find Michael and the kids in the kitchen.

  Mia was the first to see me. “Mommy!”

  She ran to me, and I carefully picked her up and snuggled her. “What are you doing up already?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell you,” she whispered conspiratorially.

  “Ok,” I whispered back. I kissed her cheek and set her down.

  She ran off to her daddy and brother in the kitchen.

  Michael looked my way from the sink. “Good morning,” he said.

  I ran my hand through my hair. “Good morning. What are you guys up to this morning?”

  “You’re ruining the surprise, mom,” Ashton said.

  Michael winked at me. “Why don’t you go back to bed.”

  I got the hint and turned around and went right back to where I had come from. Ok, maybe not right back. I was pregnant, after all, and I think this baby lived on my bladder. After I was done in the bathroom, I crawled right back into bed and waited patiently. While I waited, I thought more about my husband and the situation I found myself in. When he behaved somewhat like his old self, like he was this morning, it confused me. I was having a hard time reconciling between his dual personalities. I felt like I didn’t know what was real anymore.

  It didn’t take long for breakfast to arrive. Michael carried a tray with an egg-white omelet and toast with one of the white roses from the bouquet he bought last night. He looked so sweet as he approached me. Why couldn’t we just be together? Ashton was carrying what looked lik
e a strawberry smoothie of some sort, and Mia carried lemon water. Both my children were beaming. Michael lightly set down the tray on my shrinking lap and the kids placed each glass of liquid on my nightstand.

  “For me?” I exclaimed. “I’m so surprised. Thank you!”

  I wasn’t fooling anyone, but I really was touched by the thoughtfulness. Michael directed the kids to go get their swimsuits on while he talked to me. He carefully sat near my legs on the bed as I dug into the yummy food.

  “About last night…” he began.

  I swallowed and looked up at him.

  “Let’s just put a pin in it and discuss it when I get back from Birmingham. This is my last day here and I don’t want to spoil it.”

  My shoulders dropped. “Bishop, I’m beginning to feel like a pin cushion.” I pointed between the two of us. “We can’t just keep pushing this off.”

  He took my hand in his. “I know, and when I get back from this trip, you and I will talk and try to work this out. But for today, let’s just put it aside and enjoy our last day together on the beach.”

  Those charming eyes of his made me say and do the dumbest things. That’s how I found myself on the beach, confused as ever, pretending that everything was grand. The kids definitely enjoyed the day with their daddy, so I guess my faking-it was worth it. I think Michael could tell, but I knew he was just relieved that he was off the hook once again.

  After dinner, the kids quickly became upset when they realized it was time for daddy to leave. He was driving to Birmingham and would be gone again for most of the week. He was reporting on overcrowding in the prison system. It sounded riveting.

  Mia begged him to stay and wouldn’t let go of his neck. Ashton just stayed by my side, but his whole body reflected that of a sad boy, slumped shoulders and head down. It would be my job, once again, to help them through this. They hadn’t behaved this way in some time, but this was the first time in months they had spent this much time with him. I think they thought everything would go back to normal, but unfortunately, this was the new normal.