I’m about to get annoyed at the kid—we’re in the final stretch of the game, after all—when Jack speaks up.
“Slap my hand, and I’ll switch you out,” he suggests, leaning far over to make it easy. “Hurry, man, you can do it. We’ve gotta save her.”
Lenny actually does it, theatrically reaching out in slow motion like it’s sucking the life out of him. I watch while the awkward kid grins as Jack rushes toward Paige with the pink unicorn tube.
“I’m coming, princess!” Jack hollers.
I shake my head. Lenny is as socially inept as it gets. Yet Jack has a way of taking the edge off, making him appear normal almost. Jack’s a better person than I was at his age. Than I am now, actually. Parker’s been telling me I should let up on the guy when I gripe about his performance in games. He’s nice to Lenny and all, but no one goes out of their way like Jack does.
Jack’s a good kid, I decide as he crosses the golden floating finish line with the princess at last. Safe from enemy territory. “You might have defeated us this time,” I snarl, wiping the water off my face. “But we’ll be back.”
Paige giggles and pumps a fist. “We did it,” she says, giving Jack a high five.
Parker rolls his eyes. I know he’s getting old for games like this, but Paige is at the perfect age for them. I’m glad he’ll still suck it up and play along.
“Okay, guys,” I tell them, “you’ve earned yourself two hours of freedom. Go to the outdoor hot tubs if you want. Pick up chicks. Kick back Cokes. Just be in front of the hotel ready for practice by four. You got it?”
Lenny, whose folks didn’t come, nods, climbs out of the pool, and heads for the stack of towels nearby. Parker and Jack say their goodbyes to Paige, sending her floating back toward me on the unicorn floatie.
Inwardly, there’s a puzzle I’m working to solve, but I’m just not sure what it is. Whatever’s bothering me is sitting someplace beyond reach. Dangling in the fray. I’m in sales, which means I make a habit of figuring people out. They’re like puzzles to me at first; I collect pieces at a time through Zoom calls, dinner parties, and drinks at the clubhouse. All the while, I’m searching for that one key to unlock their need for one of our plans.
Yet before it strikes, before I crack someone’s specific code, I get a sensation that feels just like this. Only this time, I have no idea what puzzle I’m trying to solve. What answer is floating beyond my grasp.
“Are you upset, Daddy?” Paige asks, her tiny toes dangling off the edge of her floatie.
“No,” I say. “Why?”
“You told Mommy you were mad she wasn’t coming.”
“I wish shehadcome,” I say. “And I thought you were singing when Mommy and I were talking.”
“I stopped so I could hear you guys. It’s mean of Mom to stay home.”
“She doesn’t feel well, Pumpkin.” I reach out and secure her withered, waterlogged feet in my hands.
“She said you’re only mad cuz you can’tpump ironin the hotel gym now.”
I roll my eyes, not liking how much Paige had overheard. The fact is, since Parker and Paige’s nanny griped about Trish’s girls’ trips, I’ve been bothered by them myself. I’ve been skipping the gym more than ever; at least one of us should be at the crossroads with our kids, and that’s what I thought Trish wanted, too. To be there before they went to school. And when they got back. Is that too much to ask? I feel like I’m juggling it all by myself lately. And when Trishishome, she’s racing from one appointment to the next. Tanning, nails, hair, lashes, waxing. Not to mention shopping.
I never wanted her to feel trapped or resent parenthood by being a stay-at-home mom, but I had no idea she’d want so little to do with our kids.
So, yeah, forgive me for thinking I’d finally get to have a couple of hours to myself at the gym without making our kids feel like they’re being raised by nannies. Forgive me for thinking I’d actually get a sliver of vacation time for myself while Trish lounged in the pool with Paige. It feels like I’m both the stay-at-home parent and the breadwinner. It’s exhausting.
I wonder why Jack doesn’t have any siblings. Kirsten Hill seems like a good mom. One who’s actually involved in her son’s life. Heck, before I knocked to pick him up for the party, I actually heard Kirsten ask him if Lydia would be at the party. I, of course, know who Lydia is. She’s Jack’s mega crush, who also happens to be besties with Parker’s mega crush, Angie. I know because Parker tells me stuff like that when we shoot hoops or play video games. But would Trish ever know that? No.
I fling myself onto my back, extending my arms and pulling Paige along with me as I kick us across the pool. It comes to my attention that I’m nearing that mental fray. The spot that’s been pestering me for I’m not sure how long. It involves Trish.
“Boop,” Paige chimes. “We’re at the edge.”
I spin us in the opposite direction and kick again. Maybe I just feel guilty for being so…disappointed in Trish. I should have known a woman who was so obsessed with all those things before I married her wouldn’t suddenly change after we had kids.
I need to try harder with Trish. I should send her some roses. Send her some dinner. I bet she hasn’t fixed herself anything. I laugh as I picture what she’s probably doing at this very moment. Soaking in the tub with a bottle of wine at her side while she catches up on episodes of her favorite drama.
“Hey,” I say to Paige as I come to a stand and grab a few towels. “Let’s go back to the room and call Mom. Maybe we can even send her some flowers and food. Do you think she’ll like that?”
Paige claps her hands together and pulls that cheesy wide grin I love so much. “Yes! Yay! She will love that!”
As we dry off, gather our things, and slip into our slides—mine with the Seahawks logo, Paige’s with mermaids—I feel better already. That’s all I needed to do: show my wife some love. It feels good to do things for her.
