Chapter 2 - The Two Times She Asked
I waited for Mia to say something else.
Something about being scared.
Something about hitting the floor.
Instead, she watched my face as though she was waiting to find out whether I was angry about the dishes.
“Mia, forget the kitchen.”
“Your mom wanted the pans washed before—”
“Look at me.”
She did.
“What’s happening in our house?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“The doctor said you haven’t been eating enough.”
“I eat.”
“When?”
She pulled at the blanket.
I remembered the full plate in front of my mother.
“Does Mom help with Nico?”
“At first.”
“What does that mean?”
“She held him while I showered. She washed bottles a few times.”
“And now?”
Mia stared at the clear tubing taped to her hand.
“She says he settles better with me.”
“What about the cooking?”
No answer.
“The laundry?”
Her mouth tightened.
“Mia.”
“I do it.”
“All of it?”
She nodded.
For three weeks, my mother had watched television, taken naps, and called relatives while my wife fed our son, washed our clothes, cleaned our home, and prepared meals she barely got to eat.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
The question came out before I heard how cruel it sounded.
Mia looked at me.
“I did.”
There was no anger in her voice.
That made it worse.
“One night, I said it was hard having your mom there.”
I remembered.
I had been taking off my shoes.
Be patient. She’s adjusting, too.
“Then I asked if Nico and I could have the house to ourselves for a while.”
I remembered that, too.
It’s better for you to have someone around while I’m working.
Two chances.
She had handed me two chances to protect her, and I had handed them right back.
“I thought you understood what I meant,” she whispered.
“I should have.”
“You kept saying how lucky I was.”
I lowered my head.
My phone vibrated. Mom again.
I turned it facedown.
Mia watched me do it.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“She took my phone two days ago.”
I looked up.
“She said I spent too much time on it. That it kept me from doing my work.”
“Your work?”
“The house.”
My jaw tightened.
“Where is it?”
“In our bedroom drawer.”
I waited until Mia was sleeping before leaving. Ben agreed to stay with Nico a little longer.
At home, Mom rose from the sofa.
“We need to talk.”
I went upstairs.
Inside the drawer, beneath a folded towel, lay Mia’s phone.
I unlocked it and opened the recording app.
One folder sat at the top.
May you like
FOR RAFAEL, IF I CAN’T EXPLAIN ANYMORE.
There were twenty-three recordings inside.
