it would be all Lars’s fault. Except actually it would be mine for being so tightly wound that I was unable to say, normally and without accusation, But I’ll miss you. And I’m so bummed. And Do you really have to go?
Baby Maggie squirmed and reached for Lars. I looped my arms over hers and straitjacketed them to her pudgy body.
“Winnie, I don’t want to go to Germany,” Lars said. “This isn’t something I’m choosing to do.”
“But you’re not choosing not to,” I said.
“We don’t leave until June fifteenth. We’ll have two full weeks of summer, two full weeks to spend with each other after school lets out.”
“Two whole weeks! Wh-hoo!”
He massaged his temples. I was making him feel bad, and that made me feel bad. Only it also made me feel better, in a bitter pill sort of way.
“Come back and sit by me,” he said. “I miss you.”
“You can’t ’miss’ me,” I said. “I’m on the other end of the sofa, not in a whole different country.”
He reached for me. I resisted at first, then relented, because I missed him, too, despite his upcoming trip to stupid Germany.
He pulled on my arm, and I let my body slump like a felled tree until my cheekbone met Lars’s lap. I shuffled baby Maggie so that she lay sideways, too, spooned against me with her head tucked beneath my chin. I was careful of her soft spot.
Lars finger-combed my hair. It felt like heaven, not that I was about to tell him.
I am the mommy and you are the daddy and this is our baby, I thought despondently. The words hovered at the edge of consciousness.
Then Maggie pooped. It was a long, spluttering, ptttpttt-pttt of a poop.
Lars’s hand stilled. “I think ... um ...”
I pushed myself up with a groan. “Yeah.” I held Maggie a few inches away from my body, because Maggie’s diapers sometimes leaked.
“Come on, Stinky,” I said to her. “Let’s get you changed.”
“Hey now,” Lars said, pretending to be offended. “Who are you calling Stinky?”
I looked at him—the first full-on look since Germany invaded—and said, “Ha ha.”
He was visibly relieved at our eye contact. “I’ll e-mail you. Every day.”
“Great,” I said flatly.
And now he was less relieved. I could tell by the way his Adam’s apple jerked up and down. But instead of feeling bad for worrying him, or sad that this was happening, I felt the urge to pull away from him.
“We’re good, right?” he said, and if I were in the right mood, I would be touched by his concern. He didn’t want to go with his family to Germany. I believed him. He would miss me. I believed that, too. But while I could see all that sweet-Lars angst, it didn’t exactly ... make its way to my heart.
“Of course we’re good,” I said, as if the topic was rather boring. “Things don’t always go according to plan. That’s just the way it goes.” I gave a wry smile and lifted Maggie’s smelly bottom for emphasis. “Poop happens.”
He laughed too hard. I mean, I was funny, but not that funny.
“Maybe I’ll go to leadership camp with Dinah after all,” I threw out. “I mean, as long as you’re going to Germany.”
“Really?” Lars said, obviously startled. He smoothed his expression to hide it. “I mean, sure. Why not?”
Sure, why not? Excuse me, but who was he to give me permission?
“As long as it’s not fire-walking camp,” he said, laughing in a way that, to me, sounded forced.
I regarded him stonily. “I could learn to walk on fire.”
“Or teen nudist camp,” he said with more hardy-harhars.
“I don’t know. A full-body tan might be nice.”
His hardy-har turned into a nervous chuckle, which turned into another up-and-down jerk of his Adam’s apple. “Okay, how about this. Just no camp that’s coed. Cool?”
I cocked my head.
“Winnie, I’m kidding.”
Hmm. I didn’t think he was.
In my arms, baby Maggie truly reeked. I shifted her into the crook of my arm and headed out of the room.
“I might be a few
Baby Maggie squirmed and reached for Lars. I looped my arms over hers and straitjacketed them to her pudgy body.
“Winnie, I don’t want to go to Germany,” Lars said. “This isn’t something I’m choosing to do.”
“But you’re not choosing not to,” I said.
“We don’t leave until June fifteenth. We’ll have two full weeks of summer, two full weeks to spend with each other after school lets out.”
“Two whole weeks! Wh-hoo!”
He massaged his temples. I was making him feel bad, and that made me feel bad. Only it also made me feel better, in a bitter pill sort of way.
“Come back and sit by me,” he said. “I miss you.”
“You can’t ’miss’ me,” I said. “I’m on the other end of the sofa, not in a whole different country.”
He reached for me. I resisted at first, then relented, because I missed him, too, despite his upcoming trip to stupid Germany.
He pulled on my arm, and I let my body slump like a felled tree until my cheekbone met Lars’s lap. I shuffled baby Maggie so that she lay sideways, too, spooned against me with her head tucked beneath my chin. I was careful of her soft spot.
Lars finger-combed my hair. It felt like heaven, not that I was about to tell him.
I am the mommy and you are the daddy and this is our baby, I thought despondently. The words hovered at the edge of consciousness.
Then Maggie pooped. It was a long, spluttering, ptttpttt-pttt of a poop.
Lars’s hand stilled. “I think ... um ...”
I pushed myself up with a groan. “Yeah.” I held Maggie a few inches away from my body, because Maggie’s diapers sometimes leaked.
“Come on, Stinky,” I said to her. “Let’s get you changed.”
“Hey now,” Lars said, pretending to be offended. “Who are you calling Stinky?”
I looked at him—the first full-on look since Germany invaded—and said, “Ha ha.”
He was visibly relieved at our eye contact. “I’ll e-mail you. Every day.”
“Great,” I said flatly.
And now he was less relieved. I could tell by the way his Adam’s apple jerked up and down. But instead of feeling bad for worrying him, or sad that this was happening, I felt the urge to pull away from him.
“We’re good, right?” he said, and if I were in the right mood, I would be touched by his concern. He didn’t want to go with his family to Germany. I believed him. He would miss me. I believed that, too. But while I could see all that sweet-Lars angst, it didn’t exactly ... make its way to my heart.
“Of course we’re good,” I said, as if the topic was rather boring. “Things don’t always go according to plan. That’s just the way it goes.” I gave a wry smile and lifted Maggie’s smelly bottom for emphasis. “Poop happens.”
He laughed too hard. I mean, I was funny, but not that funny.
“Maybe I’ll go to leadership camp with Dinah after all,” I threw out. “I mean, as long as you’re going to Germany.”
“Really?” Lars said, obviously startled. He smoothed his expression to hide it. “I mean, sure. Why not?”
Sure, why not? Excuse me, but who was he to give me permission?
“As long as it’s not fire-walking camp,” he said, laughing in a way that, to me, sounded forced.
I regarded him stonily. “I could learn to walk on fire.”
“Or teen nudist camp,” he said with more hardy-harhars.
“I don’t know. A full-body tan might be nice.”
His hardy-har turned into a nervous chuckle, which turned into another up-and-down jerk of his Adam’s apple. “Okay, how about this. Just no camp that’s coed. Cool?”
I cocked my head.
“Winnie, I’m kidding.”
Hmm. I didn’t think he was.
In my arms, baby Maggie truly reeked. I shifted her into the crook of my arm and headed out of the room.
“I might be a few
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