Five #2
“You know what I realized when I walked in the house tonight and saw Mimi in the living room—just like she used to be when she was still in high school?” I said before she could mention any recriminations. I would not let Naomi rip herself apart. Never, and definitely not over a lie.
“I realized that you had been parenting for nearly twenty-three years.” At her pinched brows, I clarified, “Since Mimi was born.”
Naomi’s mouth dropped open, and she blinked rapidly—as if I’d hit her over the head with a foreign idea.
“The three of us know you raised her. You, Naomi, not your mother, even before she died. You did that, and you did a damn fine job. Know why? Because you’re a good parent—the best, based on Mimi’s experience.
” I took a long, painful breath. “But I figured out something else in the weeks since Felix was born. No one kid is like any other.”
“I…suppose.” She still seemed awestruck by my comment about her raising Mimi. It was so weird none of us had thought of that before.
I held her tighter, swaying a little. “It’s story time. Want it in the bath or bed?”
“Bed,” she said with a sigh. “I’m so freaking tired, Adam.”
That was hard for her to admit because Naomi didn’t do out of control, even with me…unless it was in the throes of passion. But that’s how I knew she was pretty much at the end of her string.
She needed some bench time to rest her legs and get her head back in the game. Luckily for her, that need for a breather was something I understood well. And I was coming up with a plan so that I could give it to her.
“Of course you’re exhausted, sweetheart. You just had a baby, like half a minute ago, and we weren’t sure if he would have some issues because he was an impatient little dude and couldn’t wait for his procrastinating father to get his shit together.”
I probably wouldn’t have had my act together if he’d come on time, but I was in conciliatory mode…and I deserved to shoulder this blame.
The reminder of those first twelve hours when Felix went to the NICU made Naomi tense. Thankfully, he quickly got cleared, and everyone noted his powerful set of lungs.
“Felix is healthy, but he’s also fussy, which has nothing to do with the type of formula or milk he’s drinking. My guess is that he’s unhappy he left the comfort of your tummy.”
I led her to the bed and settled her there, adjusting the covers until I tucked her in nice and snug. I settled next to her, laying my head on my pillow, and rolling toward her, noting how her eyes were bright, even though they were red-rimmed. She blinked at me owlishly.
“You know, the whole thing about not knowing how good you got it until it’s gone,” I said.
“You think that’s what it is?” she asked, her voice tentative.
“Yeah, sweetheart. He’s realized he made a mistake, and this big old world isn’t the warm snuggly space you provided him.” I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before caressing her soft cheek. She nuzzled into my hand, then pulled back to look at the mitt marks on my wrists.
“You were playing hockey.” It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t a statement, and I hated that she’d had to question me.
“I was. Stolly and Cormac tried to talk sense into me, but it was Naese’s pissy response to having everything he wants that got me to see what a dick I’ve been.”
“Naese? Really?” Naomi’s expression grew intrigued, smoothing away some of the exhaustion.
“We’ll get to that story soon, but I have a different story I need to tell you first. One that I should have shared a long time ago…” I trailed off to clear my throat.
Talking about my past left me scraped raw and off-kilter, and Naomi knew that. She was astute enough to pick up on the fact that I was the person in this story; she brought her hand up to wrap around my wrist. My palm still cupped her cheek, so we lay there, connected.
“Okay.”
I sucked in a breath, releasing it slowly. “I was a crier as a baby. Like Felix is.” I grimaced, finally understanding how hard that would have been on any parents—not that mine deserved to be let off the hook for, you know, failing to parent me.
“I told you that—remember?”
She nodded, staying silent.
“Well, apparently, I wanted to be held all the time. And I mean all the time. My brother Owen was the one who got up with me because my parents said I needed to learn to soothe myself. Owen said they let me cry until I was hoarse while he was at school.”
Naomi scowled, her eyes fierce. “That’s horrible. I knew I hated your parents.”
“Well, I didn’t say this was a nice bedtime story.”
“More like a nightmare,” she said. She slid her hand up my arm so that she could hug me tighter.
This is what we did for each other, and I was so, so thankful once again to have Naomi in my life, at my side.
She was my partner, holding me up when I was weak.
Much as I hated to admit to weaknesses, I had them, and thanks to her, I could admit it.
