Chapter 37
The next several weeks are a whirlwind. Emmett Henry Rose-Bardot—a damn mouthful of a name—was born after fourteen hours of labor. The entire Rose-Bardot family is happy and healthy, obsessed with their pink and wrinkly newborn.
I swear something evolutionary skipped me because he looks a bit like a naked mole rat. And, yep, still no maternal desires surfacing. Squinting at the picture Thea sent me, I decide the best way forward is lying.
Thea
Look at how cute he is!
It’s a picture of Emmett curled up on Thea’s chest. He’s a bit splotchy and very bald.
So cute!!!
Thea
Too enthusiastic, Cole. We have to work on your lying skills.
Shit, sorry. I just don’t understand how we’re supposed to think he’s cute right now. Maybe in a few months?
Thea
*skull emoji*
He’s just so little and squishy!
Hmm…
Thea
Come on, you have the world’s ugliest dog. You have to think this baby is cute!
Yes, world’s ugliest dog. I do not think Ernest is cute but I still love him.
Thea
I’ll take it!
Another text comes across the top of my screen.
Ben
Did you also get an ugly photo of Emmett?? I mean, I’m his uncle, obviously I’m obsessed with the kid but when they are so fresh it’s just…
Creepy.
Ben
Exactly! I knew you’d get it!
Do you want me to add you to the family group chat? We’re all talking about it!
Dear god, please don’t.
I hate group chats. They are so stressful.
Ben
LOL you are so cute Red
I’ll just recap the messages before bed every night
I think that’s worse than just being in the group
Ben
Noted
A few minutes later, a new notification pops up.
*Benjamin added you to Cabbages*
Thea
Oh my god, yay! Cole is here!
Fuck. No! I don’t want to be in this group chat. I move back to my texts with Ben.
What the fuck
Ben
You said this would be better than me recapping the messages!
I didn’t mean for you to add me!
Cabbages
Bex
Yay! More women!
Gabe
Welcome, Cole!
*Colette left the group*
There. For some reason being added to the family group chat feels like more of a commitment than moving in with Ben. It’s not something that can be done this casually!
Ben
Gabe thinks you left the group because of him
I left the group because of you, Benjamin!
Ben
That’s not what Gabe thinks
Then tell him it’s because of you! I didn’t want to be in the group!
Ben
Poor Gabe. He’s going through a rough time right now, too.
Goodbye Benjamin.
I toss the phone onto the other side of the couch and go back to studying. This semester has been difficult but invigorating at the same time. I love that we are finally diving into criminal psycho analysis and applying our learning to real world case studies.
This is exactly what I’ve been itching to do for as long as I can remember. Following this career path feels more right than engineering ever did. Honestly, it feels like so many things are lining up exactly the way they are supposed to.
So much so, I might even let Ben add me back into the family group chat. After I process what that would look like and maybe have Ben do the recapping thing for a few weeks…
Baby steps.
Since missing the first week of classes, I still feel like I’m playing catch up so I decide to pop into Dr. Daly’s office hours the next Monday morning.
His office is cozy, with a large wooden desk and two leather chairs across from where he sits.
Mismatched textbooks line the shelves behind his desk and a photo of him, another older man, and a dog sits framed among the various knick-knacks scattered around him.
Unlike Dr. Winthrop’s office, Dr. Daly’s feels lived in—welcoming.
He greets me with a smile and we have a rousing conversation about Eysenck’s theory of criminal personality.
“Don’t you think Eysenck completely overlooks the whole nurture part of nature versus nurture?
I mean, he’s scientifically accurate when it comes to some of the biology of criminals if we were to look across a wide pool of subjects but what about their background?
Previous trauma? Education? We can’t overlook those things when thinking about actual humans and not just case studies. ”
Dr. Daly beams at me across his desk. “Excellent point, Ms. Russell. I wholeheartedly agree with you. Indeed, Eysenck had some good points and many researchers used his work as a jumping-off point, but there is a gaping hole, in my opinion. We don’t have all of the pieces to the puzzle if we don’t take external factors into account. ”
“Precisely!” I agree, closing my laptop. “Thank you, this was really helpful.”
