Chapter 17
Kyle
Ibounce Lucinda on my hip while setting the dinner table with one hand.
James arrived home from work an hour ago, but he’s spent all that time in his study.
Lucinda’s eleven months old now and the centre of my world, but James doesn’t help much.
It’s been rough, and we’ve been arguing a lot.
He’s changed so much since she was born, and, while I hate to say it, I think it stems from Lu being my biological child.
When we selected a donor egg and a surrogate, we spent many hours discussing whose sperm we would use.
We settled on mixing them together so nature could decide.
For our second child, whoever wasn’t the father of the first would be their biological parent.
It seemed like a fair and practical solution.
But, on the day of the birth, when little Lucinda emerged with blonde hair and pale blue eyes the exact shade of my own, the look of disappointment on James’s face, followed by resentment, was unmistakable.
Back in the kitchen, I put Lucinda down and start plating the food.
I love her more than I thought was humanly possible, but I think it’s time to go back to work part-time.
I need something for myself. I need contact with other adults, and to stimulate my brain.
But there’s a problem—James is categorically against it.
He doesn’t even like me to leave the house anymore.
He expects me to be the stay-at-home dad, doing one hundred percent of the housework and child rearing. When I suggested a few days in childcare, he reminded me we didn’t have a child to hand her over to strangers.
It made me feel like shit. Every argument I’ve put forward in favour of me returning to work has been shot down.
Full-time parenting is tiring. Night-time feeds, barely any sleep, and constant cleaning, has left me with zero energy to fight James on any of our problems. And I’m scared I’ll relapse.
Scared I’ll fall into depression or become manic and end up the worst damn father.
My greatest fear is hurting or neglecting Lu.
I also don’t have anyone to help because, over the last year, James has treated my siblings like absolute shit. Now they no longer visit. When I suggest visiting them, James starts an argument and says that Lucinda shouldn’t be exposed to the Davies’ ways. Whatever the hell that means.
I bring James’s plate out to the dining table and slide Lu into her highchair. “James, dinner is ready,” I call out, then return to the kitchen to grab my plate.
Once we’re all seated, I take a deep breath and try again. “James, I made a few calls and there’s an opening at my old branch in Kew. They’re happy for me to return part-time, which would only be three night shifts a week.”
“We’ve been over this, Kyle.” James stops eating and glares at me. “There’s no need for you to go back to work. Enjoy being at home with the baby. I earn more than enough for our family.”
“But I really miss working and Lu will be fine if I do night shifts. She’ll be asleep most of the time. She won’t even know I’m gone.”
James drops his knife and fork down onto his plate, startling Lu.
“But we’ll need to hire a nanny to look after her.
She still wakes in the night, and I need my sleep.
Plus, I don’t have time to do the bedtime or morning routine.
And then you’ll need to sleep when you get home, so who will look after her then? ”
“Honey, come on. You’re being unreasonable. I can nap with Lu during the day. I can make it work.”
Lu grizzles in her highchair, her legs kicking furiously as she holds her arms out for me. I hate the way she cries when we argue, and this conversation is quickly heading in that direction.
“Sounds to me like you want to get away from her. Maybe you’re more like your parents than you think. Lu’s not even a year old yet and you already want to neglect her.”
Of all the fucking things James could say.
I stand up and take my plate to the kitchen, my appetite gone. While I’m in there, Lu begins to cry.
James calls out, voice thick with irritation. “Kyle, Lucinda needs you and I’m still eating.”
I return, lifting her out of the highchair and bouncing her on my hip. James doesn’t even look at me, or his daughter, so I leave the room without another word.
I haven’t spoken to James since the argument at dinner, and I wish I could curl up in Lu’s crib rather than sleep next to him.
But the cold hard truth is that I’ll put up with almost anything if it means she’ll have the opportunities I never did.
And James is a good provider. Lu will never be hungry or wear hand-me-downs.
She’ll never need to steal or want for anything. And she will never, ever, be neglected.
Memories from my childhood cross my mind: going without food, told to go away by my parents, sick with no medicine, and winters without a coat.
James is probably right, and I shouldn’t return to work. Kids do need a parent at home. Someone to drop them at school and be there with a smile at the end of the day, to read them bedtime stories and take them on playdates.
Maybe I wouldn’t cope with the pressure of both work and parenting. I can always go back to work when she starts school. Lu deserves the world.
Yes, James is right. I was being selfish. I’ll stay home.