Twelve Years and a Wake up

We ended up working out a compromise of sorts. It wasn't like we were newlyweds again, but the sex was more than I'd seen in the last five years. Now there was no reason to date anymore and I was thinking there was even an outside chance we just might want to take another shot at it.

The last month was hard on all of us. The kids were excited about their new sister or brother and Heather was as big as a house. She had one more week to work and would spend the rest of her pregnancy waiting for the baby to be born.

Both of our parents were excited about the new grandbaby and it looks like I was the only one not totally on board. "Are you going to be in the delivery room?" she asked while we were cleaning up after dinner one night.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Well you've been in there for all our other kids and I'd like you there when our baby is born."

I was going to say your baby but I guess we were both pretty tired of the cheap shots by now and she knew what I was thinking anyway.

"Sure why not, what else do I have to do anyway? This way if it comes out black we can save the expense of a DNA test." The tears came and she took one look at me and left, waddling off to our bedroom.

I followed her. "I'm sorry for the cheap shot, it was uncalled for," I said as she cried face down on our bed. "I know you're as anxious as I am about this being over and if you want I'll be there." She smiled for once and said she'd like that.

The baby was suppose to be born mid October but when she went over three weeks she got concerned. The doctor wasn't worried and told us due dates are an approximate not set in stone, something about the baby being in control. There was no real sex anymore but being woken up for work with a blowjob most morning sent me out of the house with a big smile on my face.

Why do babies insist on being born in the middle of the night? My parents got the call at one forty five to come over and watch the kids while I stuffed Heather into our minivan.

"Relax, breathe," is what I said all the way to the hospital. I can't say we were old hands at it, because it had been a number of years, but there weren't too many surprises. Labor was still a bitch, there were never enough drugs according to my wife, and I was sure I was going to have her fingerprints on my forearm for the next year or so.

The cry of our baby girl signaled the end to our ordeal. I was tired but Heather was wiped out as they laid the baby on her chest. Well she wasn't brown, or black that much was certain. After a minute or so the nurse took her away and my wife was headed to the recovery room. I stepped out into the hall and started making phone calls.

"What did you name her?" my mom asked me and for the first time I realized in all these months we'd never talked about names. I'd always referred to it as HER baby while she'd reply OUR baby but we'd never actually talked about names. Well that was another issue to resolve.

Dark hair, a small nose and a chubby face, she looked like almost every other baby in the nursery. How can mothers and grandmothers say whom she looked like at this stage of the game? Could I tell if it was my kid? Not a chance in hell. When a doctor came up and asked if he could take a swab sample I already knew what it was for.

Mixed feelings is what I had, waiting for Heather to be assigned a room. The DNA test could take up to a week, so the baby would be home before we got the test results. I had to put my doubts and feelings aside. It wasn't the new baby's fault, and even if it wasn't mine, she had never been asked to be born into this mess.

Heather was tired and everyone and their brother being there didn't help. At about seven o'clock I kicked everyone out. My parents would be watching the kids for another night and for the first time we were alone with the baby.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" my beaming wife said, kissing her forehead. I was waiting for her to say something like, "she has your eyes," or the like but I think she knew that she had better cool it at least for now.

"Your parents dropped off the new crib they bought and are putting that and the changing table together tomorrow. I'm going to move the bed over to the other wall so we'll have plenty of room for everything."

We talked for another half hour but never discussed what was on both our minds.

"We're going to have to pick out a name pretty soon, they're asking me what we want on her birth certificate," I told my wife, looking for a little guidance.

"We've got plenty of time, I'm just thankful she's healthy." I hadn't seen her that happy in a long time.

A peck on the lips and I was out of there. I had a ton of things to do regardless of what might happen down the road.

That night, while I lay in bed, I couldn't take my eyes off the baby furniture. I don't know if I was worn down or just tired, but I was actually looking forward to having our baby girl home with us.

