The Girl in Seat 24B Read online

  “Don’t worry, I’ll come and help with the kids,” his mom offered.

  Michael stood up and kissed his mom’s cheek. “Thank you.”

  His dad just shook his head at him in disgust.

  Michael bent down and kissed my forehead. “Bye, Carly.”

  “Bye, Bishop.”

  He picked Mia up and hugged and kissed her goodbye. Ashton was next.

  “Bye, Dad” Ashton said sadly. Then he snuggled in next to me on the couch.

  I pulled him closer and looked up at my husband. “Please stay,” I mouthed.

  He looked torn, which I thought was a good sign. It was like everyone stood still as he contemplated the request. Our eyes were locked. But just like that, he turned and left. I sighed and pulled my son closer to me and kissed his sweet head. “Why don’t you get that new Lego set and we’ll build it on the coffee table.”

  My father-in-law offered to help with the Legos while Mimi and Mia got dinner. We all agreed on the plan. I loved the support and backup. I just wished my husband would jump on board. I was at my wits end and ready to give up. I was beginning to think that maybe I should just file for divorce. I was tired of living in limbo and being rejected over and over again. A girl could only take so much.

  As I lay in bed that night, I thought a lot about divorce. I even pulled out my tablet and started researching the laws in Georgia. Online, it made it sound so easy, too easy in fact. If it was a no contest or no fault divorce, we could be divorced in as little as a month, but since there were children and property involved, it probably wouldn’t be that simple. My heart ached to think about it, but I would be delusional to think this was heading anywhere else. At least this way we could move on, and maybe it would be better for the kids too. I just didn’t know.

  I knew I should have been resting, but thoughts like those had a tendency to keep me up. At least school was over, and Danielle was coming back to help. Michael called on his way to the airport, around seven a.m. I had been up for hours by that time, just lying in bed mulling things over. I decided it was time to broach the subject.

  “How are you this morning?” he asked.

  “I’m better, but I’ve been thinking.” I took a deep breath and mustered up my courage and I tried to hide the fact I was crying. “Michael, I heard what you said to your dad yesterday. I know you’re unhappy and I don’t know what I’ve done, but I know you’re not coming back, so I think it’s time I just face reality and we file for divorce.”

  All I heard were faint mutterings of cursing and tires squealing.

  I sat right up in bed and panicked. “Michael, are you ok?”

  “Yes!” he yelled. “I just needed to pull over. You could have picked a better time to bring this up.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t ever think I would have to.”

  He paused. “Carly, I’m sorry, you just caught me off guard.”

  “Yeah, well, this whole situation has caught me off guard, Michael, but I’m tired of living like this.”

  “Carly, we’re having a baby. Can we just get through that before we discuss this?”

  “What difference will it make?”

  “Carly, please. I’m trying to work through this. I just need some more time.”

  “More time for what? Partying with your friends and ignoring your wife and kids? Or maybe let’s go back to my original assumption. You’re having an affair.”

  “Dammit, Carly. I’m not having an affair. You don’t know what I’m going through.”

  “Don’t swear at me, Michael Bishop. And you’re right, I don’t know what you’re going through because you won’t talk to me!” The tears were coming on full force. There was no stopping them. I sniffled into the phone.

  “Carly, please don’t cry. It’s not good for you or the baby. Just please try and relax and get better. When I get home from this trip, I’ll come and get the kids for the weekend. Let’s just put a pin in the divorce talk until at least after the baby’s born.”

  He loved to say, let’s put a pin in it. I wanted to say, I know where we could put a pin, but instead I relented. “Ok, I’ll drop it for now.”

  I could hear a sigh of relief on his end.

  “But Bishop, I can’t take much more of this.”

  “I know, Carly. I’ll call you later.”