“Anytime, Ms. Russell. I appreciate you stopping by. This is one of the main reasons I went into academia—getting a chance to converse with brilliant minds.” He chuckles jovially, pushing to stand.
“Well, I will definitely be back then. I’m a verbal processor so talking through the reading a bit helps create a deeper understanding,” I say as I stand as well.
He crosses his arms behind his back, leading me to the doorway. “Excellent. Looking forward to seeing you in class soon.”
I thank him again before exiting his office, deciding to take the stairs down instead of the thousand-year-old elevator. Bonus points because I’ll have to pass by Dr. Bardot—I mean, Elaine’s office on the way out, and I’ve been rehearsing a conversation in my head with her for the past week.
Dr. Bardot, thank you again for having me over to your home. The murder mystery party was great. Yes, sorry, I promise I’ll start calling you Elaine. Congratulations on your newest grandchild, he’s very cute!
The last part is a lie, hopefully she won’t see through it.
When I get close to her office, I realize it’s a different familiar voice that’s drifting into the hallway. A voice that whispers the dirtiest words to me followed by nonsensical French endearments. A voice that sounds distressed.
Several thoughts run through my head at once. I should just keep walking but I want to say hello, and it’s Ben, so why am I nervous? Maybe I should hang out in the hallway and wait until he leaves, act surprised to see him coming out of his mom’s office. I should, I should, I should…
What I definitely shouldn’t do is plaster myself to the wall and lean as close as I can to the open door without announcing myself. I definitely should not do that.
However, that is exactly what I decide to do.
“Ben, you need to tell her.” Dr. Bardot’s voice is calm, drifting through the open doorway. It’s the complete antithesis of how my body reacts to the phrase she just uttered.
I can picture Ben running his hands through his hair, picture as it flops back against his forehead while he lets out a sigh.
“I know,” he agrees. “I know that. Every time I’ve tried, I imagine the worst possible reaction and I freeze. She’s asked me to go slow and I’ve gone anything but. I don’t want to push her away now when she’s doing so well.”
Doing so well?
They’re talking about me, they have to be.
“How many days was it?”
“Four thousand four hundred. I stopped counting when I proposed,” he replies.
“You stopped counting?” There’s a note of surprise in Dr. Bardot’s voice. “Do you still keep your journals?”
“Do I still have them? Yes. Do I still use them? No.”
“You’re that certain?” she asks.
There’s a long pause and I know I should leave. The appropriate thing to do would be to walk away and bring this up to Ben later. What I really want to do is walk away and shove this entire day way down deep into the recesses of my memories and never think about it again.
“I need to tell her,” he finally says, a non-answer to his mom’s question.
A chair screeches across the floor which is enough to spook me out of listening to any further conversation.
So I run. Backpack and all, I sprint across campus through the neighboring streets until I’m back at my apartment.
If people stare, I don’t notice. I’m so locked in, so focused on getting anywhere but the psychology building, a full production of Spamalot could have been happening in the quad and I wouldn’t have noticed.
Once I let myself into the apartment, I drop my things and slide down the door until my ass hits the ground. I sit there, panting in a terrible attempt to catch my breath.
Only, I might be having a panic attack because I still can’t breathe.
I rip my sweatshirt over my head and press my back against the door.
My hands find the cool laminate below me and I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on the sensations around me.
Ernest trots over, nudging me with his nose.
I can tell he’s distressed so I scratch behind his ears, tugging him into my lap.
It takes a few minutes but I start to calm down, right as a knock sounds on the door behind me.
My traitorous heart immediately assumes it’s Ben, though there’s no way he’d be able to make it all the way here unless he also sprinted like a lunatic across town.
My adrenaline is crashing and I feel numb all over. I debate not answering the door but whoever it is knocks again. Slowly, I drag myself to standing, not even bothering to look through the peep hole before I answer.
Swinging the door open, I see the last person I ever expected to find on my doorstep.
“Dad?”