43. Dom
Chapter forty-three
Dom
“ W e’re going to figure out how to fix my marriage…at the zoo?” I ask as Dylan hands wristbands to the rest of the guys at the ticket booth.
Jake, Chris, Dylan, and Aiden crowd around me and the stroller, where Luca is already clapping, pointing, and making elephant sounds as he points to the exhibit signs.
“No, we’re not talking about how you’re going to fix anything. We’re just going to talk,” Jake says, as if it’s obvious.
“ Oookay ,” I reply. Jake planned this guys’ day after our visit to the library. It’s nice to have an extra set of hands around to help with Luca while Ellie’s away, so I’m not going to fight them on this.
I pride myself on being a hands-on dad, but it’s so much easier to parent as a team. It’s all on me right now, minus the visits from friends and family.
Dylan pulls up a map of the zoo on his phone as we walk through the main entrance.
“Have you never been to the zoo?” I ask.
“Uh, no?” Dylan says. “I’m almost thirty, why would I come to the zoo?”
“Dude, you’re missing out. You’re looking at members over here,” I say, pointing a thumb between Luca and me. “One of the gorillas had a baby eight months ago. It’s awesome. Ditch the map. Luca and I are your tour guides today.”
The guys take turns pushing the stroller, offering Luca snacks, even holding Luca’s hand as he teeters from one exhibit to the next. Today is another one of those memories I don’t want to forget. I pester the guys into taking one of the group photos the zoo offers and buy the overpriced picture with a rainforest-themed frame.
We talk as we make our way through the zoo. Aiden and I fill the rest of the group in on what the girls have been up to while on their trip. We catch up on Aiden’s last game and talk about his schedule for the rest of the season. Jake and Chris share their plans with us for their upcoming two-week trip to Europe, and Dylan refuses to update us on his single guy life, mumbling something about how there’s not much to talk about. He ties his longer-than-usual, dark blond hair in a knot at the base of his neck as he denies going on any recent dates.
“You want to talk to someone who’s got a good dating life, seems like you’ve come to the right place,” Dylan says, before letting out a long whistle.
“Oh my god, can they—can they show that here?” Chris whispers with an edge of panic in his voice. “Oh my god, the baby. Close your eyes, Luca!” he shouts, running over to stand in front of the stroller. “Shield him, Jake. Shield the youth’s eyes.”
I turn and see two very enthusiastic gorillas going at it .
“Well, how do you think they got the baby?” I ask.
“Jesus Christ, don’t they have a privacy curtain or something?” Jake asks.
“Huh, just a couple of exhibitionists. Who knew?” Dylan smirks and shrugs, stuffing both hands in his pockets, his sense of humor returning.
“I think it’s making eye contact with me. Let’s get out of here,” Aiden says, before power walking to the next exhibit, looking over his shoulder to make sure he’s not still being watched.
“Maybe he wants an autograph,” Dylan taunts.
The whole thing is so ridiculous, I can’t stop laughing. Thankfully, Luca leaves the exhibit with no idea what happened, too distracted by the toys attached to the stroller buckle .
I guess I have been feeling stressed lately. It’s nice to have this time with the guys without the pressure of talking—
“Okay, ready to talk?” Jake presses.
Fucking hell.
“I thought we weren’t doing that today,” I grumble in reply.
“I said we weren’t talking about how to fix your marriage, and we’re not. We’re talking about you.”
I give him a look. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means that you have spent months trying to decode some mystery quick fix to legitimate marital and mental health struggles. I think we can agree, there is no such thing as a quick fix. So instead, we’re going to listen while you get out whatever is stuck in that brain of yours.”
“Is it really all I talk about?”
“Uh, were you not aware of this?” Aiden asks. “How’s work? You’ve barely mentioned how things have been going this school year.”
“You’re normally excited about summer break by this time,” Chris says. “Are you and Ellie planning a family trip or anything?”
“Have you found any new bands lately? I keep sending you recs and you don’t respond,” Dylan says.
“Did you see Mom and Dad placed first in the local novice ballroom competition they entered? They’re practically begging us to take a class with them,” Jake says. “Which you would know if you’d participate in our group chat.”
“Okay.” I put my hands up in surrender. “Okay.” I chuckle. “I guess it was easy to get wrapped up in the puzzle. Point taken.”
“Good,” Jake says. “Because we won’t ever be able to get to the big stuff, little brother, if you aren’t even talking to us about the normal stuff.”
“When did you get smart?” I ask, ruffling his hair.
He shoves my shoulder, distancing himself and fixing his hair. “Please, I took all the smart genes for myself before you came along. Everyone knows that.”
His answering grin is oddly comforting, even though this entire thing is awkward for me .
Time and energy are both in short supply in our house. It’s easier for me, and I think Ellie, too, to focus on the next thing that needs to be done, forgetting that there’s more to life than what fits perfectly into a schedule.
It’s also easier for us to focus on what other people need. Her trying to be the perfect wife and mom, me trying to be the perfect husband and father, neither of us ever feeling like we’re succeeding. Always falling short of this impossible standard we’ve seemingly set for ourselves.
So, I do what my brother and friends ask. I talk about…myself.
I talk about how my students this year are some of my brightest yet. How they all show genuine interest in history and its impact on today’s world. I leave work feeling inspired because of them and their refreshing and insightful perspective.
I explain that Ellie and I decided to skip out on planning a trip this summer because we want to save up and take Luca to Disney World next year when he’s a little older. I’ve already started researching because planning a trip there feels like a test for a parent on how to maximize your time and budget and still see all your kid’s favorite characters. But you can bet your ass we’ll have matching shirts and get Mickey ears.
I apologize to Dylan, explaining that I haven’t sent him any new bands, because I’m hyperfixated on the one he sent me three months ago.
I confirm that I saw the picture of Mom and Dad holding their trophy but forgot to respond—like an asshole. I can’t remember exactly what happened, but I want to say I was getting Luca into his car seat when I got the text, and then I checked it before we pulled out the parking lot. But a nonmoving car and a kid in a car seat is a dangerous recipe for a tantrum, so I put my phone down quickly, forgetting to send my parents a congratulations text completely, and therefore never accepted or declined their invite to try out a dance class. I promise him that I will.
But the end of our trip, I do feel better. A little guilty hogging everyone’s time and attention with them focused solely on me, but mostly a sense of gratitude.
Maybe I can learn a thing or two from Ellie. She’s been open to trying things differently. It’s time I do the same.