Protecting Her Page 12

“I tried to, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  “You made a few comments, but that’s it. You were too nice about it. These past few months, you’ve let me get away with too much. You need to be tougher with me. I can handle it. I need you to be direct and tell me when things are getting out of control.” I place my hand along the side of her face. “And please, don’t ever let it get to the point where you consider leaving me.”

  “Pearce, when I said that I didn’t mean I want a divorce. I love you and I don’t want to break up our family. I was just so frustrated with you and I didn’t know what to do or say to get your attention.”

  “Well, that definitely got my attention. And you were right. I have not been a good father to him these past few months. And I have not been a good husband to you. I am very sorry for that. You deserve much better.” I lean in and press my lips to her forehead. “I promise you, I will be the man you deserve. I love you more than anything, Rachel. And although my behavior this past year may have made you doubt that, I am telling you right now, that you and Garret are more important to me than anything else in this world. I will prove that to you going forward.”

  She nods. “Okay.”

  I smile at her. “You’re being too easy on me again. You should be telling me how much I screwed up, and making me beg for your forgiveness.”

  “I don’t need to. I think you finally realize that things need to change.”

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask.

  “I was going to take Garret to the pumpkin patch and let him pick out a pumpkin. That was always one of my favorite things to do as a kid in the fall.”

  “Can I go with you?”

  “But tomorrow’s Thursday. What about work?”

  “I’m taking the day off, unless you don’t want me around. It sounds like you have a busy day.”

  She smiles. “I want you around. Would you go to the pumpkin patch with us?”

  “I would love to. I’ve never been to one before. And you’ll need me there to carry the pumpkins. I’m sure they’re quite heavy.”

  She hugs me. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. This is what I should be doing. Spending time with my family. I should’ve been doing it all along.” I hold her face with both my hands. “I love you,” I whisper over her lips, and then I kiss her, softly and gently.

  For months, our kisses have have been rushed, quick pecks on my way out the door. But now I’m going slow, savoring the feel of her soft lips, her warm breath. Her body relaxes as I take the kiss deeper. I recline her back on the couch and lay over her, letting our bodies mold into each other. We haven’t been this close, this intimate, for so long that I can’t even remember how long it’s been. I don’t know how I let things get to this point, but I can’t let it happen again.

  I break from the kiss and my lips trail down the side of her neck. She breathes out, and when I cup my hand around her breast, she softly moans. I’ve missed that sound. I’ve missed the feel of her beneath me. I’ve missed her scent and the feel of her skin.

  She pushes her hips into me and I press back into her, letting her feel me and what she does to me. I whisper in her ear, “I need you.”

  “I need you too,” she whispers back, her breathing ragged.

  I lift her up off the couch. She goes up the stairs and I follow her to the bedroom. We quickly undress each other, then I shove the covers back and we get into bed. I look at her lying there and, again, I wonder how I let my absence go on for so long. She’s my wife and she’s beautiful and I love her with everything I am, so why have I not been here with her? In our home? In our bed? Together like this?

  I kiss her stomach, her breasts, her neck, as my hands wander over her body, feeling her soft smooth skin. When my hand slides up her inner thigh, her breath catches, and her fingers rake through my hair.

  “Pearce,” she whispers, her hips grinding into my hand. I want to keep pleasuring her, not worry about myself, but I can tell she wants more.

  I lie over her and put myself inside her. We both exhale at the feel of being united like this again. My hips move in a slow rhythm as I kiss her. She matches my movements, gradually guiding me to go faster. I do, but I’m finding it hard to hold back. She feels too good and it’s been too long. She’s moaning and pushing into me, and I can’t stop it. I release, but when I do, I feel her coming as well.

  She holds onto me, trembling beneath me. As her body relaxes, she rests her head back on the pillow. “I really needed that.”

  I brush her hair off her face and kiss her. “We’re going to be doing that a lot more from now on.”

  She smiles. “I’d like that.”

  I look into her eyes. “What can I do for you, Rachel?”

  “What do you mean?” She threads her hand through my hair.

  “Can I run you a bath, or get you something to drink, or give you a massage? Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

  “I just want this. Us. Together. I feel like you’ve been gone for months and I’ve missed having you in my life. I want my husband back. I want you back, Pearce. For good. That’s all I want.”

  I kiss her. “I’m back, sweetheart. For good.”

  I roll onto my back and she nestles against me. I pull the covers over us and she falls asleep in my arms.

  The next day, the three of us have breakfast together, then go to the pumpkin patch. One of the neighbors told Rachel where to go, which is good because I wouldn’t begin to know where to find one.

  It’s a warm day for October, bright and sunny and perfect for picking pumpkins.

  “Dada.” Garret points to a mini pumpkin. Rachel and I are standing behind him. We’re at a large farm and there are several acres of pumpkins all around us.

  Rachel crouches down next to him. “Do you want that one?”

  He tries to pick it up but it’s too heavy and he ends up falling down and scraping his hands on the prickly vines. He starts crying.

