13
On New Year’s Eve, after much planning, I decided I was going to make a special dessert for Patrick.
The next morning, I woke up, rolled over, and screamed. The little boy who had been sleeping next to me had been replaced by a full-grown man. I levitated three feet off the bed.
“Who the hell are you?”
Michael sat there, looking utterly wounded, as if I’d just committed some unforgivable crime.
Life with a kid, a dog, and a herd of cats had been so all-consuming that I’d almost forgotten I had a husba-
nd working abroad.
I ran a hand through my messy hair. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “My brain wasn’t working. I thought a burglar broke in.”
Patrick, clutching a small pillow my mom had sewn for him, burst through the bedroom door with Buddy a his heels. He had clearly been evicted from my bed by Michael last night, and he was not happy about it. Hi: cheeks were puffed out with fury. “I hate you, Daddy! This is my spot!”
Michael was unyielding. “Says who? Only I get to sleep with your mom. You can go sleep with your ow wife.”
“When you weren’t here, I always slept here.”
“Well, I’m here now. Go sleep somewhere else.”
Patrick dissolved into tears and threw himself into my arms. “Mommy, I want you to be my wife! I want t sleep with you!”
Michael looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.
After breakfast, Michael planned to take Patrick to visit his grandparents.
had no intention of going, but Patrick tugged on my sleeve and whispered, “Mommy, you come too. I’r scared.”
paused, then wrapped my hand tightly around his cold little one.
