“Mais no, I have already completed five home transformations!” I gulped. That means he had seen other houses and mine was the worst.
“And my house was the messiest so far?” I squeaked.
François tapped my shoulder the way someone would try to comfort a potentially volatile person.
“Zere, zere, Ashley. It’s not a competition.”
Actually, it was. And $100,000 plus my pride was on the line.
François puttered off to consult with Shelly about the placement of the new furniture. I couldn’t bring myself to look at it quite yet. Not when it symbolized the potential destruction of my husband’s trust in me. As I walked upstairs to change Aubrey, I passed a Happy Maid pushing my bed away from the wall to vacuum. We’re supposed to do that? Move furniture to clean?
Once Aubrey was changed, I packed her diaper bag and sat on the front porch with her while she devoured a bag of crackers. It felt so weird to have people in my home. François assured me that he would stay until the last person left and lock up. “You are going to be dazzled when you return.” I had to admit that I was excited.
Aubrey shoved another cracker into her mouth and greedily gummed it until it dissolved.
“She might eat more at meals if she didn’t snack so much,” a voice said. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was.
“Hello, Gloria.” I picked up Aubrey and handed her to Grandma.
Gloria was dressed resort casual in white capris and a brightly colored, flowing button-up top decorated with a tropical jungle print complete with several toucans. Her large white sun hat was tied under her chin.
Aubrey screamed happily as Gloria nuzzled her.
“My sweet girl! What are you eating? Oh, you’re so hungry! Did you have breakfast? You feel lighter. Does she feel lighter to you?”
She bounced Aubrey up and down like a melon.
“She is a little bit lighter but only because I’m starving her,” I joked dryly.
Gloria pursed her lips. She never did appreciate my sarcasm. “Are we ready to go? I can’t wait to spend the day with you!” she squealed, looking at Aubrey.
“It’s going to be fun!” I tried to convince myself, grabbing my diaper bag.
Gloria began walking Aubrey to the car. Thankfully David had installed the car seat the night before. She turned back to me. “Did you remember the diapers? I’d hate for my grandbaby to have to suffer through another panty debacle.”
My face went hot. “Diapers are all here.”
Five minutes later we were rushing down the highway, Gloria in the driver’s seat, me in my own personal Hades.
To Grandmother’s house we go.
When we arrived at Gloria’s house I was prepared to hear Terry yapping away as we walked up to the door, but it was quiet.
She guessed what I was thinking, “He’s at the vet today. Gall bladder surgery. A doggy mommy’s work is never done.”
Gloria opened the front door and Aubrey and I followed her inside David’s childhood home.
The décor was tropical island chic, her favorite. Crystal palm trees from every vacation spot she’d ever been to, paintings of beaches with white sand and little dancing figurines that shook their hips when touched could be seen in every corner. It looked more like a hotel gift shop than a home. It had been many years since Mr. Keller had passed away, but Gloria had kept the massive three-story house rather than moving into a condo like David begged her to, and no wonder—half of her things would have to go into storage.
I set the diaper bag on the floor near the stairs. Aubrey put her hands in the air toward her grandmother, begging her to come get her.
“I have a treat for my little princess!” Gloria sang, as she whisked Aubrey into her arms and took her into the family room.
I followed them and heard Aubrey scream in delight. When I rounded the corner, before me was a three-foot by three-foot by three-foot plastic multicolored cube of flashing lights, whirring parts and spinning tops.
“It’s the BabyBox!” declared Gloria. “Have you heard of it?”
My mouth hung agape. Yes, I’d heard of it. It was listed on VillageofMommies as the most obnoxious toy of the year. It was twenty-seven cubic feet of migraine-inducing noise and seizure-inspiring lights, had only one volume level and was known to turn on spontaneously in the dead of night. It was designed as an interactive toy for toddlers—there were buttons to push and levers to pull all around the cube—but I’d made a mental note to never own one because it broke my number-one toy rule: never own a toy louder than your child. It was also HUGE.
