The Book Club Hotel(107)
She imagined them, side by side on the sofa, and the tight knot inside her slowly unraveled. Pete had shown Daniel that whatever happened he was right beside him. In his corner, always.
A lump settled in her throat. Sometimes she felt as if the kids were her responsibility, but that wasn’t true, was it? Right from the moment they were born Pete had been looking out for them, too. And he was still looking out for them.
“Why didn’t you tell me all this when we spoke?”
“About Daniel? Because I didn’t need to. I knew you’d worry and I didn’t want you to worry. I handled it. As for the rest of it, I’m proud and stubborn and I like to think I’m a modern man. But apparently, there are certain household tasks which defeat me, which is humiliating to admit. Somehow we’ve fallen into traditional roles. I take out the trash, sort out winter tires for the car and fix windows that won’t open and clear the snow. You do everything else.”
Anna felt love seep through her, filling every corner of her. “I’m glad you do those things, because I hate doing them. And who cares if we’re ridiculously traditional when it comes to the domestic stuff? It works for us. We’re happy with the arrangement. That’s all that matters.” Her eyes filled. “And you’re forgetting to mention all the years you’ve trekked to the office even when the job has been horrible. You did whatever it took to support us, so that I could have my dream and stay at home with the kids.” She thought about all the times he’d been there for her. All the times his calm, unflappable nature had made a bad situation better. He was strong, and kind, and good. And he was hers. “Oh, Pete—” The relief was so intense she felt shaky. “I’m so pleased.”
“You’re pleased I’m incompetent?”
“You’re not incompetent. I’m pleased that’s the reason you didn’t call.”
“What other reason would there be?”
“I upset you. Because all I’ve thought about lately is the kids leaving.”
“I was upset, but that was my problem. Seeing you distressed about something I can’t help with makes me feel helpless. Inadequate.”
She was stunned. “Inadequate? How?”
“Because this is our family. It’s my job to make sure everything is stable and everyone is happy. If one of the kids has an issue, I’m going to do what I can to fix it or help them fix it themselves. Same for you. But I couldn’t see a way to help you with this.”
Things suddenly started to make more sense. “Is that why you suggested another baby?”
“Desperate measures. I didn’t know what to do, Anna. I wanted there to be a simple solution. I wanted us to be enough.”
It was a struggle to hold back the emotion. “We are enough. More than enough.”
“Remember that conversation we had in the kitchen when we were talking about the Christmas tree? You said you didn’t regret having the kids. You said they were the best thing that ever happened to you and I agreed.”
“Yes.” She wondered where he was going with this.
“I was wrong.” He paused. “The kids aren’t the best thing that ever happened to me, Anna. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me because without you there would be no kids. There would be no cozy, welcoming home. There would be no laughter and warmth. It’s you, Anna. For me, it’s always been you. You’re everything.”
You’re everything.
She gave up trying to fight the emotion. Tears slid down her cheeks.
“You’re everything to me, too. And I owe you an apology. A big one. I hurt you—” her voice cracked “—and I feel terrible about that. I was thoughtless and careless and I will never do that again. I don’t know when I became so focused on the kids, but that’s going to change. Yes, I feel sad about the fact that everything is changing, but I’m also excited. I’m excited about all the things we’re going to get to do that we couldn’t possibly have done when we had kids living at home. And I should have said that before now. I’m sorry, Pete.” She’d used up all her tissues on Erica’s wine accident, so she wiped her tears with her sleeve.
“Don’t cry, honey.” His voice was soft. “Honestly? It’s good to know you’re not actually perfect after all.”
She gave a choked laugh. “What are you talking about? Of course I’m perfect.” It was a relief to joke about it, a relief to feel that warmth between them once again.
“In fact, you are pretty perfect. After this week I think I’m understanding more about why you feel the way you do. This home stuff is all-consuming and sometimes I forget that. It’s your whole world. It’s more than losing your job, because normally, if you lose your job you still have a home. But in your case, home fills your life. I’m sorry I didn’t really get that.”
She finally found a tissue and blew her nose. “And I’m sorry if I made you feel for one second that you weren’t enough. Or important. Or that I wasn’t looking forward to exploring a new life together.” Her voice cracked. “I love you so much.”
“I know you do. And I love you.” His voice softened. “What I said about having another baby—I know it was a wild suggestion, but I meant it. If that’s what you want, let’s do it.”