I took the kids to meet their new sister the next day and told them that they'd have to be extra good when we brought her home. When they asked what we'd named her, I told them we were still thinking about names and asked for their suggestions. Most of the names wouldn't work but they did come up with one I liked, Brittney.

By the fourth day everyone was now at home. Our bedroom was already rearranged, a ton of baby food and diapers were in stock, and everything was in turmoil. As I said, everything was normal. We had a good weekend with baby Brittney.

I didn't say a word to anyone on Monday about the baby. Work was a little hectic in the morning but by the afternoon everything had straightened itself out. On my way home I stopped at Subway and picked up dinner for everyone, I was looking forward to a quiet evening.

Her parents were just leaving as I pulled onto the driveway. I unloaded the bag of food on the kitchen counter and went looking for my family. I found everyone in our bedroom playing with the baby. I stopped at the door and just watched as my kids laughed while my wife played with Brittney's small feet.

"They're so tiny," David said touching them with his finger.

"You were that small at one time and look how big you are now." My heart melted watching the four of them. I snuck back downstairs and made a much louder entrance this time.

"Who's ready for dinner?" I shouted sticking my head around the corner.

"Me, me," was all they said running down the stairs.

"Give me a minute while I put Brittney down and then I'll join you," my wife said smiling at me. Life was pretty good right now.

Everyone was talking, all at once, about everything. With dinner done, Heather went upstairs to take care of the baby while the kids and I did the dishes. Since we'd used paper plates, it was easy as everything went into the trash. A few games and it was time for lights out. A story, a little horseplay and a hug and kiss and they were down for the count.

"I didn't think they'd ever settle down," I said getting ready for bed and watching my wife breast-feeding the baby. I brushed, flossed and walked back into our bedroom just as she was laying her down in the crib.

"I'm going to miss what we've had over the last couple of months," she said. "We were almost back to the way we were when we first got married." The look on her face was expressionless. "I would have bet my life on it that you were the father but I guess I was drunker than I thought that night because I really don't remember it even happening." She handed me an official looking letter. I started reading it but it was all mumbo jumbo until the last paragraph that said basically that there was no chance I was the father of Brittney.

"Heather..." I started to say but she held up her hand to stop me.

"I already know what you're going to say, so you don't even have to. I've signed the divorce papers and they're sitting on your desk downstairs in the den. If you can find a qualified buyer for the house go for it, I won't stand in your way anymore. Brittney and I are moving in with my parents tomorrow so you won't have to look at us anymore. My mom will get the kids off to school in the morning and you can pick them up at her house on your way home from work. I'm so damn sorry but I'm glad it's finally over, at least one of us will be able to move on with their life." At that she walked out of the bedroom and went downstairs, probably to the den.

Numb and in shock, that's what I was. In the back of my mind I thought this might happen but thinking about it and having it actually happen are two different things. We were good now damn it. Why the fuck was this happening to me for Christ's sakes. I sat on the bed and for the next half hour I cried like a fucking baby covering my mouth when I got too loud so as to not wake up Brittney.

The rest of the night I lay on my back, on my bed, feeling sorry for myself and trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do next. By five-thirty I had no answers other than I couldn't stay here and face Heather this morning. I felt like a dishrag that had been wrung out one too many times.

I showered but forgot to shave or brush my teeth. I didn't make coffee, get the kids breakfast ready or even pickup the newspaper on the step. I just left. I needed to get as far away from here and as fast as I could right now.

On autopilot I made it to work and grabbed myself a cup of coffee. By nine o'clock it was cold and I was still sitting at my chair with my jacket on. On my phone I could see that there were three messages but I hadn't even heard it ring. At ten o'clock my secretary replace my cold cup of coffee with a fresh one and asked if there was anything she could do.

"No, I don't think anyone can fix this now." I woke up and went to work.