  “Garret!” Rachel races to pick him up. She holds him against her and he cries even harder. “We better go home.” She sounds panicked.

  “Rachel, he’s fine.” I pick up his hand and look at it. “There’s no blood. It’s just a scrape.”

  “Yes, but it could get infected. I need to get him home.” She’s overreacting. Garret is fine. But her reaction is scaring him and making him cry even more.

  “Let me take him,” I say to her.

  She reluctantly gives him to me.

  I hold him in one arm and face him toward the pumpkin patch. “Look at all those pumpkins, Garret.” He stops crying and gazes out at the field. “Do you want to go look at the really big ones?”

  He looks at me and smiles. I wipe the tears off his face. “Let’s go see the big pumpkins.” I start walking off.

  I hear Rachel behind me, talking quietly. “Pearce, we need to get him home.”

  “He’s fine,” I say quietly back. We reach a patch of giant pumpkins and I set him down next to one. “That’s as big as you are, Garret.”

  He laughs and hits the pumpkin with his palms.

  “Let’s get that one.” I remove it from the vine, hoist it up in one hand and pick Garret up with the other.

  Rachel is watching me, but keeps looking at Garret with worry and concern. I’ve been at work so much that I haven’t seen her with him other than a few minutes a day. I didn’t realize she was so overprotective of him.

  “Why don’t we get a few of these smaller pumpkins that are more Garret’s size?” I say to Rachel as we come to that part of the field again.

  “Um, okay.” She bends down and points to one. “Do you want this one, Garret?”

  He claps his hands together.

  I laugh. “I guess he likes it. Get that one and a few more that size.”

  As we walk to the entrance to pay, Garret grips my shirt and lays his head on my shoulder. It warms my chest and makes me smile. I love him so much. I can’t believe I’ve missed so much of his first year. So many moments, just like this one
, I’ve missed because I spent all my time at work.

  My son needs me and I haven’t been here for him. Ever since I got home last night, he’s followed me around, and when I hold him, he clings to me, like he thinks I’ll leave and never come back. It hurts me to see him act that way, knowing I’m the cause of it.

  We get home and have lunch and then I put Garret down for a nap. I go back down to the kitchen where Rachel is cleaning up.

  “Hey.” I go up to her, taking the dish towel from her and setting it aside. “What was going on today?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why did you get so upset when Garret fell down?”

  “He was hurt. I was worried about him.”

  “Do you always react that way when he falls down?”

  “If he’s hurt, then yes.” She sounds angry, defensive.

  “Rachel, he’s just learning to walk. He’s going to fall down. You can’t react that way every time he does. It scares him.”

  She backs away. “Don’t tell me how to react. You’ve been with him one day. That’s it! I take care of him all day, every day. I think I know how to take care of him.”

  “I never said you didn’t. I’m just saying that you can’t react that way every time he falls down.”

  She folds her arms over her chest. “So I’m just supposed to let him fall and not do anything?”

  “If he’s not hurt, then yes. He’ll get back up. That’s how he learns. He falls and then gets back up.”

  “That may be how your parents treated you, but that’s not how I’m raising our son. If he falls, I’m picking him up and holding him.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  I walk into the family room. I don’t want to fight about this. We can talk about it later when she’s calmed down, because right now, she’s very angry.

  “What are you trying to say, Pearce?”

  I turn and see her standing behind me.

  “Just forget it. I don’t want to argue. It’s a nice day. Why don’t we go sit out on the patio?”

  “He was hurt,” she says, holding my arm. “He scraped his hand and it could’ve become infected.”

  She’s not letting this go. Maybe we should just have this conversation now. She acted this way with Garret when he was an infant. She took him to the doctor for every little thing. I thought she was just being extra cautious because it was her first time being a mother. I didn’t know she was still this way with him.

  “Garret wasn’t hurt,” I say. “He was fine. Children his age are always falling down and getting cuts and scrapes. And he’ll get even more as he gets older. I’m only saying that you can’t react that way every time this happens.”

  “You mean OVERreact.” Her voice cracks and I suddenly understand why she’s getting so upset. It’s not about me. It’s about her.

  “I didn’t say that, Rachel. But you did scare him when you reacted that way today. He was crying even harder when he saw how upset you were. When I re-directed his attention, he was fine.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “I’m not saying I’m an expert on how to raise a child. In fact, I’m the last person to ask for advice. I’m just describing what I observed today. And I’m only saying it because I don’t want our son to be afraid to run and jump and play outside. But he will be afraid to do those things if he thinks his mother is going to cry or panic if he gets the tiniest scrape.”

  “Oh God.” She walks over to the couch and sits down. She buries her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

  I go over and sit next to her, putting my arm around her. “Rachel, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m acting just like my mom used to,” she says, her breath shaky. “She never let me do anything. She was worried I’d get hurt. If I had a bruise or a small cut, she’d race me to the doctor. And I hated it. I felt guilty. Like I’d done something wrong. I was so afraid to get hurt because I knew it would worry my mom. I didn’t want to worry her or make her sad.” She sniffles. “And now I’m acting just like her. I’m doing the same thing to Garret.”

