my hand on my chest, Max
army crawled across the mattress and up my body, sharp little
elbows shoving into my flesh. Finally he crawled into my arms. He
draped himself over me and pillowed his head in the same dip of my
shoulder that Ava sleeps on. “What was the nightmare about this
time?” I asked Ava.
“I haven’t been able to get him to talk. He won’t say
anything. I know he’s happy you're home though.”
“I’m happy I’m home, too. I missed you both.” My lips
pressed into the top of Max’s head a dozen or so times and my legs
bounced in a soothing, rocking rhythm. I rubbed Max’s back and he
sniffled.
“Will you tell me, Max? What did you see?”
He didn’t answer me so I talked quietly in his ear
telling him over and over again how much I love him.
“I love you, sweet boy. I know what you see sometimes
when you sleep is scary, but all you have to do is open your eyes
and we will be right here for you. Will you talk to me?
Please?”
Max’s arms squeezed me tighter and he pushed his face
deeper into my shirt, breathing me in, sucking the air away from my
skin the same way as Ava.
“You alright, Ava?” I reached out and tucked her
under my other arm.
“Mmm hmm.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” She wasn’t going to tell me about
the anxiety attack.
“What was your trigger?”
“Ugh,” she sighed. “It wasn’t a big deal. The whole
ordeal lasted five minutes.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Does your mom ever just mind her own business?”
“No. Never.”
“I don’t know what the trigger was, Ari. I’d tell you
if I knew but your mom and I were talking about you and the baby
and Max and the next thing I knew, I felt as if I couldn’t
breathe.”
“She said Max was there when it happened.” My legs
kept their gentle shake and my palm continued to soothe him by
slowly sliding up and down his small back. Max’s eyelids were heavy
and each of his blinks lasted a bit longer than the last one. “She
said that it scared him.”
“It did scare him. It scared me, too. I’m not a
pretty person to be around when an anxiety attack happens.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“You were at work, Ari. What would you have done
besides worry about nothing?”
“I could have come home. Work isn’t number one or
number two or three, I don’t even rank the place. You are my number
one. You’re my whole world. I want to be here for you. Always.
“I was ok. I had my own work to do anyway.” She
gestured to her open laptop at the foot of the bed. “ And I
had plans to watch the Cubs game tonight without your commentary in
the background.”
“Are they winning?”
“ Pfft ,” Ava’s version of a no.
“What are you working on?” I pointed to her
laptop.
“The fundraiser.”
“Yeah? How’s it coming?”
“Great. We have enough donated prints to fill the
whole gallery. I’ve sold most of the tickets -- I have just a few
tables left to fill, and the menu is set.”
“Oh, what are we eating?”
“A bunch of stuff but the main course is smoked
salmon, followed by a seafood medley on asparagus with ravioli and
pesto.”
“That sounds so freaking good. I am starving.”
Ava giggled and my heart thudded and smiled. “How
many people will be seated at each table?”
“Eight.” Her forehead crinkled. “Why do you ask?”
“Can I reserve a whole table from you?”
“You already have a ticket -- you’re my date so you
have to sit by me…Please. Why do you need an entire table?”
“I’d like to contribute to House to Home and
some of my staff was asking about the evening and when I told them
it was five hundred a plate, people kind of cringed. So, I thought
I could just buy a table’s worth of seats and they can come and
still afford to bid on the prints and the door prizes. I hear
Margaux is donating a shopping spree at the L.A. store as a door
prize and I know a bunch of people who would kill for that.”
“Pay up, Alexander,” Ava
army crawled across the mattress and up my body, sharp little
elbows shoving into my flesh. Finally he crawled into my arms. He
draped himself over me and pillowed his head in the same dip of my
shoulder that Ava sleeps on. “What was the nightmare about this
time?” I asked Ava.
“I haven’t been able to get him to talk. He won’t say
anything. I know he’s happy you're home though.”
“I’m happy I’m home, too. I missed you both.” My lips
pressed into the top of Max’s head a dozen or so times and my legs
bounced in a soothing, rocking rhythm. I rubbed Max’s back and he
sniffled.
“Will you tell me, Max? What did you see?”
He didn’t answer me so I talked quietly in his ear
telling him over and over again how much I love him.
“I love you, sweet boy. I know what you see sometimes
when you sleep is scary, but all you have to do is open your eyes
and we will be right here for you. Will you talk to me?
Please?”
Max’s arms squeezed me tighter and he pushed his face
deeper into my shirt, breathing me in, sucking the air away from my
skin the same way as Ava.
“You alright, Ava?” I reached out and tucked her
under my other arm.
“Mmm hmm.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” She wasn’t going to tell me about
the anxiety attack.
“What was your trigger?”
“Ugh,” she sighed. “It wasn’t a big deal. The whole
ordeal lasted five minutes.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Does your mom ever just mind her own business?”
“No. Never.”
“I don’t know what the trigger was, Ari. I’d tell you
if I knew but your mom and I were talking about you and the baby
and Max and the next thing I knew, I felt as if I couldn’t
breathe.”
“She said Max was there when it happened.” My legs
kept their gentle shake and my palm continued to soothe him by
slowly sliding up and down his small back. Max’s eyelids were heavy
and each of his blinks lasted a bit longer than the last one. “She
said that it scared him.”
“It did scare him. It scared me, too. I’m not a
pretty person to be around when an anxiety attack happens.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“You were at work, Ari. What would you have done
besides worry about nothing?”
“I could have come home. Work isn’t number one or
number two or three, I don’t even rank the place. You are my number
one. You’re my whole world. I want to be here for you. Always.
“I was ok. I had my own work to do anyway.” She
gestured to her open laptop at the foot of the bed. “ And I
had plans to watch the Cubs game tonight without your commentary in
the background.”
“Are they winning?”
“ Pfft ,” Ava’s version of a no.
“What are you working on?” I pointed to her
laptop.
“The fundraiser.”
“Yeah? How’s it coming?”
“Great. We have enough donated prints to fill the
whole gallery. I’ve sold most of the tickets -- I have just a few
tables left to fill, and the menu is set.”
“Oh, what are we eating?”
“A bunch of stuff but the main course is smoked
salmon, followed by a seafood medley on asparagus with ravioli and
pesto.”
“That sounds so freaking good. I am starving.”
Ava giggled and my heart thudded and smiled. “How
many people will be seated at each table?”
“Eight.” Her forehead crinkled. “Why do you ask?”
“Can I reserve a whole table from you?”
“You already have a ticket -- you’re my date so you
have to sit by me…Please. Why do you need an entire table?”
“I’d like to contribute to House to Home and
some of my staff was asking about the evening and when I told them
it was five hundred a plate, people kind of cringed. So, I thought
I could just buy a table’s worth of seats and they can come and
still afford to bid on the prints and the door prizes. I hear
Margaux is donating a shopping spree at the L.A. store as a door
prize and I know a bunch of people who would kill for that.”
“Pay up, Alexander,” Ava
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