  I was more than awake by the time the call was over, so I got up and jumped in the shower. I wasn’t sure how to feel after that conversation. On one hand, it was hopeful, but on the other hand, it was depressing. He didn’t take divorce off the table, and my fear that he would only stay because of the baby felt like a real possibility. I wanted us to be a family, but not out of guilt, but because he wanted us and because he really loved me. I didn’t want the kind of marriage we had had the past seven or eight months.

  It felt good to be up and out of bed, but it wore me out just walking up the stairs. I used to run 5k’s in my sleep, now I got winded walking up the stairs to wake my kids up. Per the usual, they were in Ashton’s bed. I wondered when he would tire of her invading his space. I hoped not too soon. They looked adorable together. I went and grabbed my camera so I could capture the moment. Sometimes, I wished they could just stay small.

  As I took a few shots, I got an idea for the nursery. Yep, I decided I was getting my nursery. Even if Bishop decided to move back home, or if I let him move back home at this point, he would have to figure out a different space for an office. As far as I was concerned, that bedroom was mine to do with as I pleased now. Finders keepers, right?

  I snapped one more picture, just for the heck of it, and then I woke them up. Today’s, musical renderings came from Mary Poppins, ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’. Just try spelling that. Per usual, as of late, Mia was happy with the singing and Ashton pretended he didn’t like it. I could seriously eat them up. Before we went down together, I took the time to talk to them about the baby some more. We didn’t get a good chance yesterday. I wanted to know if they had any questions. Of course, the first one was where babies came from. Maybe I should have thought about that beforehand. Ashton was only a toddler when I was pregnant with Mia, so we never had this discussion. I went the honest route, without giving out too much information—that could come later when they were older, I thought. They looked a little confused, but thankfully we didn’t have any follow-up questions.

  I let them touch my midsection. “You know, pretty soon you’ll be able to feel the baby.”

  Both of their eyes lit up in wonderment at the prospect. I had felt some movement, but nothing externally yet. We breakfasted together. It was only cereal again, but hey, it was life sustaining. My mother-in-law came around ten. I could tell she was uneasy about it, and I was too. We had never spent a day together without our husbands involved.

  “Hi, Danielle,” I said as brightly as I could when I opened my front door for her. “Thanks for coming again.”

  “You’re looking better,” she said stiffly.

  “Not one hundred percent yet, but definitely better.”

  The kids were already playing in the backyard, so we walked back there together. As soon as the kids saw their Mimi, they ran to her. No matter what kind of mother-in-law she had been, she was an excellent grandma, and I had always appreciated that. Deep down, I knew not even my own mother would have been as good and as attentive as Danielle had been. My parents were great, but they lived a very different lifestyle. They enjoyed the high life and world traveling, where Danielle and Jack enjoyed the simple pleasures, and they had no problem getting down and dirty with the kids. My mom would have been good with them when they were older, when she could bore them with art museums and symphonies. All things I learned to appreciate as I grew up.

  Danielle and I each took a seat on my deck as the kiddos went back to playing on the jungle gym that Michael had built when Ashton was four. It was a labor of love. Where was that man? I kept wondering. We sat silently for several minutes. I kept trying to think of things to say, but I came up short. I
t was sad, I had been part of this woman’s family for over ten years, and I was still uncomfortable around her. I finally settled on what I hoped was a safe topic.

  “So, do you think Jack will retire this year?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Ok, so I picked a touchy subject. Way to go, I thought. More silence ensued.

  Purposefully she turned my way after several minutes. “Speaking of work, when do you plan on giving up your new job?”

  I wasn’t expecting the question or the malice that accompanied it. I sighed. I didn’t need this from her too. “I don’t plan to for the time being,” I said kindly, but with authority.

  Her eyes widened, and she made a tchting noise.

  “Why does that bother you?”

  “It makes my son unhappy and you have children to think about.”

  “You’re right I do have children to think about, that’s why I’m working. And believe me, I try to spend as little time as possible away from them.” I stared directly into her eyes. “I didn’t choose this, Danielle. I wouldn’t have chosen this.”

  “But, maybe if you quit, he would come back.”

