“That’s why I think it’s better if I take a step back for a minute. Just to reset. The guys and I booked a place in Cabo. Two weeks. I’ll come back and I’ll be a way better dad, I promise. I just can’t be useful to anyone right now.”
“Cabo?”
“It’s already paid for.” He winced, apologetic, as if the money were the tragic part. “Luke’s picking me up in five.”
“You booked a trip?”
“I need this, baby. For us. For the girls, honestly.”
“It’s already paid for.”
The fussing turned into a full cry. Then a second one joined in.
“Eric, you can’t be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious.” He crossed the kitchen and kissed the top of my head as if I were a niece he was proud of. “You’re so strong. You’ve got this. Naomi’s around, right?”
“She works. She has her own life.”
“Eric, you can’t be serious.”
“Buuut…she loves the babies.”
“Eric, please.”
My husband was already wheeling the suitcase toward the front door. A car horn tapped outside, short and cheerful.
“Two weeks,” he said. “I’ll bring you back something nice!”
“Don’t do this.”
He opened the door. Sunlight cut across the entryway. He didn’t turn around.
“You’ll thank me later!”
The door clicked shut.
“Don’t do this.”
I stood in the doorway with a warm bottle in one hand and Ava, our loudest, screaming against my collarbone. Down the hall, her sisters answered her, one after the other, until the whole house was crying in a jagged chorus.
I looked at the closed door.
Fourteen days. I had no idea how I was going to survive 14 days.
I looked at the closed door.
***
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