The jingle of keys followed by the click of the door brings me out of memories, and tells me Susan has arrived. It’s morning now. Hadley has been gone for a few hours, but it feels like years.
Susan sets her bag down on the coffee table and pads over to where I’m sitting on the floor in front of Nicky. My son sits on the carpet, his toys strewn about. His favorites change every week. At the moment, it’s the elephant I bought a few days ago.
“He’s up early.” She sits beside me and coos at Nicky. He gurgles at her. With his red cheeks and messy hair, he appears impish. I wonder if he feels the change in the air. Does he feel the absence of his mom? I want to pick him up and hug him, tell him I’ll always love him, no matter what. Just don’t leave me.
“Thomas?” Susan puts her hand on my shoulder.
“Yeah, he was sort of fussy. I should’ve tried to put him back to sleep but I just…didn’t. I guess I wanted to play with him.”
“It’s okay. He’ll be a little cranky, but nothing I can’t handle.” She smiles.
There was a time when Susan knew me the best—she was my nanny too, when I was growing up—and I think her motherly understanding is still intact. She studies me, my face, my posture, and I want to hide myself…or maybe break down and tell her everything, like a child does to his mother, hoping she’ll solve all the problems. At least, that’s what I imagine a mother feels like.
“Are you okay, Thomas? What’s going on?”
Her concern touches a deep part of me. It soothes me to see that she cares, but even so, her sympathy is grating. It further proves that I fucked everything up.
“Everything’s fine,” I reply curtly as I stand up. “Would it be possible for you to stay here full time for a couple of days? I’ll pay you, of course.”
She frowns. “Of course I’ll stay, but why?”
I can see that she probably knows why, and I hate that. I hate that she knows there’s something wrong in this house, in my family. I’ve never known one. I’ve never wanted one, but now I can’t seem to let go of it.
“I’ll need you to start today. Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll drive you to get your stuff.”
I walk away then, but Susan catches up with me at the bottom of the stairs. “Thomas, get back here.”
It’s her stern tone, one she has used on me countless times when I was a kid. Thomas, walk slowly. Thomas, don’t disturb your father. Thomas, your father is busy.
I stop but don’t turn around. I hear her footsteps approaching. “What’s going on, Thomas?” At my silence, she puts her hand on my back and I tense at her soft touch. “Is it…Hadley?”
At the mention of her name, a weird sense of possessiveness rises in me. I can’t explain it, but I don’t want Susan to be talking about her, knowing she left me, knowing she left her seven-month-old son. As if Nicky knows I’m thinking about him, a sharp giggle echoes in the air.
“Let me know when you’re ready to go,” I insist, taking a step away from her, about to climb up the stairs and do…something. Anything. Words are coming to me, begging me to make something of them, but I won’t. I hate them.
“She left, didn’t she?” she says, effectively stopping me in my tracks. Her long sigh makes me turn around. It’s an unsurprised sound. It’s a sound that says it was expected. My anger is about to burst now. I feel hot, hotter than I’ve ever felt.
“Do you have something to say?” My voice is calm and soft, unlike the jagged, furious edges inside me.
“Thomas, I…” She sighs, her hands wringing in front of her. “I know it’s hard to hear, but I think there’s something wrong with Hadley. I think she’s going through something big and she needs help, Thomas. She might be suffering from baby blues or something similar. I read up on it the other day. It’s very common in women. They don’t show interest in their children. They are…depressed.” She reaches out and clutches my bicep. “It fits the bill. I think Hadley should see a psychiatrist.”
“My wife is not crazy,” I say with gritted teeth.
“No, of course not. I’m not saying she is, but she needs medical help. I have seen her, Thomas. Nothing about her indifference feels right. I—”
“We’re not talking about this.”
“We need to talk about this. We need to do something. Do you know where she went? We need to find her. I should’ve said something sooner. I—”
“We don’t need to do anything, and Hadley hasn’t left. She’s just gone for a few days. She just needed a break. She’ll be back Wednesday.” As I say it, I realize how hollow it all sounds. Do I really believe she’ll be back?
“A break from what? You don’t leave your baby to fend for himself like that—”
“You do when you never wanted that baby.”
The declaration thuds like a landslide. It crashes against the air and boomerangs, hitting me in the chest. I know the reason why Hadley can’t bring herself to care about Nicky. I know I’m responsible for it.
“What are you talking about?” Susan asks, frowning.
“She wanted to get an abortion but I convinced her not to.” I plow my hands through my hair and finally break down and tell her. “She’d found out she was pregnant so she went away for a couple of days, but I didn’t even notice she was gone. I was too busy writing my next fucking masterpiece. When she got back, she told me she wanted a divorce. She wasn’t even going to tell me about the baby. She didn’t want him, said it wasn’t the right time for a baby because we hardly loved each other. Things would get messy, she said. She didn’t think she could raise a child alone because I was too wrapped up in my own shit.” A bark of a laugh escapes me and with an aching throat, I confess, “I’m like my father, Susan.”
I feel dizzy and I grab the railing to keep myself upright. If it wasn’t for that discarded pregnancy test, I never would’ve known I was going to be a father. She would’ve killed my baby because I fucked up. I can’t describe the anger I felt then. I wanted to kill her, kill myself for not loving her right.
But all I did was beg and beg until she gave in and decided to try again.
My gaze swings over to Nicky, who’s still playing on the carpet. His coos and gurgles cut me as sharp as a knife. Somehow I’ve failed again. She’s gone, and Nicky is left motherless.
Susan puts her hands on my tight cheeks. “Thomas, you’re not like your father. He loved you and your mother, but he didn’t know how to show it. You do know. You know how to put your child first. You know how to be there for Hadley.” She squeezes my arm. “Do you hear me? You’re not like your father.”
“Then why is she gone?” I whisper.
Susan understands and steps forward to hug me. I deflate within her motherly warmth, like a fucking child. I hate it. I hate being this weak, being such a failure, but I don’t have the strength to step out of her embrace yet.
After a while, Susan leaves to get Nicky something to eat.