  “You and I both know that’s not true.”

  She turned from me and crossed her arms and watched her grandchildren. This wasn’t going as I had hoped. I wished Jack didn’t have to work. Better yet, I wished my husband was home, and then I wouldn’t have to have these conversations and defend myself. I tried something else.

  “I had an idea for the nursery today. Would you be willing to let me copy some of Michael’s baby pictures?”

  “Where are you putting the nursery?” She turned to me with shrewd eyes. She and Michael had the same blue eye color. But her eyes reminded me of a hawk. Like she was going to swoop in and grab me with her claws.

  I sighed. “In Michael’s old office.”

  She went in for the kill.

  I braced myself by holding onto my lounge chair.

  “So you’re just going to push him out of your life?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed in deep. I didn’t need this this morning, especially from her. But I composed myself and reminded myself I wanted to repair this relationship, not damage it further. I opened my eyes to see her glaring at me. “Danielle, I’ve done everything I can think of to get Michael to come home. I didn’t ask him to leave. I begged him not to go. He’s rejected me to the point of humiliation, but yet I still keep trying. But I’m not going to waste my life away waiting for him. That wouldn’t be good for me or the kids. Michael knows he’s welcome, at least for now, to come home anytime he wants.”

  Her eyes narrowed some more. “What do you mean, at least for now?”

  “This can’t go on forever.”

  She turned away in a little of a huff. I reached over and touched her arm. She still didn’t look my way.

  “Danielle, I’m sorry for whatever it is I’ve done to make you not like me. I was hoping we could get past that because I have a feeling I’m going to be needing a mother soon, or at the very least, a friend.”

  She slowly turned my way. If I wasn’t mistaken, her eyes looked a little misty.

  “I’ll bring the pictures over tomorrow.”

  I squeezed her arm quickly and smiled. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 8

  As I started feeling more like myself, or at least more like a normal pregnant lady, I began to make plans and map out our summer. I was determined it was going to be fabulous, with or without Michael. My first order of business was to make reservations for a condo at the beach. In addition, I bought passes to the waterpark and a couple of museums in the Atlanta area, and then I made a calendar and emailed it to Michael. I simply told him he was invited to join us for each excursion, including our week in Florida at the Gulf Coast, which was coming up in two weeks. I even included my scheduled doctor’s appointments. The next one up was the ultrasound in a little less than four weeks.

  I also began sketching out my plans for the nursery and shopping for baby furniture. I found this lovely baby boutique and became fast friends with the owner, Laura Hansen. After a few visits, we started talking about what I did, and I showed her some of my work.

  “I’m impressed,” she remarked as she perused my website.

  She was so impressed she asked for a quote to update her posters and website pictures. She even allowed me to place my brochures on her counter. I was already full through summer with scheduled sessions, but it didn’t hurt to advertise more. Currently, I was only taking two sessions a week, unless it was a wedding, then that was my only outing for the week. Thankfully, I only had two of those on the schedule. They were grueling.

  Michael eventually responded to my email by calling me. “I’ll be traveling a lot on assignment, so I’m not sure what I can do.” It was the same tired old excuse he had been giving me for months.

  “That’s fine with me,” I replied. “It’s no big deal. I just wanted you to know you were invited.” I tried to play it all off like it didn’t bother me one iota.

  Oddly enough, he called a few hours later and changed his tune. “I’ll try to make it to the beach for a couple of days and I’ll for sure be there for the ultrasound.”

  I smiled to myself. “Ok,” I responded to him casually.

  He was still absent a lot, but I tried my best not to let it get to me. Like I said, I was determined to make this a fabulous summer. We picnicked in the park and fed the ducks, swam at Mimi and Papa’s, and went to the water park. I also braved sleeping in a tent with the kids in the backyard. That was definitely not happening again with a pregnant body. Michael would call and talk to the kids each night while he was out of town, and they would tell him of our adventures. Each call ended with him and me. The regret was apparent in his voice each time he vocalized that it sounded like we were all having a great time. And we were, but there was something missing, even though I decided since he wasn’t making an effort to be involved, I wasn’t going to beg anymore.

