Chapter 3
Ronnie and I lay in bed that evening with Kix.
He’d fallen asleep with us and we couldn’t bring ourselves to move him yet.
Something about the little warm body, the slow breathing, the relaxed face, it spoke to the reason we were created.
The battery inside me glowed, watching him.
When his lips parted, I closed them to force nasal breathing, far better for us humans.
At my insistence, Ronnie was reading Lord of the Rings.
She claimed she didn’t enjoy it and each night she read for twenty minutes before flipping the book closed and announcing something like, “That’s enough orcs,” or “Hobbits are idiots,” and she would pick up the non-fiction book The Mountain Is You, about conquering self-sabotage.
Sooner or later, though, she’d lay it down and set the alarm on her phone for sleep, and I’d catch her googling things like, How long do hobbits live?
or, How big was Ancalagon the Black? or, Why do elves and dwarfs hate each other?
Tonight I watched Ken Burns’s new Revolutionary War documentary on my iPad. Again. Ronnie was wearing a pajama top with a single button keeping the sides closed, so I was only half watching the documentary.
She tapped me and I took out my earbuds.
“Are you watching the war thing?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Did you know what’s-his-name Tolkien wrote Lord of the Rings during World War II?”
“I did know that.”
“Did you know Saruman’s army was supposed to represent the Nazi war machine?”
“I heard it mentioned.”
“The Wehrmacht. Does that mean Saruman himself represents Hitler?” she asked.
“Sauron might. Saruman the White had once been good, but quickly joined Mordor because he thought they would win. I think he’s more like France, who capitulated to Germany without a fight.”
She wrinkled her nose. “What a wimp.”
“Does that mean Gandalf is Churchill?” I said. “There’s a great book called The Splendid and the Vile about Churchill you might like.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I would rather die.”
We were quiet a moment, me ready for more Tolkien talk, but she returned to her boring book about a mountain. Before I could reinsert my earbuds, she tapped me again and said, “Mackenzie. Have you noticed Manny’s sleeping on our floor less?”
“Perhaps.”
“Where is he right now?”
“On the couch or in his room, I assume,” I said.
“I think he’s sneaking down to Noelle.”
“Manny does not sneak.”
“He’s so preoccupied with her health, and she’s so randy right now, she’s probably begging him to attend to her needs and he jumps to it.”
“Uh oh. What do we do?”
“You’re mocking me,” she said. “Has he told you about this?”
“He has not.”
“You’re an observant man, Mackenzie. Had you already discovered this? Have you picked up on clues? I’m a lawyer, I need evidence.”
“To force a confession?”
“I’m nosey, but you love me anyway,” she said. “Have you detected evidence of secret rendezvous?”
“Why would they hide it?”
“Because she’s embarrassed. She rejected his proposal but she’s still rolling in the hay with him while she’s supposed to be a devout Mormon. She can’t let us discover her debauchery, else her opinion of herself would suffer. I notice you’re not answering my question,” she said.
“Shhhh you’ll wake the baby.”
“If you weren’t such a humongous man, and if I weren’t so madly in love with you,” she said, “I would kick your butt. You’re hiding something.”
She flipped off the covers and jumped out of bed. I placed a hand on Kix’s stomach to keep him from rolling.
“Perhaps,” I said, “it’s not your business.”
“Kick. Your. Butt.”
As quietly as she could, she opened the door of our bedroom, crept into the hall, and I heard her throw open the door to Manny’s bedroom.
Voices murmured. I waited.
She came back and she closed the door and I detected a pink patina to her cheeks.
“Did you catch them knocking boots?” I said.
She fussed with the sheet. “He’s lying there trying to look innocent, reading a book called Can’t Hurt Me.”
“The rascal.”
“He said I couldn’t get into bed with him unless you were dead.”
“A rascal with scruples.”
“If I didn’t know he killed people, I would kick his butt,” she said.
I stood and scooped Kix.
“Aw,” said Ronnie, “leave him for a little longer?”
“I can’t. I have to protect him from the crazy lady.”