When I got home Heather and the baby were gone. She'd left a note on the door that said she'd like to keep the kids tonight so she could talk to them but I could pick them up tomorrow. It wasn't even signed.

Going upstairs to our bedroom I saw that everything was gone, the baby's new furniture, her clothes, and all of her personal items from the bathroom. I walked into our kid's rooms and they were as they'd left them this morning, beds unmade and their pajamas thrown on the floor.

I didn't eat Monday night and what surprised me the most, was I didn't drink myself into a stupor, but probably should have. My brain was overloading itself and it just hurt. I wanted to feel nothing. I wanted to sleep. I wanted this nightmare to go away but that wasn't going to happen.

Tuesday I talked to the kids myself and between all the tears we made it through the night together. The rest of the week was a blur and the weekend gave me nothing but time to think and that was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. After three weeks I was tired, drained but still alive.

I was right; kids are resilient. We got into a schedule and stuck to it at all costs. As long as I knew what I had to do I could function without too much trouble. Sometime during the first month I found a letter with my name on it lying on the kitchen counter. I knew who it was from and that's where it ended up staying, unopened.

My Mom and my mother in law were lifesavers, as they did what I couldn't do. I was coming back to reality a bit and piece at a time but was a far cry from where I had been just a couple of months ago. Back then I had all the answers; as I said it's easy until the 'what if's' becomes reality. Anger, I had more than my share, but when I let it loose it frightened my children so I kept it in check or punched a wall when they weren't looking.

My neighbors? With the exception of my next-door neighbor Ken and his wife Pam, they all stayed away. I was invited to their get togethers but never went. I once saw Sue and her husband in the mall and my anger flared up as I thought about punching him out again. They moved across the aisle and kept their distance, but even at twenty feet I could see the scar on the front of his nose; I smiled at them both.

With everything in black and white and agreed upon, in ninety days I was single again. Everything was split down the center including joint custody of our kids. I hadn't spoken to Heather since that night and with our parents handling the kids, there was no need to. Our only big problem was that the house didn't sell.

I dropped the selling price twice and still there were no takers. It was probably still overpriced but I wasn't going to give it away, we really could have used that money to pay off everything.

David and Megan were doing well. They had finally accepted the fact that we were no longer a family but since they saw their mother and new sister most days, it became their normal. I handled the school functions and most of the other activities and every once in a while I thought I caught a glimpse of Heather.

Work was going well, or as well as can be expected in a down economy, and I had the distinction of now being the catch of the office, though only because I was the only unmarried guy there. I dated a few women and even got laid more than my share but being single wasn't what it was cracked up to be, especially with two little ones at home. Guys in the neighborhood set me up with friends and God forbid relatives, but nothing came of it. It was too soon and raw I'd usually tell them, to get out of it. The only thing that didn't change was the position of that envelope on the counter.

It was now over a year and even though Heather's Mom hadn't said a word about her or the baby, I think she was dying to say something. I know my mother was. But we had an official agreement that under pain of death Heather and Brittney were never to be brought up in my presence and they kept their word. Hell, I heard all I needed to from my two kids, more than I really wanted to know since they saw their mother and stepsister most days at their grandparent's house after school.

At fourteen months and six days Heather's Mom had a stroke. She almost died and her days of baby-sitting were now over. I visited her often in the hospital and somehow missed seeing Heather all those times. My mother took over the baby-sitting duties but that proved to be too much for her. We needed to figure out something else.

"Heather, this is Steve, do you have a minute to talk?" is how our conversation started. I told her how sorry I was about her mother and said that if there was anything I could do to help to just ask.

"As you know Mom has been taking care of the kids but it's not working and we're going to need to figure out something else. Can we get together and you know, talk about it or something?"

I don't know what she was thinking but I had to literally pull an answer out of her.

"I guess I can come over say Saturday afternoon. How about two o'clock?"

"That works, and I'll even throw something on the grill and we can have dinner here."

"Steve, you don't have to do that."