“Wow, Gloria...” I struggled to find the words. “This is so neat!”
I bent down to sit on the floor next to Aubrey. She poked a bright blue button and a song erupted like an outbreak of herpes. “WE LOVE SHAPES! SHAPES LOVE US! SHAPES ARE FUN SO FUN SO FUN!”
This was the kind of music that, when played backward, said things like, “Get a knife. Kill kill kill.” There was no way this was coming home with us.
Gloria clapped her hands, “This one is for my house.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I bought one for yours, too. You still have to put it together, though.”
She pointed to an enormous box in the corner that looked like it contained several thousand individual parts.
Why me? Why?
“Thanks, Gloria. Aubrey seems to really love it.”
“I’ll go check on lunch. I have minestrone soup in the slow cooker. Slow-cooker meals are really easy, Ashley. Even for people with not a lot of experience in the kitchen. I’ll give you the recipe,” she said, walking into the kitchen.
I gritted my teeth. Aubrey pushed another button. “SQUARE! RED SQUARE! YOU DID IT! HOORAY!”
At home Aubrey’s attention span lasts ten seconds and she floats from toy to me to another toy to me so quickly I get dizzy. But when it came to the Hell Cube, she played with it for a solid hour and a half until it was time for lunch. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I’d just have to figure out a way to disable the sound. I could already feel a headache coming on from the incessant noise.
I rooted around my purse for an aspirin. I’d never been so happy to hear someone say, “Lunchtime!”
Gloria insisted that we eat in the formal dining room and had set three places.
“Are you expecting someone?” I said, looking at the third plate and flatware.
Gloria picked up Aubrey and placed her on the chair in front of an adult bowl, plate, fork, knife and glass. An actual glass.
“If you train children to sit at the table, it encourages good eating habits,” she said, in a kindergarten teacher tone.
I said nothing and sat down, placing the beige linen napkin on my lap. I decided to let the natural consequences play out. Of course, I’d make sure Aubrey didn’t hurt herself with the table knife or the broken glass when she inevitably threw it against the wall like she does with her sippy cup for every meal, but I wasn’t going to save the day.
Gloria fit a little white bib around Aubrey’s neck. It was the size of a dollar bill. For meals at home, I’ve resorted to stripping Aubrey naked. For a while I used those full-frontal plastic bibs intended for toddlers when fingerpainting to keep her clean, but even that didn’t stop her from mashing a handful of potatoes into her back.
“That’s a very cute bib,” I said pleasantly.
“Now say ahhh,” Gloria instructed, bringing a spoonful of room-temperature soup to Aubrey’s mouth. The spoon contained beans, pasta and green peas swimming in a red broth. The last time I tried to put a mix of foods in Aubrey’s mouth, she spat it directly in my face. This should be interesting. I looked down so that my smile would be concealed.
“Ahhh!” I heard my daughter’s voice say.
My eyes darted upward just in time to see her eat the entire bite, chew it
with her gums, then open her mouth for another.
What kind of witchcraft was this? I watched in disgust and amazement as the process was repeated until Aubrey finished the entire bowl of soup.
“You were a hungry girl, weren’t you!” exclaimed Gloria, placing the bowl and spoon in the sink. “Ashley, you really must attempt this recipe.”
Attempt?
When lunch was all cleaned up, I watched while the two played with the Torture Cube for a few minutes before Gloria announced that she was putting Aubrey down for a nap. I relaxed into the couch. Finally, I’d have some time to myself. Nap time meant twenty minutes of rocking Aubrey before she finally settled down. If Gloria wanted to take that on, she was more than welcome.
I kissed Aubrey on the cheek and handed her to Grandma. “Good luck!”
When I heard Gloria walking back down the steps after two minutes, I stood with a start.
“Do you need some help?” I offered, a smug smile playing across my lips.
“No.” Gloria took a seat on the recliner. “She went right down. She always does when she’s here. It’s all about having a routine.”
“We have a routine,” I muttered, sitting back down.