  Then Father’s Day rolled around, and I asked him if he wanted the kids for the weekend. He declined, saying he would be getting back late into town from his assignment in Boston. While that irked me, I decided I should be the better person and acknowledge the day, even though he had completely ignored Mother’s Day. More than anything, I didn’t want this to make me spiteful and hateful, although at times I so wanted to be. When someone you love so much constantly hurts and disappoints you, it’s hard not to be that way, but I swallowed my hurt and pride and helped the kids pick out gifts for their dad. I even did a photo shoot of the rug rats and I put together a photo book with the pictures for him.

  My in-laws invited us over for church and lunch that day, and I gladly accepted. I knew Michael was extended the same invite, but I didn’t know if he would come. Regardless, I got up and made his favorite that morning, cinnamon rolls. While I was kneading the dough, I questioned my sanity and why I was going through the trouble, but then the baby moved and I was reminded what was at stake here.

  We dressed up in our Sunday finest, which meant I had to break down and buy some maternity clothes. For the occasion, I bought a lovely royal blue dress that showed off my now tan legs quite nicely. It was form fitting, and it showed off the baby bump. I didn’t think I felt this comfortable with my body the last two pregnancies, but I guess there were advantages to being older and feeling more comfortable in your skin. It didn’t hurt that I was finally feeling well and my face had color back in it.

  The kids and I gathered up all the gifts, I wrapped a pan of cinnamon rolls up, and we headed out the door. We were going to stop by Michael’s apartment on the way to his parents’ place. It seemed so surreal. I kept thinking it was just a short year ago when Michael was home and Sunday mornings had meant lazily lying together in bed with him begging me not to get up. I almost started to tear up, but I stopped myself. I was so tired of crying over him.

  I wasn’t sure how our reception was going to be, so
I tried to brace myself as we knocked on his door. I just prayed he would see how excited the kids were to give him their gifts and that he would at least pretend. Maybe I should have called, I thought. But I was afraid he would just say not to bother. It took a minute for him to answer. By the looks of it, we had woken him up. He was in his boxer shorts and t-shirt, and he looked tired and haggard. His seven o’clock shadow was more like a full grown beard. We hadn’t seen him in a couple of weeks, so I was surprised. He seemed embarrassed and uncomfortable when he looked at me. I honestly barely recognized him. I just smiled and looked down at the kids. Mia was bursting with excitement and Ashton was hesitant. Thankfully he invited us in and responded well to the kids. He sat on his new leather couch, where the kids joined him, one on each side. I walked back and put the cinnamon rolls on his kitchen counter.

  It was a small apartment, and it was made smaller by his desk and chair and a ginormous flat screen T.V. I kept looking around thinking, is this what he really wanted, a bachelor pad? The space was cold and uninviting, no wonder the kids didn’t really like coming here, not like they ever really got the chance to.

  I walked back into the front room and stood as I watched Michael open his gifts. Mia got him tennis balls and a tie, and Ashton got him a new tennis racquet. He loved to play tennis, and his apartment had tennis courts. He liked both gifts and hugged and kissed the kids. I was relieved. Ashton gave him the photo book I created of the two of them. He opened it and flipped through the pages. He looked up at me, but didn’t say anything. His stare was a little unnerving.

  “We better go; we’re going to be late,” I said as a way to divert his attention. I pointed to the kitchen. “I left a pan of cinnamon rolls for you.”

  “Thanks,” he said quietly.

  Mia hugged her daddy’s neck tightly. “I love you,” she expressed easily.

  Ashton looked unsure. Once Mia released Michael from her death grip, Michael looked at his son and wrapped him up tight. My eyes began to water.

  “I love you, Dad,” Ashton whispered ever so quietly. I barely heard the three little words.