Chapter Twenty-Five
Wendy
"Hey," I grin at Liam, who tosses his basketball bag in the back. I hold out a bag of his favorite chocolate-covered pretzels from Mabel's. "Gotcha something."
Liam smiles when he sees them and practically hops into the front seat. Noah's in the back, giggling at his tablet as he shovels Hot Cheetos in his mouth.
I treat the boys to a snack before our family therapy appointments. A little positive reinforcement never hurts.
"Thanks, Mama," Liam says, practically tearing open the bag and shoveling five pretzels into his mouth. I flash him a warning look that he's going to choke, but he just grins at me.
"How was school?" I ask, pulling away from the curb.
Liam smiles at his phone before he finishes typing out a text. It’s the Birdie smile.
"Good, Will and I have a science project for next month."
"Project or a paper?"
"Both," Liam scrunches up his face. "We have to present and test it out to pass."
"They're still torturing the children, I see," I sigh, grinning over at Liam, who laughs.
"It's brutal, Mama," he jokes, and I smile, thinking back to middle school, to science class, to—
"Your Daddy's good at science," I say without thinking.
Liam's quiet at that. My hands tighten around the steering wheel, hoping I didn't make some monumental mistake.
Glancing quickly at Liam, I see his brow furrowed, but his face looks... thoughtful.
"You know, we would cheat off each other's tests in class," I tell him, adding some smugness to my voice. "We never got caught."
"What?" Liam's eyes bug out of his head.
"Mama, you cheated?" Noah yells from the backseat, sounding scandalized.
Their surprise makes me laugh.
Parenting involves instilling as many do-as-I-say, not-as-I-do values in your children as possible. This feels like a fun little secret to tell them.
"I was a teenager once. I made mistakes too. And science was so boring!"
Liam shares a look with Noah, and they laugh at me dramatically disparaging science.
This moment with my sons and me feels nice, a good burst of levity before we go to our therapy appointment. Liam's smile dims, but doesn't disappear.
He glances down at his lap, twirling his phone around. I get a flash of his wallpaper, and it's a picture of Birdie in the snow; he must have taken it last month.
His hands pause for a moment, looking at the picture.
"...I like science," Liam says quietly, and it makes me smile. So much like your Daddy. Liam's lips twitch into a grin. "Daddy really cheated, too?"
Liam calling him Daddy makes my heart warm, and I laugh at the memories, my voice fond.
"Oh, yeah. Daddy hated math, so he cheated off me for math, and I cheated off him for science. He used to purposefully distract Mr. Richards so that I could copy his answers. I was Mrs. Barker's favorite student, so she never even looked over at me when we took tests. Daddy and I were a good team."
I look at Noah, who's giggling, and then at Liam, who's smiling softly now, his eyes soft as he glances down to his phone once more.
He huffs a laugh, small but true.
"That's cool."
...
I blink my eyes open, staring at the bedroom ceiling as my eyes adjust to the dark.
It's still night, the clock on the bedside table reads 3:28. I listen for my kids, usually the source of me waking up in the middle of the night. Liam getting sick or Noah having a bad dream.
I don't hear them, though; all I hear is a buzzing noise.
My phone.
My hand pauses when I reach for it. The last time we received a middle-of-the-night call was when Carrie passed.
My heart drops as I grab it and press it to my ear, "Hello?"
"Wendy..."T
The sound of his voice is like someone dumped cold water over me. I’m completely awake, sitting up straight, heart pounding in my chest.
"Atlas?"
"Hi, baby," he sounds out of breath. "I'm sorry—"
"Are you okay?" I cut him off, worried.
"Yeah, I-I... I had a—"
I frown in confusion as he tries to stutter out an explanation, before understanding dawns on me.
I keep my voice gentle, "Did you have a nightmare?"
He's silent for a full minute, the only sound is him trying to gain control of his breathing.
My hand presses to my chest, my heart aching for him. That night that he had a nightmare crosses my mind. The way he looked so scared, his face panicked, holding me tightly before abruptly pulling away.
I think of the terror and the pain he must be experiencing. Atlas said it was like the nightmare desperately holding onto him for minutes after he wakes. He was always scared to go back to sleep, compulsively checking to make sure that I'm alive.
"Yes," he says finally, his voice a little gruff and ashamed. "I'm sorry for calling—I just needed to hear your voice."
Despite everything, that makes me smile.
It feels nice to know, especially after so long of nothing emotional being reciprocated.
Love was never the problem with us, which makes me feel better. Love cannot sustain a relationship alone, but without it, what would be the point of trying to rebuild?
"Okay," I say, before teasing him, "Anything you want to say in particular? I could read the dictionary if you wanted, or I could Google how to rebuild an engine and recite the steps for you to correct, or I could—"
He chuckles and the sound makes me smile. He sounds like he's breathing a little easier now, "That's okay, just... tell me about your day."