"No problem. I'll see you Saturday." That wasn't so bad I thought. We'd been splitting all the expenses since day one but that was the first real conversation we'd had since that night. I was feeling pretty proud of myself.

David and Megan both didn't see it as anything special. They saw their mother all the time so what was the big deal about her coming over for dinner? I on the other hand was a bundle of nerves.

I dressed casual and made sure the house was clean. I hadn't changed the locks and wasn't sure what type of reception I was going to get. She rang the bell and then let herself in after I yelled the door was open from the back patio.

She was thinner; her hair had grown out and she had on little or no makeup compared to what she used to wear. She wasn't out to impress me it seems. She brought a pie and put it on the kitchen counter before asking if I had any diet soda.

"Everything you could want is in the refrigerator," I said dragging out the umbrella for the picnic table on the back deck. "I figure we can eat out here tonight if that's okay with you?"

"That sounds fine," she said with little or no inflection in her voice. With the kids playing video games in the den, I asked her if she had any ideas on what to do.

"I've thought about a couple but how about you?"

"Well, I first thought about a nanny," I said going over to the refrigerator grabbing a beer, "but since it's only an hour or so in the morning and only a couple hours in the evening, no one is going to want those few hours and if they do, we won't be able to afford them. Then I asked around the neighborhood to see if anyone knew someone who might like a couple of hours of baby sitting but I drew a blank again." I took a long drink from my bottle. "If I could just change my hours that would solve the morning problem but we still had the problem with after school. I could probably trust the kids at home for thirty minutes by themselves, but a couple of hours was out of the question." I was drawing a blank.

"I've got an idea but you probably won't like it," Heather said looking right at me.

"Well it has to be better than what I've come up with so far."

"I wouldn't be so sure until you hear what it is."

"Well shoot and we'll hash it over."

"Well, you know mom is going to need a lot of rehab and dad is going to have his hands full from now on. I've been toying with the idea of finding my own place; you know to get out of their hair. You've got an empty basement and if we could fix it up a bit, Brittney and I could move in down stairs and that would solve all our problems."

My brain was still at, "You've got an empty basement."

"Don't you want to be, you know, on your own?"

"Steve, we're still making house payments and although we've cut out all the extras, money is still tight. I can find a place but with that and child care we're going to be back where we were a year and a half ago." My mouth wasn't functioning.

She got up, got another can of soda, and then she noticed it. I wasn't trying to hide it; I'd almost forgotten it was even there, it had become such a fixture on my counter. She picked up the envelope, looked to see if it had been opened and then put it back down where it had been.

"Well, think about what I said and if you can come up with a better idea let me know."

"Heather, I'm not sure that would work."

"I said you wouldn't like it, but until we sell this house we're both kind of stuck, and it's not like we've never lived together." She was right about that one but I didn't particularly care for the memories of her final day here.

"Let's eat and we can talk more after dinner."

I'd put two racks of ribs on the grill that were cooking nicely and had corn on the cob boiling on the stove. She helped put together a tossed salad and with thirty minutes we were all sitting around the table.

"How is work going?" I asked biting into a butter soaked corn.

"Good, but I had to cut back on my hours since mom got sick. I just want to make sure I don't piss them off and get laid off, that I couldn't afford right now."

"They wouldn't do that, you've been with them for years."

"Steve, in this economy no one's job is safe. We had to cut three girls just after the first of the year. Thank God I know how to do everything in the office or I might have been one of them that got cut. How about you?"

"Surprisingly we're doing pretty good. Business is down but better than it was last year. I think if we can make it through this year we're home free."

"You don't know how lucky you are."

"Lucky, yeah right!" I thought to myself. I was once.

I cleaned up the food while Heather put the dishes in the dishwasher. David and Megan took in food and put everything in the refrigerator. I burned off the excess drippings and food on the grill and gave the racks a once over with my wire brush. I lowered the umbrella and that was about it.