Page 76 of Finding the Pieces

“They seriously don’t have any bigger chairs?” Jake murmurs, clearly annoyed. He shifts in his miniature chair trying to get comfortable, his knees practically in his chest.

“Something I’ve learned as a dad will apply to you when you’re on uncle duty too. You don’t get to be comfortable anymore. Take a seat on the couch? The kid’s crawling toward the lamp cord and you’re on your feet again. You sit on the floor next to your kid, and they’re body slamming you like it’s a wrestling match and they’re the rookie with something to prove. Close your eyes at night? Instant wake-up call for tiny ears.”

“I just don’t see why the library can’t have more adult-sized chairs, for fuck’s sake.”

“Watch your mouth, man. You’re going get us kicked out of story time if these kids start dropping f-bombs because of you,” I hiss back at him.

“Shit, sorry.Shit,” Jake says again, slapping his hand across his mouth, unable to control the profanity word vomit from escaping.

Luca’s tottering around the children’s play area of the library. There’s a young woman reading a book to the large group of kids, who are mostly distracted, while a few of the older ones are paying attention and sitting still.

“So, when are we going to talk about it?” Jake asks quietly from our spot along the edge of the story time circle.

“Oh, you mean you didn’t invite yourself to our father-son outing for the young reader literature experience? There’s bubble time afterward. Brace yourself. It’s about to get wild.”

Jake shoots a knowing look straight through me, seeing everything with more clarity than he has any right to.

“I take itlaterisn’t an acceptable answer?” I ask, running my hand along my jaw.

“You’d be right. So, let’s not waste time. Let me get this straight. You have the biggest fight of your relationship, one where the future of yourmarriageis at stake…and you send your wife states away for four nights. What the fuck are you doing, Dom?” At least he remembers to whisper the swear word this time.

“I don’t know. I don’tfuckingknow,” I whisper back. “Bec suggested it, and I’m not exactly in a position to turn down anyone’s help or ideas, since I just seem to make things worse.”

“Well, are you and Ellie talking or have things gone silent at this point?”

“Of course we’re still talking to each other. We talk all day long.”

“You mean texting. You’re texting her all day long.”

“Yeah? So?”

“Let me see your texts.”

“Okay?” I say, before reaching into my pocket and handing him my phone.

“Damn, this is bad.”

“You haven’t even looked,” I say, growing frustrated and earning a weird look from the dad across the circle. I wave him off with an apologetic nod.

“If you were having the right kind of conversations, then you wouldn’t let me see your phone,” he says.

“Are you serious? I’m not sexting my wife when we’ve just had a huge fight and she’s on vacation with her friends. I’m trying to be a supportive husband.”

He scrolls through our messages with the same look of concentration as me. We look a lot alike, broad shouldered, both with dark, messy hair and short beards. His normal appearance and disposition tend to be more serious thanmine, but that furrowed brow when we’re focused is identical. Luca is starting to make the same face. It’s cute on that kid. But seeing it on Jake right now has me feeling defensive.

“These are about Luca,” he states plainly.

“Yeah, I don’t want Ellie to worry. I’ve been sending updates so she doesn’t have to ask for them. And we’re video-chatting before bed so she can say goodnight to him. She’s actually doing really well…” My voice fades when I catch his stare. “What?”

“I just saw at least fifteen pictures of Luca, ten updates on how much he ate, and unfortunately, more texts about poop than I ever wanted to see in my lifetime. Why do you guys text so much about him pooping?”

“If you think this is a lot of shit talk, you should have seen our messages in the first three months. Trust me, man, you got to know your kid’s shit, or the whole family system is in jeopardy. If the kid’s not pooping right, everyone’s unhappy.”

“What I mean is, where is theromance? Where is theaffection? Come on, Dom. This is your bread and butter. You’re always telling everyone else—your wife, your friends, your family—how to take care of themselves and the relationships that are important to them. What about you?”

“Are you serious, Jake? I’m fine. I’m not the one who…”

“Not the one whowhat? You and Ellie never talk to any of us about what happened or what’s going on with you two when we’re not hanging out together. You were obviously there the day Luca was born, too, and you still haven’t even talked to me about it.”

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