Page 40 of My Wife
He must get a second wind because he starts climbing around, a real wriggle worm. He alternately pats my cheeks and sucks his thumb. I can tell he’s tired and isn’t used to a routine.
As I carry him over to his bed, he chomps down on my shoulder hard with his little teeth. I yelp. He launches out of my grasp and onto the mattress. Eyes wide with fear, he stares up at me. I want to be upset as I rub my shoulder. His eyes fill with tears.
“That hurt me.”
He repeatedly signs that he wants a hug.
I think about what Grandma Dolly would do and explain that we don’t bite. I sign that it hurt and we don’t hurt each other. We can hold hands and hug. But we don’t bite.
He stares at me as if starved for attention like he feels some unnamable pain inside. I do my best to relay what an apology is and show him the sign for sorry.
I accept his apology and make sure he knows that he’s forgiven.
His lip wobbles as he figures out the motion forsorry.
After a few more minutes, his eyes dip and he dozes off. I slip out of the room and follow a grunting sound where I find Liam doing pushups. He’s already broken a sweat as his muscles flex and strain.
“Your son is really sweet, uh, except he bit me.”
Grunt.
“What do you know about DHH?”
Double grunt.
“Does he have extreme hearing loss or moderate?”
I expect Liam to continue to ignore me, but he pops onto his feet with cat-like reflexes and says, “Your position is restricted to personal assistant duties.”
I press my lips together to keep from saying,In that case, your position is restricted to dad duties. “What’s first?”
“I’ll text you a list along with expectations later today.”
Rules, an operating agreement, expectations, and a purely professional relationship for a limited amount of time. Got it.
He narrows his eyes as if expecting me to say something sassy.
So I do. “And making sure your socks match.”
They do now.
He squints at me.
“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner. Liam Ellis is capable of dressing himself. Two black athletic socks for the win.”
I don’t even get the hint of humor in response.
“Since this is your rodeo, I’ll let you take the lead. Should I be self-directed and find some things to do? Will you bark orders? Do you want me to stand at attention in the corner until my services are needed?”
“I didn’t sign up for this, Jessica.”
“Clearly.”
But I’m not sure whether he’s talking about having an assistant or something else … parenthood?
Flipping over to do situps, he grinds out, “You can show yourself out the door.”
I watch for a moment, mesmerized by his ability to push through a full sit-up, not a crunch or the assisted kind with someone holding down his feet. He presses on. And I will too, no matter how disagreeable he is. My sunshine was hard won and no one, least of all Liam Ellis, is going to take it away.
