Tied in Knots: A Tied Together Novella (5 page)

“Congratulations, Mr. Keller and Dr. Ford. You’re having a little girl.”

T
he next few
days after the ultrasound were par for the course. I got up, took Ethan to his new preschool, took care of chores around the house, picked Ethan up, and then Brandon would come home late from work. My frustration with the situation continued to grow, and it started to show.

“Daddy, I want cookies.”

“No.”

“Pleeeeez!” He stuck out his pouted bottom lip.

“No. You’ll start with a few and then gorge on them, eating your emotions until you become a fat moose and no one will love you. Except maybe another fat surfer moose, who is a total contradiction because he says
cowabunga
. Why would a moose say anything related to a damn cow? It’s a moose, for God’s sake.”

By the time I was done with my tirade, Ethan had gotten a stool, grabbed a box of animal crackers, and slipped out of the room. I ran my hand over my face, hoping I could magically erase my stress.

I still was in shock that we were having a girl. When we found out during the ultrasound, I may have jumped up and down, screaming the names of all the designers I would dress her in. Aside from playing dress-up, I was excited we would be getting some estrogen in this testosterone-driven house.

I walked over to the refrigerator to get some juice for Ethan. On it were the sonogram pictures the technician gave us at our appointment. My little girl. I let my imagination take flight as I thought of playing Barbies, putting bows in her hair that took up most of her head, and having tea parties with her stuffed animals. But then I thought about how Brandon would miss those opportunities if he kept up his current work schedule. He would be so busy helping others create their own families that he’d miss out on the growth of his own at home. The thought of this made me jealous of those people and jealous of Brandon’s job. But how could I possibly take what he did away from him? I understood that Brandon loved being a doctor, and he was fantastic at it. But he had to understand that we needed a bigger part of him, too.

I needed a change of pace and knew what I wanted to do. I also knew the person to do it with. I took my cell phone from the counter and found the number I needed.

“What the fuck, Ryan? I told you Saturday mornings were reserved for sex. Why are you calling this early?”

“Moxie, first, it’s ten o’clock in the morning. Second, we both know Miles is already gone and picking up donuts for you.”

“Fine, but you know I get very crabby if I don’t have my sugary treat after a good fuckfest.”

“I need your help today.”

“I told you not to experiment with live animals up your ass. But you are my best friend, and if I have to go reach in there to grab the poor gerbil out, I will.”

I rolled my eyes. Moxie was feisty, and that was putting it mildly. Her husband, Miles, called her a firecracker. Partly because of her beautiful red hair and partly because whenever she was in the area, everyone knew it. The woman had no volume control.

“I want to go shopping for the baby’s room.” Several beats went by. “Moxie?” I looked at my phone to see if the call had dropped. “Moxie, are you still there?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Are you crying?”

“No.” She sniffled.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because you want me to go shopping with you. Me. The girl you used to say looked like she shopped at the reject section at Wal-Mart.”

“That was like fifteen years ago. And you were actively trying to get laid by your now husband. Thank God he liked hobo chic.” I snickered.

“Listen, colon cleanser, my husband has no complaints about my clothes because he prefers me in the buff or in latex with a hole cut out for the—”

“Okay, that is an image I never want imprinted on my brain, thank you.”

“So where are we going and when? Do I get to see Blubber?”

Blubber was Moxie’s nickname for Ethan since he’d been a cute, chunky baby. It stuck, as did the name Moo Moo for Moxie because Ethan had a hard time pronouncing her name.

“Yeah, Brandon’s working, so you get both of us.”

“Great, I’ll bring Jaxson and Sophie, and they can watch over Ethan while we sneak sips out of the flask from behind the breast pumps.”

“As much as I love my godson and goddaughter, I don’t know if leaving eight-year-old twins in charge of a four-year-old is a wise decision”

“Please, they are basically driving and filing their own taxes. We’re good.”

“Okay, I’ll see you at the IKEA in two hours?”

“Make it three. I might have donut sex by attempting to put Miles’s penis through the donut—”

“Good-bye, Moxie!”