  I hug her into my side. “You worry about him because you love him.”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to smother him. I don’t want to keep him from being a little boy and doing the things little boys do, like run around and kick balls and climb trees.” She sits back and wipes her face. “He’s our only child, and I’m so worried about something happening to him. Because if it does, we can’t have another. It’s just like when my sister died. My parents only had one child left and that’s why mom acted so overprotective of me. And now I’m doing the exact same thing.”

  I keep quiet and leave her with her thoughts. What she said is exactly what I suspected was happening, but I didn’t want to say it. It’s better if she realizes this herself. It’s like me realizing that I need to stop working so much. Rachel made that comment the other night that triggered me to come to that realization, and now I’ve done the same for her. That wasn’t my intention when I brought up what happened today, but that’s where it led.

  “I need you to stop me, Pearce, just like you did today.” She turns and looks at me. “You were so good with him and I was a nervous wreck.”

  I hold her hand. “Why don’t we agree to help each other? I’ll keep you from overreacting with Garret and you keep me from working too much.”

  She nods, then hugs my chest. “I like having you home.”

  “I like being home.” I kiss her head and we remain there on the couch.

  I think it will take a while for her stop being so protective of Garret, just like it will take time for me to adjust to being away from the office. But at least this is a start.

  “Should we go sit outside?” I ask.

  She pulls back, her lips turning up. “Or we could do something else. Garret usually sleeps for a half hour.”

  I check the clock. “Plenty of time. Get upstairs.”

  She jumps up and races up the stairs. We meet in the bedroom and I make love to my wife for the second time today. We also did it when we woke up this morning. We’re making up for lost time, all those months when we should have been together and weren’t. I’m furious at myself for losing all that precious time, both with Rachel and with Garret. They’re my family, my life, and I cannot let work come between us ever again.

  The next day I return to work, prepared for my father to yell at me for taking yesterday off. As I’m walking down the hall, I hear him behind me.

  “Pearce! In my office. Now!”

  I sigh and turn around and follow him to his office.

  “Where the hell were you yesterday?” he asks as he sits behind his desk.

  I close the door and remain standing. “I took the day off. I told your secretary I wouldn’t be here.”

  “What was so important that you couldn’t be here?”

  “My family,” I say, being honest. I could’ve lied, but why? I should be allowed to take a day off to be with my family. “I needed to spend time with Rachel and Garret.”

  “That’s what weekends are for.”

  “I’m always here on the weekends. I’m here seven days a week.”

  “That’s called having a job.”

  “I have both a job and a family, and the past year I’ve devoted all my time to my job and neglected my family.”

  “How much damn time do you need with them?”

  “More than I’m currently spending with them. So starting today, I’m cutting back on my hours. Rachel has been raising our son alone and it’s time I stepped in and helped.”

  “Get a nanny, like everyone else.”

  “We don’t want our son being raised by someone else.”

  “He’s a baby. He doesn’t know if you’re there or not.”

  “He does know, and he needs his father.”

  He taps his pen on his desk as he looks at me. “I’m not allowing you to cut back on your hours. I’m your boss and I will not allow it.”

  “You’re my father, and this is your grandson we’re talking about. Yo
u should want me to spend time with him.”

  “He’s a damn child. He’ll never remember whether or not his father was around. I was never around when you were a child and you survived.”

  He doesn’t get it. I don’t know why I thought he would. He’s never been a father to me. He doesn’t know how to be one. Growing up, he was a dictator. A disciplinarian. But never a father.

  “We obviously disagree on this,” I say, “but despite your objections, I will be cutting back on my hours and will no longer be working weekends unless absolutely necessary.”

  He goes to say something, then stops.

  “You can’t fire me, Father. The organization forbids it. They expect me to take over as CEO someday.”

  “I am well aware of that.” He scowls at me as he continues to tap the pen on his desk.

  “I have to go. I have a meeting.” I turn to leave but hear him talking.

  “This is all HER doing, isn’t it?”

  I turn back to him. “If you’re referring to Rachel, then no. This was not her decision. This is my decision.”

  “You’re lying. I’ve seen you the past few months. You’ve actually liked working here. You were seeing results from your efforts. You could see how all those hours of work were paying off. But then that woman told you to stop working so much so you could stay home and change diapers while she sits around watching TV.”

  “That is not what happened. And Rachel does not sit around watching TV. She raises our son and takes care of the house. It’s a full time job.”

  “Then she doesn’t need you to do it. Let her do her job, and you do yours.”

  “I’m not arguing about this, Father. I am cutting back my hours whether you like it or not.”

  “That woman is your downfall, Pearce. You’re just too blind to see it.”

  I walk out of his office. Staying there would just lead to us fighting. He doesn’t accept my decision and he never will. He doesn’t understand the importance of family. I thought after nearly dying from cancer, he’d realize that family is what’s important in life, but he didn’t come to that realization. He’s back to his old self. He’ll never change.