“Hey, you okay?” he asked her.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” She seemed annoyed that he’d asked, and he wondered what he might have done wrong. Where he could have mis-stepped. Or if it had to do with him at all.
“Do you need a glass of wine or something?” he asked.
“No, no. I’ll just fall asleep. I’m so tired.” She turned away from him, leaning into Daisy who’d asked her something. Maxwell draped his arm across the back of her chair, eager to let her know he was still here, even if she was feeling a certain kind of way. Wasn’t that what boyfriends did?
It wasn’t long before the food arrived, everyone facing down big plates of aesthetically arranged food and exciting drizzles of unknown sauces splashed like art across the plates. Before Jill dug into her food, she started texting furiously. Maxwell took a bite of his salmon and then nudged her.
“Who you texting?”
She sniffed. “Kelsey.”
He scooped some vegetables into his mouth and chewed. “The kids are fine, Jill. Kelsey’s watched them plenty of times.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t check in,” she said in a low voice that immediately set Maxwell on edge. Something in her tone was a warning, practically a gunshot. “Parenthood is 24/7.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. His appetite waned slightly with her words. “You don’t think I know that?”
She sent him a sharp look.
“It’s not like I just rolled up to the family here,” he said before shoving another forkful of salmon into his mouth. Tessa and Mark both glanced at him from across the table. Were they being obvious? Maybe the simmering tension extended beyond their small bubble.
They ate quietly, Maxwell still mulling over her tone and words, trying to pinpoint the issue. Why she sometimes treated him like he knew nothing, did nothing.
He waited until he’d finished his plate to try speaking to her again. He took a sip of water to clear his palate and then asked, “So did she write back?”
“Who?” Jill asked between bites of steak.
“Kelsey.”
“Oh, now you’re curious?”
Maxwell gritted his teeth. This wasn’t fun or playful. This was just downright mean. And the weirdness was leaking out around them, unable to be contained.
“Why wouldn’t I be curious? You said you were talking to the nanny; yes, I’d like to know.”
Jill didn’t answer right away as she took the last bite on her plate. Maxwell felt a big fight brewing, and he realized that they might not be able to last the rest of the dinner like this. They had some issues that needed to be addressed. Now.
“How about we just go check on them ourselves?” Maxwell suggested suddenly. “Does that sound better?”
Jill sent him an unreadable look but didn’t argue. Maxwell turned to James at his side.
“Hey, man. I think we’re gonna head out. We’re having some nanny issues.” If only the issues were with the nanny herself and not the custodial guardians. Maxwell rummaged for his wallet in his back pocket. “I’ll leave some cash with you for our meals. Whatever is extra, leave as a tip.”
James nodded, searching his face. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. We’re good. It’s all good.” Except it was far from good, and he couldn’t keep the painful wrench in his gut from disrupting the great meal he’d just eaten. He felt sick now—which meant this needed to be solved. And fast.
Jill downed the rest of her wine, and when he jerked his head toward the door, she didn’t object. They gathered their things, giving bright goodbyes to the team. When others complained about their early departure, Maxwell just repeated the same thing: “Got some nanny problems—gotta run, guys.”
Maxwell’s heart raced as he headed for the front door. Jill lagged behind him, leaving him holding the front door open for her extra long, waiting for her to catch up. When they were out in the cool, humid night air, Maxwell was at a loss. Where to begin?
They walked in silence to his SUV, her heels clicking against the asphalt parking lot. Once they were both inside the vehicle, the interior lights receding, he said, “So what’s your problem? This was supposed to be a nice night out.”
“Yeah, I wanted it to be too,” she said, staring out the windshield. “But somebody’s gotta keep an eye on the kids.”
He sighed. “Why do you act like I don’t care about them?”
“I never said or implied that. That’s all you.”
“Well, you’re certainly acting like it’s irresponsible to leave them alone with a trusted, verified, and vetted babysitter for all of three hours. Forgive me for not wanting to check in every half hour.”
She pursed her lips, fiddling with her pearl earring again. “Well, maybe you should check in more. You’re barely around. The kids notice this stuff, even though they’re little. Hell, it’s almost Christmas. This is an exciting time for kids. For someone so hung up on schedules and consistency, you’ve really been slacking.”
His mouth parted as the blunt force of her words hit him like a slap across the face. “Really? So I guess working eighty hours a week isn’t a valid use of my time.” He laughed bitterly, starting the car. They’d really dived headfirst into this argument, and he hadn’t even left the parking lot. “You know the playoffs are around the corner. And then, if all goes well, the Super Bowl. That’s the focus here.”
“Is that the only thing you’re focusing on?”
He blinked rapidly, trying to understand the angle of her question. “What does that mean?”
“I dunno. You used to be more present. More involved. More caring. Seems like you’ve got something else occupying your time on the sidelines.”
“What are you trying to say?”
Jill was eerily silent for a few moments, staring out the passenger window as he merged into the downtown traffic, headed for home. There was something huge throbbing between them now, something that begged for clarity. But Jill finally sighed, shaking her head.
“I’m just tired, Maxwell. I’m not just tired, actually—I’m exhausted. We’ve both had long days. Long weeks. Hell, this entire process has just been long. Maybe we should talk about this when we’re rested.”
He scoffed. “Okay, when will that be? Never?”
She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Maybe rested wasn’t the best word. Let’s just say—better frame of mind.”
A tense truce settled bulky and heavy in the air between them like a storm cloud, but one that had temporarily stopped spewing lightning. Maxwell wanted to finish this conversation now, but he didn’t quite have the words for what he wanted to say. Especially not when she was so eager to postpone it.
Back at the house, they entered quietly, finding Kelsey curled up on the couch in the living room, reading a magazine. She gave them a bright rundown of the evening’s events, and then quickly excused herself. The kids were in bed on time. Everyone was happy, safe, fed. So why had they rushed home from their first night out?
They climbed the stairs then, in silent agreement to check on the kids. The triplets were sound asleep in their cribs. Out in the hallway, old habits clawed at Maxwell. He wanted her to stay, even though so many question marks lingered between them. He wanted to get back to that sweet, sultry spot that they knew how to navigate so well.