Now what were we going to talk about? Being alone with Gloria isn’t something I look forward to.
“So, Ashley. How is my David?” she asked innocently.
Why did she always call him “my David”? Of course, he’d always be her son, but the phrase sounded so unnecessarily possessive.
“Your David is fine. He’s a little stressed about the business, but they’ve all but landed a huge account.”
“The DentaFresh account?”
I sat up, startled. How did she know? “Yes, actually.”
Gloria took a sip of her tea. “No, that client went to another company. David called me yesterday. He was really upset. He didn’t tell you?”
My body stiffened. It took everything not to run out of the room and call David immediately. What did she mean he didn’t get the account? And he told his mom, but not me?
“Oh, I must have confused them for another company. My mind is so jumbled these days.” I slowly pulled my phone out of my pocket. “Excuse me. I’m just going to check on how the home makeover is going.”
I ducked into the kitchen and fired off a quick text to David. Did you lose the DentaFresh pitch and not tell me but tell YOUR MOM?
I slid my phone back into my pocket. I walked calmly back into the living room and sat back down.
Gloria cleared her throat. “How is that...bootcamp going? Is it helping much?”
Why didn’t she just say “Is it helping you be less of a screwup?” That’s what she meant, I was sure.
“I’m actually learning a lot,” I said flatly. I’d hoped not offering any other details would mean the end of the conversation. I was more than happy to sit in silence on my phone, like I do at home while Aubrey slept.
“You could have just come to me, of course. I can teach you everything you need to know about raising kids.”
“Yes, you’re very knowledgeable.” I smiled tightly. In my pocket, my phone buzzed.
I discreetly pulled it out. On the screen was a text from David.
I was going to talk to you about it tonight. I didn’t think she’d say anything. Sorry.
That’s all he had to say for himself?
Is everything going to be ok? I texted.
“Tell David I say hi,” sang Gloria.
I looked up and smiled.
We’ll talk about it later, he texted back.
I tucked my phone away again.
“I think I heard Aubrey. I’d better check on her,” I lied, standing up.
“Feel free to lie down in the guest bedroom if you’d like. You should always sleep when the baby sleeps.”
I took her up on the offer and, after peeking in on a peacefully sleeping Aubrey, fell into an exhausted sleep in the Caribbean-themed guest bedroom.
I woke up to Gloria gently whispering my name. “Ashley. Ashley. David is here to pick you up.”
My head swam. What day was it? What time? Where was I?
Gloria read my mind. “It’s 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Aubrey woke up an hour ago and we’ve been playing. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Bless her for that. I must have been exhausted. I rubbed my eyes and reluctantly lifted my head from the soft palm-tree-printed pillow.
“Thanks, Gloria,” I said, putting on my shoes. “I really appreciate it.”
Gloria sat next to me on the bed. “Don’t be mad at David for not telling you. He probably just didn’t want you to worry.”
This wasn’t a conversation I felt comfortable having. “I know.”
“Maybe he’d feel more comfortable talking to you if you didn’t seem so angry all the time...”
I felt my heart skip a beat.
“Angry?”
“Yes, he says you’re always upset and stressed.”
I turned to face her. “He talks about me?” My blood began boiling.
“Just a little. I am his mother.”
And he’s still your baby boy, apparently.
I couldn’t hold back my emotions, they were coming at me faster than I could screen them. “I appreciate you letting me sleep, but please stay out of my marriage.”
Gloria sputtered. “I didn’t get into your marriage. David brought me in when he couldn’t talk to you...”
“Well,” was all I managed to say. With that I stood up and began walking toward the door. I didn’t want to be rude but angry tears had already sprung into my eyes and I wanted to hang on to the few shreds of dignity I had left.
My legs were still struggling to wake up as I made my way down the stairs, and I tripped a little on the bottom step. David’s arm reached out to steady me.
“Hi, Ashley! Did you sleep well?” He was grinning and holding a contented Aubrey.
