An Underestimated Christmas (Underestimated 3) (7 page)

Morgan shrugged the same shoulder. “It’s not me. She stopped talking to me. I think she’s afraid Nicky is going to give her kids something.”

I wasn’t pissed before. I was pissed now. I wanted to walk next door and twist her fucking neck off. “Why are you talking about our son with her?” I stood and walked slowly behind her, trying to calm my temper.

“Because I needed someone to talk to, Drew. We have to talk about this. Don’t tell me you haven’t done research on it. We need to take him to the developmental pediatrician.”

“He doesn’t need a developmental pediatrician, and you don’t need to be talking to anyone about anything. Do you understand, Morgan? Don’t fucking talk about our lives. You got it?” I bent behind her and glared at her through the mirror with a cold, threatening pierce. My hand went through her robe, over her shoulder and down her arm.

“Drew, we need to discuss this. You can’t live in denial forever,” she pleaded through her reflection.

My hand trailed her arm, over her right breast, and to her neck. Her fingers wrung my wrist when I tightened my grip, just a little. It wasn’t a hurtful action as much as it was a warning. “We clear?” I asked in a low tone. “No more talking to anyone about our son. Right?”

“Yes, Drew,” she replied, holding her breath. I let go when I realized I was scaring her. I spun into the bathroom and closed the door. I was seconds away from forcing Morgan to her knees. After turning the shower on, I stood under the hot water and tried to get rid of the hard-on pulsating between my legs. I really needed to call Deidra. The urges to go back seemed to get stronger as more shit was dumped in my lap. Shit that my wife didn’t have to create. I dropped my head to the shower tile and squeezed pre come to the head of my dick.

Thinking about things I was doing to my wife, I jerked off, visualizing her ass up in the air while I used a foreign object in it. Picturing the anal beads going in and out of her ass, I pumped my cock in my fist.

Morgan was clear to the edge of the bed and facing the window when I returned, feeling much better about my boundaries. That didn’t change the fact that I had no idea what to say to her. So I did what I had been doing. I didn’t say anything. I scooted close to her and placed my arm over her waist. She moved it and rolled to look at me.

“Is this where we are, Drew?”

“Where, Morgan?” I asked, exasperated with her. “Why do we have to be anywhere? Why can’t we just be here? Right here, alone in our bedroom. What is it you’re talking about without the games?”

“Games? I’m wondering why the fuck my husband has to jackoff in the shower when I am right here, and that means I’m playing games?”

“That’s not why I did that, Morgan. Why didn’t you say something, I would have pulled you in with me.”

“It was obvious you didn’t want me.”

“Like you would let me touch you anyway. You always play this game.”

“Are you serious right now? I withhold sex from you when I’m mad? That’s the only fucking time we have sex, Drew.”

“Oh, so every time you spread your legs and let me fuck you, it’s only because you’re mad at me.”

“You’re an ass. We don’t have to have sex at all. You’re free to beat off in the shower anytime you want,” Morgan yelled.

“Maybe I will. You think you’re the only female that has a pussy?”

“Of course, my high school boyfriend. Go there. Better yet, go find it somewhere else. See if I give a shit.”

Morgan rolled over, pushing my hand away from her, covered herself up to her neck, and curled in a little ball. I spat something else about not having sex and she ignored me, letting me have the last word. I hated when she did that. I would rather her be screaming profanities at me than ignoring me. It was a guy thing. I could pout and act like a high school boyfriend, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t supposed to be the one doing the ignoring.

I made sure I was up before Drew. I didn’t care if he never touched me again. I didn’t care about him getting off in the shower. He thinks I was born yesterday. I know what that was about. He was fighting demons. Demons that wanted to do things to me. I didn’t disclose the fact that I did the same thing after watching him. He didn’t need to know that part. The only thing this was about was Nicholas. Unlike my stubborn husband, I had been doing research.

I mixed up a bowl of pancake mix and twisted away from Drew when he came out dressed with Nicky on his back.

“Okay…” he said, getting it. Idiot. Like I was just going to wake up and pretend like he wasn’t depriving our son of getting the help he needed.

“Nicholas, we’re going to the Shakespeare Bridge today, remember?” I asked, pouring his pancake to the hot griddle. Drew pretended to listen to all the details about the Shakespeare Bridge while he glared at me.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? I thought you wanted him to take some interest in something else.”

“I’m sure. Do you want one or two pancakes?” I asked, staying clear of an argument. I was spending the day with my boys in Franklin Hills. I wasn’t going to be mad all day.

“Why didn’t you ask me to go?”

“You’ve got work. We’re just going to walk across the bridge and eat lunch someplace.” I knew that upset Drew. He would want to see the look on Nicholas’s face, witness his excitement. Dammit. Shit. I hated guilt.

“Do you want to go, Drew?” I asked, flipping his pancake.

“You don’t want me to.”