I hung up the phone and went to get Ethan ready. I needed to spend some time with my best friend and get her feedback on my disappearing husband and the blond shark circling my marriage, waiting for the kill.

M
oxie was waiting
inside the entrance of the store on her phone when Ethan and I made our way over to her.

“Moo Moo!” Ethan broke my hold on his hand and ran up to climb into Moxie’s arms.

“Blubber, you know you can say Moxie now.”

“I like Moo Moo.” He giggled that devilish Ethan laugh. Moxie looked at me, and I shrugged and lifted my hands in resignation.

“I have no control over him. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just a matter of time until it’s
Lord of the Flies
in our house and he starts to cannibalize Brandon and me. Where are Sophie and Jaxson?”

“In the play area.” Moxie pointed to the play area that IKEA offered to customers who didn’t want to tote their young kids through the monstrosity of the store.

“How did you get them in there? They are older than the maximum age.”

“I said if they took the kids, I would slip them a twenty and buy them a twenty count of cinnamon buns at the end.”

“You bribed the IKEA workers?”

“Have you seen the waif working in the playzone? She could use a few dozen of those IKEA cinnamon buns and all their gooey goodness. Then she’ll use the twenty I gave her to buy laxatives to crap it all out.” She looked over at the worker with contempt.

“You’re demented,” I said, shaking my head.

We walked over there together, checked Ethan in, and found Jax and Sophie to help watch over him. We found the escalator to take us up to the first level of the monstrous store.

I liked to label the different types of people who came to IKEA. First you had the newly college graduated roommates, who wanted to upgrade their apartment from crates to Euro chic. Then there was the disinterested husband, who sat on the display couches while his overzealous wife spent his cash. And then there were people, like my best friend, who would kick someone’s nut up inside his body if he dared try to take the last serving of meatballs.

“We are going to get some balls.” Moxie pulled my arm toward the cafeteria. IKEA also sold food.

“Moxie, we don’t have time to get Swedish meatballs.”

She stopped dead in her tracks. “Ryan, no one—and I mean no one—gets in the way of me and my balls.”

“And we all know you like them big.” I stuck out my tongue at her.

We stood in line to get Moxie’s food, and I grabbed a bottle of water since I’d eaten lunch with Ethan earlier. We found a place to sit by the window, and Moxie inhaled her food as if she hadn’t pigged out on donuts all morning.

“So… spill,” she said, taking her utensils to cut into her food.

“What am I spilling?”

She paused before taking a mouthful of food. “Ryan Keller, in all the years I’ve known you, you have never asked me to go shopping with you. Are you dying? You have anal caner, don’t you?”

“What? I’ve asked you to go shopping with me. Is anal cancer even a real thing?

“I have no fucking clue and no, you’ve never asked. Trust me, I would have marked it down on my calendar and sent you an anniversary card to celebrate the moment.” She moaned, savoring her food.

“How are your balls?”

“Heaven. I wish Miles’s balls tasted this good. Do Brandon’s balls taste good?”

“Lately, I wouldn’t know.”

She wiped her mouth with her napkin and narrowed her eyes at me. “What did you do?”

“Why do you automatically think it’s something I did?” My voice got a little too loud for intimate conversation. A few heads turned to look at me, and I waved my hand. “It’s all good here; my friend just really loves her balls.”

Moxie kicked my leg under the table. “Shut it, douche canoe. Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t think it’s just one thing. He’s been spending a lot of time at the hospital. He comes home late, he’s really irritable, and when I try for sex, he says he’s tired or makes some other excuse. Then there is a guy at the hospital…”

“You think he’s cheating?”

“No… Maybe. I don’t know. I know his job is stressful, but it’s really starting to take a toll. He almost missed the ultrasound because he was flirting with this nurse up in Labor and Delivery.”

“Are you sure it was flirting? Brandon is a nice guy and chats it up with a lot of people.”

“Maybe he wasn’t intentionally flirting, but Surfer Boy definitely had it out for him.”

“You know… I know people who know people. I can have him taken out,” she said in between bites.

“You know nobody.”

“True, but I can send Sophie in there, and she can take care of him with her shrill screaming. When she has one of her tantrums, she can wake the dead and then kill them all over again.”