I shot daggers at him with my eyes. “So you think I’m always angry?”
David shot a pleading glance up the stairs to where his mom was standing.
“She can’t save you now.” I picked up Aubrey’s bag and walked out the door to wait in the car.
When David finished buckling Aubrey into her seat, he turned to me. “Ashley, I just—”
I put up a hand. “Don’t. I’m not talking to you with your mom watching from the window.” I turned toward the house, and sure enough a drape fell where Gloria had been watching.
“Okay, fine.” David turned over the ignition.
When we were a block away, I unleashed.
“How dare you discuss our marriage with your mom? And tell her about the DentaFresh account before me, knowing I was spending the day here? You made me look like an idiot. An angry idiot.”
David kept his eyes on the road and struggled to find the words. “I was just stressed and needed someone to talk to, Ashley...”
“The person you talk to is me. Not your mom.”
“I’d love to talk to you but you’re either complaining, frustrated, angry at me or exhausted from Aubrey,” he spit out.
“And you’re not preoccupied at all? You’re at work almost all the time and when you’re home, you’re relaxing from work. Do you see me ever relaxing? That nap I had was the best rest I’ve gotten in months.”
David erupted. “Yes, I know! You hate your life. I’m failing at work and I’m failing to make you happy. I get it, Ashley! Okay?”
He was practically shaking. I sat, shocked, staring at him.
“I don’t...” I put a hand on his on the steering wheel. “I don’t hate my life... I’m just stressed. And you’re not failing...”
David was quiet for a moment. “Yes, I am, Ashley. We lost the DentaFresh account. It’s o
ver. We’re going to have to sell the house.”
I felt the wind get knocked out of me. I knew things were hard but I didn’t know they were that bad. Sell the house? Where would we live? My blood ran cold. The furniture bill. I still hadn’t told him about the $8,000.
I took a deep breath. “David, I have something to tell you.”
He turned to glance at me. “What is it?”
“The home makeover... I thought I spent a grand on the furniture...”
David clenched his teeth. “Ashley, we don’t have an extra thousand!”
I kept going, determined. “But I really spent $8,000. I put it on my credit card. It’s nonrefundable.” It was true. It was in the fine print.
David slammed the steering wheel with his hand. “Dammit, Ashley! That’s our entire savings. It was going to help us find a rental if we move.”
I felt a tear slide down my cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
David’s shoulders hunched over in utter defeat. “If I don’t get another account, we won’t be able to afford a rental. We’ll probably have to stay with my mom for a while.”
My stomach flip-flopped. “With your mom? For how long?”
“A few months. Hopefully.”
We didn’t speak for the rest of the ride home.
When we arrived at the house, everything was locked up, just as François had promised. The door swung open and all was dark. It wasn’t until David flipped on the light that I saw it. I gasped. It was a whole new house. Everything sparkled and shone.
Even David said “Wow” under his breath. “I’m going to put Aubrey down,” he said gently, before heading upstairs. I could barely reply as I looked around.
It was like walking into one of those home-and-garden magazines. The wooden floors were brighter than I’d ever seen them. I floated into the kitchen and, as the light flooded it, I was dazzled. Nothing was out of place and everything looked so fresh, like it was right off the assembly line. I couldn’t find a speck of grime or a crumb anywhere. I opened a cabinet, and instead of almost being buried in plastic containers falling out, found everything stacked neatly.
I wandered into the living room. The furniture. It was even more beautiful than the catalog had promised. The living room set was perfectly placed and screamed “luxury.” Aubrey’s toys were nowhere to be seen—I lifted up the soft leather ottoman and found them tucked out of sight. They’d even thrown in a large chestnut area rug and several beautiful wooden spheres for the mantel. Was this really my house? I collapsed onto the couch and it supported and hugged my body at the same time. It all certainly looked like $8,000. Or more. I felt like I was in an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, only in a parallel universe where I’d only get to enjoy these things for less than a month before we had to sell them online to afford utilities.
Confessions of a Domestic Failure Page 20