“I do, I want you to go to the bridge,” Nicholas had to help, shoving the guilt knife in a little deeper.

I wasn’t going to beg him and it was too early for Drew’s games. “Do you want to go or not, Drew?”

“No, I’ll go next time, okay, buddy? Daddy’s got work to do today.”

I sat alone with Nicky, eating his pancake. Drew kissed him on the cheek and told me he would see me later. I couldn’t remember the last time Drew left without kissing me goodbye. Yeah, I spun away from him earlier, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t try. I rubbed the aching in my head and took a deep breath.

I didn’t like where we were and I didn’t know how to get away from it. Drew needed to own the fact that our son wasn’t like other five-year-old little boys. I got it. I knew he was hurt, I knew it was scary, but dammit, he was thinking about himself and not Nicholas. Wishing I hadn’t been so cold with Alicia, I felt an overwhelming longing for my friend. My true friend. The one that would hold Nicky in her arms and kiss every inch of his face. Not the one next door who was afraid my child would rub off on her kids. I wanted Alicia.

If she would just call me, I could swallow my pride and apologize for acting like such a stuck-up bitch. Birds of a feather really do flock together. When I was hanging around Chelsea and the other stuck-up women, I acted like them. When I was around Alicia, I acted like me, the true me. It wasn’t that I was afraid of Alicia saying
I told you so
. She would never do that. She would move on from there and tell me everything was going to be okay. If I needed to believe that at any time in my life. It was now.

I should have never let this many weeks go by without talking to her. Every day it got harder and harder to call. I knew Drew talked to Celeste, but I also knew he didn’t tell her what was going on. He wouldn’t even admit it to himself yet. Besides, Celeste would have told Alicia and I would have gotten an immediate phone call.

“Hey, you want to go to the beach house for a few days? Go see Grandma and Grandpa?” I asked across the table to Nicky. “Good morning, little man. Did you go potty?” I asked, scooting back for Tad to slide across my lap.

“Uh-uh, and we go to a bridge a day,” Tad remembered from the night before. I was surprised he remembered. I told him when he was seconds away from falling asleep.

“I don’t like to go there,” Nicholas assured me. I stood and moved Tad to my chair to get his pancake ready.

“Why not? Don’t you want to see Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Yes, but every time we go there, Aunt Licia takes my room. I don’t like sleeping on the couch. I’m not supposed to sleep on the couch.”

I smiled at Nicholas, understanding his dilemma more now. Everything in me knew that he had this thing called Asperger’s. I read about how children get upset when their routines are altered. It truly upset him. He wasn’t just being a brat. It devastated him, and made me feel like a horrible mom for not picking up on it.

“I don’t think their coming, but if they do, we’ll put her on the couch. Just you, me, and Tad.

“And Daddy,” Nicky announced, licking syrup from his fingers. Ugh. What a mess.

“Daddy has to work.”

“Well, he has to come with us to there,” Nicholas assured me. This was so hard. Was that a trigger for him, too? Did he need Drew to feel safe? I had to put Nicholas before Drew and go over his head with this specialist. I needed help with something I knew, with all my heart, my son was dealing with. Drew was just going to have to be mad and own up to the fact that our son was not perfect. I let it go when Tad started talking about the bridge.

Flipping Tad’s pancake, I smiled at my boys. Tad was sure he was going to see Spiderman at the bridge. Nicholas was informing him that Spiderman couldn’t be there, and slid right in on telling him all about the Shakespeare Bridge. I read about this. How children with Asperger’s syndrome fixate on one thing. We took it as a sign of genius. I guess it was in some sort of way. I could never remember the things Nicky remembered.

Just the day before, he sat on my lap and I read to him all about the Shakespeare Bridge while Tad napped on the sofa. Learning about a new bridge to Nicholas was like a new toy for Tad. Nicholas didn’t really care about toys, not like Tad did. He held them in his hand, but didn’t get on the floor and sound like a racecar or a boat motor the way Tad did.

Nicholas didn’t climb to the back of the sofa and jump off because he thought he was Superman. Tad did. Tad built skyscrapers, barked like a dog, crawled like a snake, swam like a shark, and whatever else his little imagination could come up with. Nicholas never did those things, but I never thought anything of that, either. I assumed he was too smart, and too much like his dad to be silly like Tad and me. He took after Drew.

Once Tad was settled in front of SpongeBob and Nicholas was settled watching the construction of the Golden Gate Bridge with my tablet and headphones, I dialed the doctor’s office.

I had to leave my name and number because the receptionist needed to talk to Dr. Playl before scheduling me. I was a little surprised when Dr. Playl herself was the one who called back.

“Hello, Mrs. Kelley. How are things?”

I knew she was asking about Nicholas, but I answered thinking about more than that. Drew would be furious if I went over his head and did this. “They’re strained. I need help.” Jesus. No. Not the doctor. I didn’t even know this woman. Why on earth did this emotional breakdown come with her? Maybe because she’s the only one that knew. Maybe because I was more like Drew than I wanted to admit.

