Trent
Beth has been at our house on a routine basis for the last several months while Parker has been planning multiple holiday functions for various charities. I’ve been doing my best staying busy at my office in Beacon Hill. There have been several times I haven’t bothered to come home at all. The busier Parker is with her charities, the further apart we become. For the most part, we are living separate lives while maintaining a home for our children.
Beth texts me all the time. Sometimes I engage, most often not. My world is being sucked into a vortex and I don’t know how to fix it. I wonder if Parker feels the way I do. I wouldn’t know because she’s too busy to spend any quality time for us to actually talk.
A month ago I had arranged an evening out for us. I chose to get a different babysitter since I didn’t want Beth to know there was trouble between my wife and me. I’m sure she’s already picked up on it, otherwise I wouldn’t have been making out with her in an isolated park in the middle of the night.
I just wanted a chance to fix our marriage. I arranged for the driver to pick Parker up at home and meet me at 75 Chestnut, a higher end restaurant in town. It was where we went when I asked her to marry me. I was hoping to rekindle what we had; what I thought we had. I requested the same table we enjoyed that memorable night. I sat watching the door, sipping from the same bottle of wine we ordered that night. I stayed for nearly an hour after she was supposed to be there and finished the bottle before I realized she wasn’t coming. Instead of going home, I took a cab to the same park Beth and I went to that evening.
That was the beginning of the end.
I’ve never felt less adequate as a man than I did that night. I can’t even get my wife to want to spend any time with me. We haven’t had sex in months. It’s not because I’m not interested, but because she always seems to have a headache or is extremely tired from her day. I can’t describe what it feels like when your wife won’t allow you to touch her. It’s like a knife to the heart. It deflates you like balloon. It leaves you feeling empty and worthless. What I wouldn’t give to have some level of intimacy between us.
I sit at my desk, staring out the window at the Charles River. I sip the oak flavored scotch from the crystal tumbler I poured for myself after everyone left the office, debating whether I should go home or sleep on the leather couch I recently purchased for my office. I’ve spent many of nights here as of late. My phone buzzes and I peer down at the screen.
Beth: I’m taking the kids to go see Christmas lights. Do you want to join us?
I stare at the words, thinking how it should be my wife asking this and not my nanny. That’s what Beth is now. She’s over every day after school. After Parker threw that elaborate birthday party, I went out and bought Beth a convertible Mustang. I thought it was quite appropriate after Parker teased me about purchasing one for the boys. Beth was elated. Parker’s face turned the same color of red as the car and she stormed out of the house after I showed it to her. I proudly went and picked up Beth from her house in it and we went for a joyride. Pissing Parker off felt pretty good that day. It wasn’t until I got home that I regretted my actions.
I pick up the phone and swipe the pad of my thumb across the screen. It opens up to Beth’s text. I stare at it a while before responding. What the hell? My children deserve having one of their parents around during the holidays.
Me: Sure. Where would you like to meet?
Beth was planning on hitting an upscale neighborhood not far from my office. I agreed to allow her to pick me up here. The boys always love coming to my office and sitting behind my desk. The older ones play courtroom while the youngest one toddles around trying to destroy everything he can get his little hands on.
I finish the rest of my scotch and head to the restroom to rinse my face and brush my teeth. I don’t want the children to see the exhaustion, frustration, and hopelessness in my face. I want them to see the dad they love, respect, and admire. I want to be the person they deserve me to be.
Not long after I straighten myself up, Beth and the boys arrive. Tyler runs into my arms and the youngest, Tanner, grabs onto my leg. TJ gives me a fist bump. My heart overflows with warmth and happiness. It’s such a simple act, but is so powerful it brings a smile to my face for the first time since I bought Beth that car.
I give each one of them hugs and ask how their day was. In the midst of it all I look up to find Beth leaning against a wall with a huge smile and a sparkle in her amber eyes. From the couch, they almost look gold again. They seem to turn gold when she’s thinking dirty thoughts. I look her over from head to toe. Her auburn hair is hanging midway down her back. The camel colored cashmere sweater hugs her curves and provides her face with a warm glow. Her jeans fit her body like a glove. The dark brown high-heeled boots give her an air of sophistication. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was no way she was seventeen. I would easily guess twenty-five. That’s still fourteen years my junior.
“Daddy, can we go look at the lights now?” Tyler whines. I smile and ruffle his hair.
“All right, let’s get out of here. I think I’ve worked long enough for one day.” I scoot my boys out the door, grab my briefcase, and turn out the lights.
Beth walks next me as we proceed down the hall. She lightly rubs the bottom of my back without anyone noticing. The touch is light, but is more than anything I’ve received from my wife in months, igniting every nerve ending. I’m hypersensitive to her flowery smell, the hitches in her breathing, and the warmth of her flesh.
“Dad, do you think Santa will be there? Can we get some hot chocolate?” Tyler asks.
I look at Beth questioningly. She peers back with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes. “There’s a house that has a Santa outside on certain nights. He hands out candy canes and Mrs. Claus serves hot chocolate. I mentioned it to the boys earlier and they haven’t stopped talking about it.”
I hear her words but I focus on Beth’s lips. My desire to kiss her is overwhelming. I imagine brushing the hair back from her face, lifting her chin as I look into her gorgeous eyes, kissing those plump, pink lips.
“So can we, Dad?”
“If Santa is there, you can have candy and hot chocolate,” I tell Tyler. “That can be your dessert. You guys have had dinner right?”
“Yeah, Beth made the best spaghetti and meatballs!” TJ says excitedly. “It was homemade. She even let us help make the meatballs!”
I glance over at Beth, whose eyes light up from the smile on her face. “Where did you learn how to cook?”
“My mom taught me that recipe. I also like to watch the Food Channel. Cooking is a passion of mine. I enjoy it.”
“Beth’s food is yummier than mom’s,” Tyler announces before climbing in the back seat of Beth’s car.
Parker used to cook. She was pretty decent. However, the busier she got and the more children we had, the less cooking she did. That’s when we hired a chef to come in and make our meals for us. There is something to be said about having a meal your wife prepares for you instead of the help.
***
We stroll down the streets looking at the lights and decorations. The neighborhood has a Christmas card theme with each house having a different card and Christmas story. Each one went over the top trying to outdo their neighbor. The boys were in heaven pointing out their favorite reindeer, snowman, and inflatable decorations. Without realizing it, Beth and I are hand-in-hand strolling down the street. It is comfortable and natural. We’re laughing and enjoying my boys, as if we are a family. I start envisioning how it could be and then it seemed to go from something unattainable to within reach.
Tanner runs up to Beth and stands in front of her with his hands in the air wanting to be held. She drops my hand and lifts him into her arms. He rests his head on her shoulder and closes his eyes. The almost three year old has had a big day and is ready to call it a night.
I move the older boys toward the car. Once we’re all in, I start the drive back home. Within ten minutes they are all passed out in the back seat, their heads resting on one another. I glance over at Beth, and she’s watching me, her eyes warm and glowing. She looks at me adoringly. I feel like I’m important to her, like I’m her hero. It fills my chest with pride. This is my family.
Except that it isn’t.
I take Beth’s hand in mine and kiss the top of it, determined to go home and figure out how I can make this family happen.