"Hmm… my day. Okay, well, I had a shift at Mabel's, mostly spent in the back to get all of Mabel's stuff together for tax season—you know she keeps all of her receipts in a shoebox?
No wonder she complains about losing receipts, but she refuses to change her system, swearing it works.
I'll convince her one day, or I'll just do it and she won't have the energy to switch it back, especially when she sees how easy tax season will be from now on.
Then I picked up Noah from art class and Liam from basketball.
Then we went to therapy and stopped at Antonia's for dinner, where I had to order Liam a whole extra cheese pie for himself, and Noah ate twelve mozzarella sticks.
Our little boys are made entirely of cheese, I swear—"
I cut myself off, realizing that I kind of got away with it and wonder if Atlas fell back asleep. "Atlas, are you still awake? Sorry, I was rambling—"
"I'm awake—I just..." he sighs, his voice soft and awed. "I haven't heard so much of your voice in so long. I... missed it..."
Irritation bursts in my chest at his sweet words. I've been here, I never went anywhere, I've always been here!
Before, when that thought would cross my mind, I would feel deeply ashamed.
Now, I'm going to follow Dr. Pace's words—look at the anger.
Why am I feeling the anger? Because he hurt me with his absence and neglect.
Will it accomplish anything to remind him of that? No.
What is he doing now? He's getting help. He called me when he had a nightmare, he didn't snap at me, he didn't curse at me, he didn't ignore me. He called me. And I feel proud that he did so.
That's something to be happy about.
My hurt still matters, but so does Atlas being strong and brave and letting me in.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask tentatively, like he's a spooked animal.
I lay back down on the bed, phone still pressed to my ear, and pull the covers up over my shoulders to get comfortable. I reach my hand out to Atlas' side, laying my hand over his pillow, pretending like I’m brushing fingers across his forehead, pushing his unruly dark hair back.
He’d close his eyes in bliss, a low rumble in his chest, and I’d tease that it was like petting a bear—until he growled and rolled on top of me, making me shriek with laughter.
Atlas is quiet for a long moment before he whispers, "No, but I know I should."
“You can tell me,” I murmur, “You can tell me anything.”
"You were..." he starts, his voice breaking. He takes a couple deep breaths.
"Take your time, Atlas, I'm not going anywhere.”
"You were dead," he says finally. "But you always are in my nightmares. And I can't stop it. Nothing I do stops it. This one was... bad. You got sick, and I... I can't fight sickness. I can't protect you from it. I can't protect you from it. I just... I just watched you fade away."
"I'm still here," I tell him, keeping my voice even but gentle. “I’m still here, Atlas.”
"I know,” he breathes, sounding relieved at hearing that fact once more.
“I know it's ridiculous. When I had them at Story Grove, I.
.. I was able to talk myself through it.
I know they would call me if something happened to you.
I know that they would tell me. But... I just needed to hear your voice. "
I smile even as my nose stings from the vulnerability in his voice.
"Thank you for calling me," I whisper. "For sharing it with me."
"I'm so sorry for waking you—"
"You can always wake me if you're in trouble," I cut him off, before adding. "Always, Atlas."
He sniffs, and I close my eyes, pressing my hand over my heart. "Do... do you want me to stay on the line with you?"
"Would you?" He asks, his voice hopeful.
"Of course," I say, and hear the rustling of sheets, him lying back down on the bed. I laugh, "You know, I told Liam about us cheating off each other in school."
He chuckles, "What made you tell our son that his parents are cheaters?"
"He's got a science project," I place my hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter, not wanting to wake the boys up. "And I was telling him how smart his Daddy was in science."
Atlas is quiet at that, before he asks, "...really?"
"Mhm..." I hum, smiling. "You're the whole reason I passed chemistry. Wait—what was that cheesy line you said?"
He mumbles something, and I giggle, "What was that?"
"I said... It's not hard to have chemistry with you," he mumbles. I try to smother my giggles into my pillow and he huffs, "Worked, didn't it?"
"Yeah, that one got you to second base," I tease, and he laughs.
"If I'm remembering correctly, we rounded the bases pretty soon after that," he says, and I can hear the smugness in his voice.
We both dissolve into laughter, trying to muffle it so our kids and his parents don't hear. Deja Vu hits me like a truck, and for a moment, we're teenagers again, whispering over the phone late at night in our bedrooms.
"Thank you."
I frown, "For what?"
"For not... for still allowing me the chance to try," Atlas says, his voice thick. "For being a wonderful mother. Our boys are... our boys are so lucky to have you, Wendy."
Tears slip from the corner of my eyes down my temples and into my hair.
"They're lucky to have you, too, Atlas," I whisper, my voice trembling. "I'm going to ask them during our next session about you joining us."
"Yeah?" He asks with that hopeful tone again.
"Yeah."
"Thank you, baby."
I don't say anything after that, I just stay on the phone with him until I can hear him snoring on the other line.
But before I hang up, I whisper to him.
"I love you, Atlas."