I could have talked to someone. I had a mother who would be on the next plane if I wanted. I had Alicia who would walk through fire for me. I had Celeste who would knock the hell out of anyone I wanted, and I had Drew. I had Drew who wouldn’t talk to me about it. I had Drew who had been living in denial for the past few weeks. I had Drew who left for work without a kiss, or an
I love you
.

“I’m going to send you in the right direction. Let’s get him seen by the developmental pediatrician before we go too far. There are a lot of resources, Mrs. Kelley. Kids live normal lives with this disorder every day.”

I listened to the motivational speech from Dr. Playl, holding back sobs as I silently cried, tears streaming down my face.

The specialist Dr. Playl suggested was on vacation and the earliest appointment I could get was nine days away. I was okay with that. I wanted to take the boys and go to my mom’s for a few days anyway, maybe crawl back to my friend on my hands and knees and beg her to come with me. I couldn’t do this alone, and if my husband wasn’t going to be there for the support than that was on him. Not me. I had people who cared about me. I didn’t need him.

Although I knew he wouldn’t show, part of me wished he would. I looked around the bridge many times, hoping to see Drew. He never showed. The boys and I ate pizza by the bridge and walked through the park before heading home early in the evening. Drew would make it home before we did. That never happened.

I could see the anger in his eyes when we entered the house. Nicholas ran to his lap, excited to tell him about the giant bridge. Tad stuttered around, too, wanting to tell him that Spiderman didn’t show up. Nicholas pushed him out of the way, wanting the attention from his dad.

“Hey, don’t push your brother. Go play for a minute and let Daddy talk to Mommy for a minute. You can tell me all about it at supper.”

Drew looked over his shoulder at the boys, making sure they weren’t looking. He grabbed my arm hard and shoved me toward the kitchen.

“What the fuck, Morgan?” he yelled in a quiet, but stern tone. It was a yell even if his voice wasn’t elevated. “We’re not doing this. We’re not playing this fucking game. All you’re doing is adding fuel to the fire. It’s bullshit.”

“I don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about, Drew. If you don’t want to play games, then dealing me aces. Say what you want to say without a fucking guessing game,” I yelled right back with the same quiet tone, jerking my arm away from his. He pushed me back with his chest, sending my back to the counter while he spoke above me.

“You taking off all day and being gone when I get home just to be a bitch. That’s what I am talking about.”

“Of course it is. Forget the fact that once again, you have to make it about Drew. Forget the fact that it had absolutely nothing to do with you. I told the boys at four o’clock we needed to go. They wanted to walk across one more time. I let them. YOU! Never crossed my mind while I let them do something fun, something they wanted to do.”

The next silent fight came at the dinner table. I ordered Chinese. That pissed him off. I let the boys have soda. That pissed him off. I made Nicholas use his spoon, over and over and over. That pissed him off. And then Nicholas had to go and blab his honest little mouth.

“We’re going to the beach house and you can’t come. You have to work. Aunt Licia is going to sleep on the couch, right Mom?” he announced. I closed my eyes when I heard Drew’s fork hit the plate. He got up and walked away to keep from saying anything. Thanks, Nicky…

We bathed the boys in two different bathrooms. Tad played in my bathtub while Drew had Nicky in their bathroom down the hall. That’s how the entire evening went. Drew ignored me, and I ignored him. We didn’t sit close on the couch with legs and arms tangled from our family the way we normally watched television. He sat on the end of the sofa with Nicholas and I sat on the loveseat with Tad. We did glance at each other, but that was about it. My glares shot back at him as fast as he gave them to me. And I dreaded going to bed with him.

I was hoping Nicholas would keep him up for a while after I carried sleeping Tad to bed. I kissed Nicky on the head and told him I loved him. He moved his head, wanting me to stop blocking his view and I walked away, purposely avoiding eye contact with Drew.

Laying in the dark room, I rubbed the back of my neck and felt the pain pill kick in. My pain wasn’t bad enough for the pill, but it helped with other things. Things like dealing with my husband who thought it was normal to flip the light on when he knew I was sleeping. I ignored him. Asshole. He left it on while he showered and crawled in bed beside me.

“I don’t understand why you think it’s okay to suddenly make plans without consulting me first,” he started from his side of the bed.

I wasn’t feeling angry with him anymore. I was feeling relaxed from my narcotics. I could tell him until I was blue in the face that I didn’t mean to do it that way. I merely asked Nicholas what he thought about it. I hadn’t made one definitive plan. Drew would never believe that, though. It was easier for him to believe I was trying to connive or be sneaky or some stupid assumption. I wasn’t going to argue with him.

“Drew, I won’t go. It’s no big deal.”

“Sure, you won’t go, and then you’ll throw it back in my face later that I wouldn’t let you go.”