揓esus, Cole. Don抰 get her so worked up. She抯 been bouncing off the walls all day.?Aster rolls over on the couch, practically boneless, her head half-buried under the pillow.
Ever since we came to Kona, my wife has had Dess to look after twenty-four seven. The last nanny梩he one we hired expressly for the Kona trip梠nly stayed for two weeks, which boggles my mind.
How many nannies would give up a free trip to Hawaii?
Evidently the kind who aren抰 resistant to being chewed out by my wife.
It抯 the depression talking, I know. I抳e had years to develop a thick skin when she goes off on her moody tirades.
The drugs and therapists and natural remedies we抳e spent a small fortune on have helped, but nothing totally cures her storms when they strike.
I抳e learned how to let them roll off my shoulders.
Regrettably, the nannies haven抰.
Thankfully, she抯 never turned that attitude on our daughter. I just hate that it robs Aster away from key moments when she could be enjoying our little girl, her laughter and play and sweetness.
Dess cuddles up to me, a perfectly content bundle.
How can anyone be annoyed by this? My baby girl seemed calm the whole day, but I had to take several meetings. Maybe Aster saw something I missed in her sensitive state, or maybe?
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I go answer it with Destiny perched on my hip.
揌ey, Troy. Come on in.?
He抯 damn near sunburned, looking like a college kid roughing it with his red skin and overgrown beard. His pearly white teeth beam at me as he walks in with a bulging duffel bag thrown over his shoulder.
揟hanks a million for letting me crash here, man. Beats the hell out of huffing it back to the sardine box room on the coffee farm.?
揘o problem. Your tub flooded, you said? Christ.?I shake my head. 揟he hotel抯 usually a decent stay. Make sure you let HR know when you get home so they can start scouting new places to send my employees when we make these trips. We could use a backup. I know how tight it gets in the peak season. Still, I don抰 want my people having to deal with that after a long flight. It抯 nothing to have you staying here with us, but of course I can抰 open our place to everybody.?
He smiles knowingly. 揑 get it. I抦 lucky you like me and you抮e not just signing my checks.?
揧eah, even if I still can抰 figure out why,?I joke, slapping him on the back.
He winces. I realize I hit his sunburned shoulders and mutter an apology.
Aster shuffles up to the door. A rarity when she抯 been trying all day to nap.
She never greets me at the door, even at home.
揙h, hi, Troy.?
His eyes land on my wife. He greets her with the same almost goofy grin.
揥hoa. Aster, you look lovely tonight棓 His eyes flick to me. 揇oesn抰 she, Cole? Lucky, lucky man.?
I offer her a respectful grin.
揝he always does. No surprise.?I appreciate the hint. Things have been rougher than usual with Aster lately, and Troy was always more of a ladies?man than me. Never shy about reminding a girl she抯 beautiful, even if he knows full well she抯 off limits.
揧ou know, I could use something for the headache. I抣l go make us some drinks,?Aster says matter-of-factly, giving me the first smile I抳e seen on her face all day.
揕et me give you a hand. Last time in Maui, the place I stayed had this swim-up bar with a cool twist on mai tais,?Troy says.
揧ou guys go ahead. I抣l keep the kiddo occupied.?I back away, letting him set his stuff down and head into the kitchen.
Aster looks at me and smiles over her shoulder as she follows him. 揟hank you, Cole. I appreciate it.?
揑抦 sorry, sweetheart. If it抯 too hard on you, we can look for another nanny when we get back home,?I tell her.
揝ure.?She disappears into the kitchen to make drinks with Troy.
I slump down on the living room floor and play dolls with Dess, working through my range of bad, exaggerated cartoon voices and accents that make her laugh.
They抮e gone longer than I expect, but Aster comes back holding a hefty silver tray of cocktails. There抯 also a little mocktail with pineapple juice for Destiny in a sippy cup.
Dess grins and bounces up at the chance to be a 揵ig girl.?
Her mom hands her the cup.
She wraps both her little hands around it梥he tries, anyway梑ut the goblet slips out of her hand and splatters against the marble floor.
揙h my God!?Aster screams, the pleasant look on her face gone in a red-faced flash. She looks at me with narrowed eyes. 揇o you see? Now do you see why we can抰 have another nanny quit on us??
揗ama, I抦 sorry!?Destiny bursts into tears.
揂ster, it was just an accident,?I say tightly. 揔ids spill things all the time. Let me get it.?
I start moving toward the storage closet. I can still feel my wife glaring like it抯 all my fault.
Fuck. These are the times when it抯 hard to remember she抯 sick, and not just being an asshole for the sake of assholery.
揧eah, well, it抯 easy for you to say when you抮e not stuck at home every day with one walking accident after the next. I wish I had your company to manage,?Aster mutters.
Destiny wails louder, her little voice trembling. 揚-pwease d-don抰 be mad, Mommy. P-pretty pwese??
Troy, lifesaver that he is, emerges from the kitchen with a roll of paper towels. I reach to tear off a handful and he bends down next to me, helping clean the mess.
揌ey, don抰 worry about it, Cole. I抳e got this. It抯 the least I can do,?he says with a wink.
We抮e head-to-head, blotting up the liquid and buffing the floor.
Once it抯 gone, I lift Dess in my arms, squeezing her gently so she knows it抯 not her fault.
I try like hell not to feel embarrassed.
Mostly, I feel horrible about Troy walking into our shitty family dynamic. There抯 a guest in my house cleaning up an accident made by my kid, all while her mom goes ballistic over nothing.
This isn抰 Troy抯 mess.
He shouldn抰 have to clean it up.
Still, I know he抯 just trying to play peacemaker, the good friend, because the women in my life are such high-maintenance. Though only one little lady does it gracefully.
Shit.
When we get back to the mainland, I抳e got to get Aster another nanny who can handle Aster抯 moods梕ven if I have to pay through the nose to put up with the rudeness. In her condition, my wife can抰 handle running after a small child all day. Deep down, I know she loves Dess just as much as I do.
I抦 going to recommend a new round of counseling, too. There抯 a new psychiatrist from Phoenix who supposedly works miracles with light therapy and behavioral conditioning. If I have to fly him in for Aster once a week, so be it.
All kids spill things. They shouldn抰 have to worry about their parents hating them when mommy can抰 control her outbursts.
I won抰 give up, no matter how many messes I get to clean up.
Even if our entire marriage was almost predestined and arranged by family ties, I want to believe I can love her.
I can fall back in love with Aster, somehow.
If only so I can be the father and husband and shepherd my family deserves.
Present
That was the last time.
The last argument.
The last time believing I could ever patch the holes in my family.
There wasn抰 a chance to get Dess a rock-solid nanny and there was no counseling when we got back to Seattle. Aster didn抰 make it that far.
Fuck, my head is throbbing.
I rip open my desk drawer and fumble around for the Tylenol bottle, tossing a couple pills down my gullet.
I know better than to let these memories wash over me, especially when they抮e triggered so easily by an old face I should抳e been prepared for.
They always leave me with a drumming headache. I go to the coffee machine on my sideboard, pop in a Wired Cup capsule, and pour two espresso shots to chase the painkillers.
The combination might not be optimal, but right now it抯 strong coffee or a proper drink.
Because Troy Clement is absolutely right, no matter what bad memories he dredges up.