I nodded. “It’s a true talent.”

Moxie took the last bite of her meatballs and patted her stomach. “I think that’s enough balls for now.”

“Are you buying some to take home?” I asked, getting up from the chair to look around the store.

“No, I’m good for now until I get to have Miles’s balls for dessert.” She smiled and took her plate to dispose of it.

“You need serious mental help,” I said, putting my arm around my best friend and kissing the top of her head.

W
e started strolling
through the vast store, looking at couches and dining tables before finally getting to the baby and children’s furniture. Even though I still had Ethan’s crib, I wanted to have something different for our baby girl’s room. Our tastes were on the modern side, so I thought this would be a good starting point for our daughter’s room.

“Why would you put your baby in an egg?” I heard Moxie on the other side of the room. I walked over to see what she was talking about.

“It’s not an egg. It’s a training potty,” I said, pointing to the retail sign.

“That is not a potty, Ryan. That is a giant fucking hardboiled egg. Why would you want a kid shitting in your eggs? And why can’t this store have anything that looks the way it’s supposed to? Did you see that crib over there? It’s not a crib; it’s a fucking spaceship.”

“Excuse me, miss.” A woman carrying a baby in a wrap around her chest approached us. “I need you to tone down your language around my child.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t see your kids running around here.” Moxie said, looking past the woman.

“I don’t have any other children, just this little guy.” The woman made cooing noises and rubbed her nose on top of the baby’s head.

“Oh, crap,” I mumbled under my breath and covered my eyes with my hands. I knew this wasn’t going to go down well. Moxie had a tendency to say whatever, whenever. Especially if someone pushed her wrong buttons. And judging by the look of annoyance on her face, I hoped we would make it out of the store alive.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re afraid your baby is going to pick up my swearing? What? Is he some sort of genius who shits in this pants and sucks your boobs when he’s hungry?”

“You are a disgusting human being.” She looked down at Moxie. “Who taught you to speak like that? Don’t you have any common decency?” the woman asked, placing her hands over the baby’s ears.

“Lady, your kid is drooling like a dog. You’ll be lucky if you get it to sit, come, and stay when it’s twenty years old.”

“I’m getting security.” The lady rushed off to find an IKEA worker.

“Good luck, lady. Oh, be sure to try the balls before you go. They’re amazing!”

I pulled on Moxie’s arm, leading her down to the play area to get the kids. “I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” I shook my head.

“Seriously, Ryan, the woman had one of those egg potty things stuck up her ass. Let’s get the kids and go to a real baby furniture store. I don’t want my goddaughter sleeping in a crib that’s named after some Swedish anarchist.”

A
fter we got home
, I gave Ethan a bath and then gave him some dinosaur chicken nuggets and applesauce for dinner. I snuck a nugget or two myself, not really feeling all that hungry for an entire meal. I hoped Brandon would come home early enough so we could have dinner together and possibly try to reconnect in the bedroom, but my phone had been quiet all afternoon.

Ethan munched away at his meal, showing me every time he bit off the dinosaur’s head before eating the rest of the nugget. I was crawling out of my skin waiting to see if Brandon decided to call and let me know he was running late tonight. He’d been forgetting to call this last week, and it was pissing me off. I didn’t want to call him first, just on principle. So I stewed over it and got madder and madder. Then I thought of Sean the Surfer and a feeling of dread made my stomach fall. Was Brandon working with Sean tonight? Were they really only working or doing more? I hated that after all these years with Brandon, these traitorous thoughts kept popping into my head. I felt uneasy and insecure.

I needed a release the nervous energy I felt building in my gut, so I decided to clean the kitchen. As I was wiping down the counters, Ethan accidentally spilled his cup, startling me and causing me to knock a stack of papers off the counter. I wiped up the juice from under Ethan’s seat and then picked up the mess I made of the papers.

I huffed in annoyance at the papers; I’d repeatedly told Brandon to take his work papers into the office. I’d scooped up the sheets when I saw an envelope hand addressed to Brandon. Usually I wouldn’t think twice about it, but the return address caught my eye. It was a town not far away from where we both grew up in Iowa.