My head came up.
“We wanted them. You were the one showing me nursery ideas before I was even pregnant.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You’re the one who wanted kids.”
“No, I don’t, Derek. I don’t even know who you are right now.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I’m exhausted, Hope. Moms don’t get sick days.”
I looked down at my cast.
“I’m injured.”
“That’s not my problem.”
“I don’t even know who you are right now.”
I stared at him.
“I’m asking you to help me a little.”
“You take care of them. That’s your job.”
He walked out.
Miles kept crying.
Luke grabbed the edge of my cast with both hands.
“You take care of them. That’s your job.”
I gently freed myself and whispered, “Okay. I’ve got you.”
I’ve got it. I’m fine.
I’d been saying both for too long.
***
My mom, Noelle, came over the next afternoon.
She found me wiping formula off the counter with my good hand while Luke kicked in his seat.
“Okay. I’ve got you.”
“Hope.”
“I’m almost done.”
She took the cloth from me.
“Sit.”
“Mom, it’s sticky.”
“It’ll still be sticky in five minutes.”
“I’m almost done.”
I sat.
She found my tea in the microwave.
“You reheated this already?”
“Twice.”
Mom knew I cleaned when I was overwhelmed.
She made me a fresh cup.
“You reheated this already?”
“Where’s Derek?”
“Work.”
“And when he gets home?”
“He’ll be tired, of course.”
Mom gave me a look.
I took a sip.
“I’m fine.”
“He’ll be tired, of course.”
“There’s that voice you use when you’re lying to me, Hope.”
I looked away.
Mom didn’t lecture me. She just helped with the boys, washed bottles, made dinner, and left after we’d eaten.
***
That night, Miles woke first.
Then Luke followed with his loud cries.
I nudged Derek.
“There’s that voice you use when you’re lying to me, Hope.”
“Can you take Luke?”
He rolled onto his stomach.
“I have work.”
“So?”
“I have to be up in four hours.”
Luke’s crying grew louder.
