Page 76 of Crazy In Love
She sits right where I sat a moment ago, dropping her posture and exhaling a long, noisy breath. “I slept all night, and I still feel like I could sleep for a year.”
“You’re recovering from having a baby.” I choke on my tongue and lock eyes with Chris’, his nose just inches from Alana’s foot. “It hasn’t even been a week yet, Lan. You’re almost over the worst of it.”
“I forgot how rough the hormones are.” She brings sad, sleepy eyes to mine, the whites shining a light pink, like she’s been crying… or perhapsneedsto cry. “I forgot how cruel it all is, tearing ourselves apart, making our bodies available to a baby to eat from. Then we have the massive hormone dump, and even with the world’s sweetest, most attentive partner, I’m still waking every two hours through the night.” She pouts. “Prisoners of war are treated more humanely than this.”
“Aw.” I cough out a soft, amused snicker, and carrying baby Hazel with me, I wander to the coffee machine some wonderful soul had placed in here before I arrived. “You need caffeine, babes. You need a pick-me-up like your life depends on it.”
“I need a reminder next time I consider having a baby that, no, I probably shouldn’t. No more sex for me. No more sex ever.”
I snort, juggling the baby in just one hand while I place a mug under the Keurig spout with the other. “Sex is fun, though. Doesn’t always have to end with a baby.”
“Sex is really,reallyfun,” she sulks, slumping, and, without paying true attention to what the hell she’s doing, she grabs my bottle of lube and studies the label as though it’s as ordinary as a bottle of soda. Or shampoo. “Sex with Tommy is like… Itusedto be a lot of fun. But now I have stitches that go from my butthole to my vagina, and I’m honestly not sure I’ll let that poor man touch me ever again.”
In pain, Chris’ eyes glitter and strain, his hands clamping over his ears.
My cheeks blaze bright, bright red. I feel the warmth.
“Well…” I cough out a nervous laugh. “I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end. Tommy will be patient, and your stitches will eventually go away. Your vagina will go back to its normal shape, and life will go on.”
Chris shakes his head.No, no, no, no, no, no. Please make it stop.
“You don’t need to worry about sex right now, Lan. Your body is not ready, and even if your vagina was fine, you still have a giant, gaping wound inside of you where Hazel was just a week ago. Focus on you and on healing, and everything else will work out.” I walk to the fridge and take out a carton of creamer, and since it’s good for her breastmilk, I add a little extra to Alana’s mug. “Is there a reason you came by today, or did you just need some girl time?”
Tears well up in her eyes and spill onto her cheeks. “Do Ineeda reason? Can’t I just want to see my best friend without a gold-etched invitation?”
“Of course, you can come without a reason.” I’ve lived this one-week-postpartum-Alana before, so I stroll back to the bed and sit down beside her, leaning across to place her coffee on the bedside table. “You’re welcome in my life any day of the week, sweetpea. You never have to call or ask for permission.”
“I just love you so much,” she cries. “And last time I did this, we were practically living together. You saved my life, and I love you so much for it. But now I’m basically married to Tommy, and I love him, too. But I missyou! I miss you being in my bed sometimes, and I miss staying up late with you, watching a movie, even though I was tired, since I knew Franky wouldbe awake at midnight anyway, so we waited up for that feed together, then we all slept for a few blissful hours.”
“You’re talking in really long sentences, babe. You understand this is your hormones, right? You’re experiencing the baby blues, and that’s why you feel this way.”
“I feel this way because I miss you!” Sobbing, she wraps her arm over my shoulder and rests her cheek against mine. Then she hisses in pain.Ouch. “I wish New York and Plainview were the same place. I wish we lived in the same town again, ‘cos I don’t want to move away from Tommy, but you don’t want to move away from New York. Now my heart is torn in two, and I’m the baby.”
“The baby?”
“Solomon’s baby!” Her chest heaves from her stuttered breaths, her lungs spasming for air. “Didn’t Solomon tear his baby in half?”
“Uh…” I grit my teeth. “I’m not sure, sweetie. I never went to Sunday school.”
“I’m pretty sure,” she hiccups. “I’m pretty sure that’s what the story was about! Neither parent loved the baby more than they hated the other, so they tore it in half. Now you’re in New York, and I’m here, and Tommy’s here, and I love Chris, too!”
Good.If nothing else, I’m glad he gets to hear her say so during her hormonal rant.
“You don’t have to worry about Solomon or the baby, sweetie. Because I’m not tearing you. I’ll never beg you to choose me.”
“I’m begging you to choose me!” She brings devastated eyes around, trembling jaw and shaking lips. “I want to co-parent my baby girl with you, the same way I co-parented Franky with you. And I’m sorry!”
“You’re sorry?”
“I’m sorry because I didn’t even consider what taking him away would do to you.Weco-parented him! Me and you. But I just took him! I didn’t even ask your permission. I just said, ‘hey, we’re moving to Bumfuck Nowhere next Thursday. Deal with it.’”
Snickering, I reach across and wipe her tears. “I forgive you.”
“Or maybe you didn’t even care at all. Maybe you were relieved to be rid of us because I was the needy, whiny, annoying trauma girl who dumped her trauma on your head even though you didn’t even ask to hear the story, then I trauma dumped my trauma into a trauma book and made you read every single draft,and then,” she raises her voice an octave or two, “then! I didn’t even sell the stupid book because I was afraid to trauma dump my trauma all over the country. But then I moved to Plainview anddidn’ttrauma dump my trauma all over Tommy because I didn’t want to hurt his heart. And I didn’t want to hurt Chris’ heart. And I didn’t want either of them to go to jail. But it was all for nothing, ‘cos they saw it on the news, anyway. Then they went to Grady’s hotel, and I just…” She whimpers, big fat tears dribbling over her cheeks. “I’m pretty sure they hurt him real bad, Fox. Like, really, really bad. But I’m too scared to ask, and Tommy is too much of a gentleman to say so. And for as long as no one says it out loud, they won’t go to prison.”
I hold my silence, knowing she needs to purge. Brutally aware she has a million feelings bottled up inside her beautiful brain.
“And I know Ollie feels guilty, too,” she cries. “Even though he didn’t do anything wrong. And sure, he hurt my feelings when he was mean to me about leaving, and for just a second, one teeny tiny little second, in my brain, I thought, ‘Well, I wouldn’t have left if you never got arrested, you jerkoff!’ But that’s a vile, horrible thought, and I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to think that thought, but now I think he thinks those thoughts, and I don’t know how to make it all better.”