“Yeah, well, that was my childhood, which got worse when Owen enlisted because my parents were dealing with my older siblings…so they could ignore me. But by then, I was almost four. That’s why I survived okay. I mean, I could get food from the fridge, water from the tap…basics.”
“But you were still a baby,” Naomi said.
“You have to understand something, Naomi.” I swallowed because I hated talking about this, but it was important; it was why I’d been struggling with Felix’s tears.
“My parents didn’t want me. I don’t know what life was like before I came along, but it was better than it was after Mom got pregnant with me.
I know that because they told me often. I also know they said I was the fussiest of their kids, the one who cried and cried for attention.
So, when Felix started to cry, and I couldn’t make him stop… ”
I blew out a breath. “It made me think that my parents were right. I was the problem. First as a baby myself, then now, as a parent, because I can’t soothe my own kid. It, well, I feel worthless all over again.”
“No, Adam. You’re not. Never.” Naomi hugged me fiercely. “The change in formula seems to be helping,” she mumbled against my chest. “He’s been sleeping for over an hour this time.”
“That’s great, sweetheart. Really great.”
We fell into an easy silence.
“Tell me?” she asked.
I recited details of my childhood that I hated to remember—ones that left me feeling confusion and shame.
“Oh, Adam,” Naomi said with a deep, gut-wrenching sigh. “You did nothing wrong. Your parents, they’re supposed to care about and for you and show you how much.”
Which was why I realized that once we got past this bump in the road, Felix would be okay—great, even. Because he was so loved and we’d tell him often.
“But they didn’t, not like they seemed to for my older siblings, and I figured it was because I was defective.” My skin flushed hot at this admission.
She kept her head pressed to my chest, knowing me well enough to understand I needed the privacy from her scrutiny if I was going to finish this without shutting down.
“You weren’t—you are not—defective. You’re very attentive and loving toward me, Mimi, and Felix. And that’s despite your parents’ behavior.”
“Maybe. But you can tell me what’s wrong and what you need.”
She tipped her head back and met my gaze. “Because I do that so well.”
I had to chuckle at her sarcasm. I kissed her soft lips, falling in love once again with the pillowy sweetness. I’d never tire of kissing this woman. “No, not really, but I’m attuned to you. Your moods matter to me. Your feelings matter.”
“Just as you and I will become more attuned to Felix. And his moods already matter to us. I…I think that’s why we’re struggling.” She heaved a vast sigh. “I hate that I can’t make him happy.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“I know.” She snuggled closer as she drew patterns on my chest with her fingertips. “So…Owen came back from the army. I know you lived with him for late elementary school and middle school.”
“Yeah. He came back, and I moved in with him. My folks were more than happy to let him be my guardian.”
“But you two talk so infrequently.” She frowned up at me.
“That’s on me.” I swallowed the painful lump lodged in my throat and went for the easier route of conversation. “Well, I think it’s also a man thing. We can’t all be like you and Mimi, jabbering away about nail polish.”
“Will you stop right now?” She shook her head but a tiny smile tugged her lips. “I don’t jabber.”
I kissed her temple. “You don’t. I just don’t want to talk about this.”
“I’ll start, then. You and Owen don’t need to talk as often on the phone as Mimi and I do to feel close, but there’s something else that’s been festering in your relationship. Something you need to sort out.”
I loved and feared that perceptiveness. “Yeah.” I blew out a gusty breath. “I…”
And here was the second hard part of this conversation—the one I’d always avoided because of this part. I released a gusty breath. “I hurt him, threw all he’d done in his face, telling him he’d been a shit big brother and he’d never been my parent.”
She blinked up at me, wide-eyed. “Why?”
Naomi knew I wasn’t that big of an asshole to people I cared about…usually.
I cleared my throat. “He didn’t like my hookups,” I mumbled.
“Owen and I have something else in common.” Her tone was drier than a new hockey stick.
“And he was hounding me about it, wanting me to focus on hockey, to stop…scoring with the ladies.”
“Mm. I owe Owen a lifetime supply of something. He likes nails and hammers or some other tools,” she said.
I squeezed her plump ass with just enough force to make her startle. “You’re not buying my brother power tools or nails. You love me.”
“I do. I love you, Adam.”
She cupped my cheek, knowing I wasn’t kidding, that I needed the reassurance, especially now that I’d let her down and given her one of my deepest shames.