All the muscles in my body tense. He’s my husband, and I love him. I’ve supported him up and down every path of this career journey, and I have no regrets about that. I was thrilled the day he purchased the building (for which I provided the down payment, and my name is on the deed). When he hung his sign out front, we celebrated with champagne. And on the first night he opened his doors, I took my parents, and we all ordered the most expensive items on the menu. But that was then, and the journey has been arduous ever since.
I’m not just referring to Nate’s obsession with the restaurant, or the fact that I lost both my parents in the first few years of business. Then COVID-19 was especially difficult. Nate wasn’t easy to live with during Oblique’s closure. He became irritable and closed off, and he still hasn’t returned to his old self.
“I’m not sure about that,” I reply, because in all honesty, I’m not confident that he’ll ever be able to pay it back. Maybe if he gets the star, it’ll all work out, but I can’t help but feel it’s a pipe dream. “Thatmoney is our nest egg for retirement,” I remind him. “And it’s meant to cover the kids’ education.”
“Yes, of course we want to do that,” he replies. “And we will. But that’s at least two years away.”
“Time moves quickly,” I remind him.
We stare at each other across the width of the family room, and I hate this. I can’t bear to say no to him, but I don’t want to be irresponsible with the money I’ve set aside for the future. The money that came from the sale of my company.
“Is that a firm no?” he asks, sounding disappointed, which makes me feel like a greedy old miser.
“It’s late,” I reply. “You know I can’t make important decisions past midnight, when my brain stops working. Let me think about it, okay? We’ll talk again tomorrow.”
“All right.” He gestures toward Oscar. “You should go to bed and take that little guy. He needs a good night’s sleep so that we can start fresh in the morning.”
I take a deep breath to ease the tension in my body. “Yes, you guys definitely got off on the wrong foot.” I sit forward and pat Oscar’s head. “Can I do anything for you?” I ask Nate. “Freshen up your drink? Make you a plate of nachos?”
“No, thanks. I just need to chill and watch some basketball.”
This all feels terribly superficial, as if we’re both uneasy with the conversation we’ve just had and we’re keeping our emotional cards close to our chests.
I wish it wasn’t like this, and I still don’t know how in the world we got here.
I rise from the chair. “Don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t.”
“And I’m sorry about that fire today, but we’ll figure it out.”
He meets my gaze intensely. “We have to, because I can’t lose Oblique, Sienna. YouknowI can’t.”
As I stare at him, I feel an immense pressure to help him get through this ordeal—because I understand who he is. Nate needs his restaurant to succeed because he can’t give his father the satisfaction of saying “I told you so.”
But then I remind myself that Nate hasn’t spoken to that wretched man in years. Bill hasn’t even met his grandchildren. At this point, I don’t know why it matters to Nate what his father thinks. I certainly don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, Bill Palmer is persona non grata.
But I keep this to myself, which only serves to accentuate the deep emotional chasm between my husband and me.
“We’ll talk again tomorrow,” I say as I lead Oscar from the room. I walk him to Amanda’s door, where I pick him up, carry him inside to her bed, and set him down gently beside her.
“Go to sleep,” I whisper and give Oscar a kiss on the head before placing one on Amanda’s head as well.
Oscar drops his chin to his front paws and, with those big, beautiful brown eyes, watches me back out of the room.
At some point during the night, long after Nate has crawled into bed beside me and fallen into a deep slumber, I wake to a presence and the strong sense that I’m being watched. The room is pitch black, so I reach for my phone on the bedside table and raise it to check the time. It’s 2:48 a.m. As I set it back down, the bluish light from the screen shines on a pair of big brown eyes staring up at me.
It’s Oscar, and I wonder how long he’s been sitting there.
“Hey,” I whisper as I lower my hand to let him sniff it.
He whimpers softly, as if he doesn’t want to wake anyone, but it’s enough to let me know that he’s anxious.
“Are you lonely?” I ask. “Do you want to come up?”
I slide out of bed and carefully lift him onto the mattress. He waits for me to settle under the covers before he snuggles next to me. Soon, we’re spooning like I used to do with Scooter.
“I know you miss your person,” I whisper in his ear as I move my hand to his chest and feel his little heart beating beneath my palm. “I know what that feels like, but you’re in a safe place now. I promise we’ll love you and take good care of you. For the rest of your days.”
