An Act of Persuasion(101)

“YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG.”

“I’m doing it fine.”

“It’s not snug enough. It’s going to fall off.”

Mark and Sophie had left an hour ago, and Anna and Ben were getting ready to settle their child, and themselves, down for the night.

Ben looked at his baby girl who was squalling her head off in irritation over being exposed to the cool air as he replaced her diaper. Anna kept making him undo the sticky plastic tab and pull it in even farther across her tiny little body before reattaching it.

“I’m going to cut off her circulation.”

“Let me.”

He pushed her away with one arm, careful not to jostle her. She was still slightly bent over from where her cesarean stitches pulled on her stomach.

“I will master this. I will not be defeated by the diaper.” So declaring it, he finished the task and handed Kelly over to her mother.

Both mother and daughter instantly sighed with contentment.

Anna took the couch and kept their daughter cradled in the nook of her elbow. She was still so tiny, but the doctors had no concerns and, based on her ability to screech to the high heavens when she wasn’t one hundred percent happy, Ben knew there was no problem with her lungs.

He sat across from them and thought, for the first time, how tired he was. He hadn’t slept much since he’d come back into the house to find Anna bleeding at the top of the stairs. His body, which at its best was still only eighty percent recovered, was letting him know he’d gone as far as he could go. He leaned his head against the recliner.

He’d been able to pick limited pieces of furniture from his home to move here and that one, as agreed, was relegated to the basement. Everything else he planned to sell. He was hoping the potential buyer for the house might want it fully furnished.

“You should go upstairs and get some sleep. We’re going to chill down here.”

“I’ll sleep down here with you.”

No stairs was a condition of her release, so she’d been sleeping on the couch with Kelly in the bassinet next to her. Ben figured the recliner would be fine for another few nights.

“Ben, you’ve been pushing yourself now for days. I don’t want you to get sick. It could lead to a setback. Go to bed and we’ll be here when you wake up.”

He opened one eye because he didn’t have the energy to open both. “I’ll stay here with you.”

He could hear her chuckle. “So, is that the plan? You’re never going to leave me alone ever again.”

“That’s my current working plan, yes. But to clarify, I’m never leaving the two of you alone...ever.”

“Kelly, your daddy is a nutcase.”

“Kelly,” he murmured. “Your mommy almost died and made Daddy a nutcase.”

He’d meant it as joke, but not really. He didn’t think he would ever forget how it felt in those moments when he was holding her and feeling the damp heat of her blood soak through his clothing. Knowing that their life forces were fundamentally comingled. Did she know? Did she know, even a little bit, how he felt?

He imagined it wasn’t fair that she’d been conscious for his confession when he’d been his most vulnerable with her. Of course, he’d told her again what he knew about her parents and when he’d found out. She’d listened and she’d cried. But the anger she’d felt toward him for keeping it a secret was clearly gone. He wanted to ask her why it had meant so much to her on the night they fought but didn’t seem to matter to her now.

That fight had nearly cost him everything.

He’d never told her the other stuff he said. About loving her. How much easier would it be to think that she had somehow heard everything and took it all inside? That she just knew what was in his head and his heart?

“Ben?”

“Hmm.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“Who?”

“My mother.”

He lifted his head and met her gaze. “I do.”

“I think I want to go see her.”

“Really? Even knowing what you know?”

“She was an addict. An addict who wanted to keep her addiction and her daughter. My father was an addict, too. In his own way he still wanted to try to do right by me. Yes, they both shit the bed when it came to being parents, but I can’t claim that they didn’t care about me. Didn’t love me. Each in their own mixed-up way.”