He slaps my leg playfully and stands up. “Just trying to clear your head a little, Mommy monster. Seems like he’s your addiction and it’s not a healthy one.”
I glare after him as he heads for the door. He’s such a pompous ass.
“See you tomorrow,” he calls over his shoulder. “When Mr. Perfect returns…”
But, the next day Sam calls to say he’s having car problems. I cancel the spa. I haven’t spent an entire day alone with the baby since Sam’s run with the flu. I eat a mini bag of frozen corn before going up to get her. For most of the day, I repeat everything I see Sam do. We have tummy time in the living room. I wipe her face after she’s done eating. I even splurge and take her for a mini walk in the stroller I have never used.
When I discover I'm out of diapers, I call Sam in a panic. He doesn’t answer, because no one is ever around when you really damn well need them! How am I supposed to take a baby to the store with me? There has to be some kind of service that runs errands for new mothers. After debating for more than an hour, I pack the baby in the car and head to the nearest grocery store. It takes me ten minutes to figure out how to load her car seat onto the cart. I swear under my breath, until a more seasoned mother comes over to help me. I thank her without meeting her eyes and steer my cart into the store just in time to miss the rain. The minute the cold air conditioning blows on the baby, she starts wailing. I push the cart haphazardly to the kid aisle and toss in five packages of diapers. Better safe than sorry.
By the time I’ve raced back to the register, people are looking at me like I’m a bad mother. I load everything onto the conveyor and lift her out of the car seat. Holding her against my chest, I pat her back awkwardly. I am fumbling with my wallet and trying to bounce her when the cashier — a bubble popping juvenile delinquent — asks me, “Will that be all?” I look at the bags of diapers that are now bagged in my cart and then at the empty belt. He is staring at me with his watery marijuana eyes, waiting for my answer.
“Um no, I’d like all of this invisible shit too.” I wave a hand at the conveyer and he is actually dumb enough to look.
“God,” I say, viciously swiping my credit card. “Lay off the pot.”
The baby chooses that exact moment to have a bowl movement. Before I’ve pocketed my credit card, the contents of her diaper have leaked onto my hands and shirt. I look around in horror and bolt from the store.
Without the diapers.
I send Sam to go back for them later when he finally calls me back. When he shows up at the front door, I still haven’t changed my crapped on shirt, and in addition to my daughter’s brown artwork, both of my breasts are leaking. He shakes his head.
“You look worse every time I see you.”
I burst into tears. Sam sets the diapers on the counter and hugs me. “Go shower while she’s sleeping. I’ll make us something to eat.”
I nod and head upstairs. When I come back down, he’s made spaghetti.
“Sit.” He points to a barstool. I obey, pulling in the plate he slides toward me.
“You’re losing it,” he says. He wraps spaghetti around his fork without looking at me.
I use a knife to cut mine into little pieces so that they fit onto my fork.
“How do I get him to come home?”
“Get a new personality and learn to shut the fuck up.”
I give him a dirty look as I dab at my mouth.
“Are you attracted to me?”
There is a long pause.
“I’m gay, Leah.”
“What? I never really thought you were.”
“You’ve been saying it all along!”
“But, you have a daughter … what’s her name, again?”
He laughs. “Kenley. And, I guess I only figured it out later in life.”
I drop my head in my hands. This is an all-time new low for me, seducing a gay man. I take a deep breath and look up.
“Caleb’s going to leave me again. I know it.”
For a second Sam looks taken aback, and then he scoots over on the couch and puts an arm around my shoulders.
“Probably,” he says. My head snaps around to look at him. Weren’t gay men supposed to be sensitive? The minute he announced he was gay, I was planning on using him to replace Katine. “Probably. I can’t believe he’s stayed with you for this long.” He smiles at my expression.
“Did you really just say that?”
He nods. “Maybe the guy loves a good bitch — but you’re treading a thin line between attractively bitchy and psycho. You messed with his daughter. He’s probably going to leave you and take his kid.”
“No way. I won’t let that happen.”
“What? —The husband or the baby?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. It’s obvious what I mean.
“He won’t believe it — if I start acting all supermom. He sees through shit like that.”
Sam raises an eyebrow.
“He won’t leave me. He thinks I’ll fall apart if he does.”
“Is that how you want to keep him? By manipulating his emotions?”
I shrug. “I try not to think about it, honestly.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of apparent. Why not just let him go? You could find someone else.”
I have the urge to slap him across the face. I light up a Slim instead.