and she...well...”
He smiled. “She’s fine. I’m looking after her well. We’re better than ever.”
He figured that if he spoke it into existence, then maybe it would become so. His own inner guilt had surmounted against him, to the point where he had difficulty seeing things as they were. Instead, he made a point to idealize his situation, with no regard to wallowing in it, looking at this incident of fate as an opportunity for he and Natalie to rekindle the facet of them that they’d lost along the way. He’d make love to her the way he fantasized about when they were younger, when he could only ogle from afar, touch with the tips of his fingertips, but never fully submerse himself in. It would keep him from admitting fault in himself, at having failed her once again, in an attempt to prove his love and loyalty to her.
How the hell did she view him now?
Helen Chandler was staring at him again, willing him to reveal something. But how could he possibly word it? And wasn’t that Natalie’s role? Who was he, even in his aggressive and loud-mouthed disposition, to speak for his wife that way?
“Helen, did you want to try the tilapia or something else? There’s a ton of great dishes on the menu.”
She cleared her throat. “Brandon Greene, you have about two seconds to tell me what’s going on with my daughter before I lose it.”
“There’s no need.” Natalie’s hand were on his shoulders. Sidney and Maya had returned to their seats, with conscience-stricken expressions slathered on their faces. “I can do that for him.”
He reached for his wife’s hand to stop her. She gazed down at him reassuringly and murmured, “It’s okay. I promise.” Her sense of calm frightened him.
“Natalie, you’d better start talking, girl.”
“Lately, I’ve spent my mornings vomiting to the point where I feel as though I’ve lost ten pounds. I now consume more than the average three hundred pound man. And I once loved pistachio ice cream, but the smell of it makes me vomit even more. I cry more often now than I ever did as a child...over little things here and there that upset me or make me really happy. Like, whenever Brandon cleans up after himself without having me tell him to, or when I get a great grade on a test that I never thought I’d make it through. If you haven’t guessed it already, Mama, Brandon and I are going to have a baby. I’m about two months along. And I was so frightened...the point where I sat in the Dean’s office and withdrew from Duke University’s School of Medicine. I’m sure at this point, they’ve found someone to replace me. Someone young, fresh, and unattached. Someone who hasn’t the slightest clue what it feels like to love someone more than you’ll ever love yourself...and...and give up your life for that person. I’m talking real sacrifice, Mama.”
Natalie returned to her seat that the table, placing her napkin in her lap. Helen was staring at her daughter. Marie was staring at Helen. Sidney and Maya were looking down at their plate chargers. Natalie snaked her hand across his lap and reached for his. She squeezed it tightly. For strength, he figured. Her palms were clammy.
Marie started to cry. “Another great-grandchild? Just for me?”
Natalie smiled. “Yes, grandma.”
Then, Helen glared at him. “You.”
He parted his lips, but the waiter returned to the table and tapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Greene?”
His mouth was dry. He could barely speak. “Yes?”
“The package you requested has been delivered. It’s...uh...it’s in the parking lot.”
Natalie turned to him, brows furrowed and baffled. “What package?”
The shitty timing, in tune with the sinking look of contempt on Helen Chandler’s face, made him feel irreversibly nauseous. “Well...since we’re making unwarranted declarations at your birthday dinner,
He smiled. “She’s fine. I’m looking after her well. We’re better than ever.”
He figured that if he spoke it into existence, then maybe it would become so. His own inner guilt had surmounted against him, to the point where he had difficulty seeing things as they were. Instead, he made a point to idealize his situation, with no regard to wallowing in it, looking at this incident of fate as an opportunity for he and Natalie to rekindle the facet of them that they’d lost along the way. He’d make love to her the way he fantasized about when they were younger, when he could only ogle from afar, touch with the tips of his fingertips, but never fully submerse himself in. It would keep him from admitting fault in himself, at having failed her once again, in an attempt to prove his love and loyalty to her.
How the hell did she view him now?
Helen Chandler was staring at him again, willing him to reveal something. But how could he possibly word it? And wasn’t that Natalie’s role? Who was he, even in his aggressive and loud-mouthed disposition, to speak for his wife that way?
“Helen, did you want to try the tilapia or something else? There’s a ton of great dishes on the menu.”
She cleared her throat. “Brandon Greene, you have about two seconds to tell me what’s going on with my daughter before I lose it.”
“There’s no need.” Natalie’s hand were on his shoulders. Sidney and Maya had returned to their seats, with conscience-stricken expressions slathered on their faces. “I can do that for him.”
He reached for his wife’s hand to stop her. She gazed down at him reassuringly and murmured, “It’s okay. I promise.” Her sense of calm frightened him.
“Natalie, you’d better start talking, girl.”
“Lately, I’ve spent my mornings vomiting to the point where I feel as though I’ve lost ten pounds. I now consume more than the average three hundred pound man. And I once loved pistachio ice cream, but the smell of it makes me vomit even more. I cry more often now than I ever did as a child...over little things here and there that upset me or make me really happy. Like, whenever Brandon cleans up after himself without having me tell him to, or when I get a great grade on a test that I never thought I’d make it through. If you haven’t guessed it already, Mama, Brandon and I are going to have a baby. I’m about two months along. And I was so frightened...the point where I sat in the Dean’s office and withdrew from Duke University’s School of Medicine. I’m sure at this point, they’ve found someone to replace me. Someone young, fresh, and unattached. Someone who hasn’t the slightest clue what it feels like to love someone more than you’ll ever love yourself...and...and give up your life for that person. I’m talking real sacrifice, Mama.”
Natalie returned to her seat that the table, placing her napkin in her lap. Helen was staring at her daughter. Marie was staring at Helen. Sidney and Maya were looking down at their plate chargers. Natalie snaked her hand across his lap and reached for his. She squeezed it tightly. For strength, he figured. Her palms were clammy.
Marie started to cry. “Another great-grandchild? Just for me?”
Natalie smiled. “Yes, grandma.”
Then, Helen glared at him. “You.”
He parted his lips, but the waiter returned to the table and tapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Greene?”
His mouth was dry. He could barely speak. “Yes?”
“The package you requested has been delivered. It’s...uh...it’s in the parking lot.”
Natalie turned to him, brows furrowed and baffled. “What package?”
The shitty timing, in tune with the sinking look of contempt on Helen Chandler’s face, made him feel irreversibly nauseous. “Well...since we’re making unwarranted declarations at your birthday dinner,
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