I pressed the button to start the coffee brewing and grabbed milk and eggs from the fridge. Placing them on the counter, I paused. What did I do yesterday? Work, picked up the girls, came home and made spaghetti and meatballs. The girls didn’t feel like taking a bath, so we all curled up and watched Brave. Popcorn and peanut M&Ms for me, goldfish crackers for Camille, my breast for Avery. The coffee pot began to hiss and spit. The gurgles echoing off the spacious kitchen was usually a welcome signal that my caffeine was on its way but the muscles in my neck felt taut like a stretched rubber band. I raised my hand up and began massaging my taut muscles. If you asked a certain patient out, you wouldn’t be afraid of an open window. No, I would be afraid of lots of other things being opened. Mouths. Legs. Hearts.
Chill out. It’s an open window. Now you’re thinking that someone other than Tim broke in, stayed here all night, and then snuck out through the window instead of the front door? You’re safe. There’s no way Tim knows we’re here or would bother with something so tame. And who else has a reason to come in here? That settles it. You forgot to close it.
From under the butcher block, I grabbed a mixing bowl. After cracking three eggs into the bowl, I added a splash of milk. Where’s the whisk? When did I use it last? Probably yesterday. On a hunch, I checked the dishwasher. Yes! Except, there was still yesterday’s breakfast stuck in between the wires. Ugh. After giving it a quick scrub, I proceeded to whip up eggs for Camille and I. Avery was definitely going to be hungry. My tits were starting to ache.
Adding quartered grapes, off-brand cereal o’s and some mashed peas to the lineup, I plated our feasts. Since the girls were still sleeping, I used the extra time to scarf down my portion of the eggs, turn on the dishwasher, wipe the counter tops, and throw a load of laundry into the dryer and hit the timed cycle. The dirty laundry couldn’t wait. This climate was too prone to mildew.
My breasts felt heavy and swollen. I have plenty of milk, so I just have to get some from the freezer before we head out. When Avery woke up at three in the morning for her usual feeding, I was able to pump out an extra bag. Despite my efforts, it never seemed like I could get ahead enough to get some sleep. I was always one or two days away from my reserves being tapped out. How am I going to keep up this pace for another year? The girls were already spending too much time in daycare. There was nothing like single motherhood to make you miss a terrible husband. Almost. Of course, even with all the work I needed to shoulder, life was still more peaceful alone. Damn him.
The silence of the early morning was deafening. When they still weren’t up after I finished cleaning up, I tested my luck with the coffee. Right after adding some pumpkin spice creamer to my cup, I swirled it with my spoon. I put the spoon down on the table, droplets spilling onto the chipped countertop. No sooner than my lips touched the mug, did Avery start to scream. It’s just as well. My tits feel like they’re going to pop. I still had to pump, feed the girls, and change their clothes before we could leave. Well, today started off great. If I could only keep the momentum going and not flirt with random people at the hospital. It is highly unethical for hospital staff to date their patients. Although lots of doctors do it. Casually even. But I guess, he wasn’t my patient. His brother was. That was a technicality, but an important one. Would it matter? You’re going to get in trouble.
I walked back in the bedroom and picked up Avery. Her chubby face was red and wet with tears. Burying my face into her neck’s fat rolls, I inhaled deeply. Powder and fresh deliciousness. How could I have made something so amazing? Her smell never gets old.
“Aww, I know baby. I’m here.” I pulled down my tank top and held her mouth to my breast. As soon as she latched on, I sat down next to Camille. She was rolling around in bed. My heart ached. I hated waking her up before she was ready. Apparently, she was completely oblivious to me infringing on her sleeping time. Her ability to get lost in her own world was impressive.
“Look Mommy I'm a starfish.” Camille’s little arms and legs pumped furiously, more snow angel than starfish.
“It’s breakfast time my little starfish.” Lord, please let this little starfish get ready so I can get to work on time. Mommy wanted to get to the hospital so she could pretend to be human on no more than two hours of consecutive sleep. When I was drifting off last night, I contemplated getting up early so that I could shower and put on some makeup. So much for that. It’s probably better. Flaunting my stuff to impress patients was bound to get me in more trouble than I need in my life right now. Wes and Frank were going to get me au natural. If I had to choose only one though, Wes was definitely ahead of the game. Considering Frank spent most of the time asleep, I couldn’t really be too quick to judge though.
Wes was cute. Really cute, in a very strange way. He was also very shy. It was odd for a man as attractive as him to be shy. And also, someone as attractive as him to be attracted to me or wear those odd clothes. It was almost as if he was from another time period. Instead of a t-shirt and jeans, or sweatpants, or any of the dozens of outfits that paraded through the hospital halls, the man was wearing suspenders, a button up shirt, and a bowtie. Who did he think he was, Jay Gatsby? I’m surprised he didn’t ask me where the shoeshine stand was. What a geek. And his hair. His awful hair. It looked like it was coated in tar. The slick back was in shocking contrast to his face. It’s like he packed a wedding cake in a plastic grocery bag. My eyes rolled just thinking about it. Never in my life have I been attracted to such a weirdo. Maybe I am turning over a new leaf. It’s not like my romances with bad boys have paid off much.
I peeked at Camille. She was squishing her grapes between her fingers before popping them delicately into her cherry red mouth. She’s eating. It’s fine. That’s a battle for another day. She shot a toothless grin in my direction. My heart lifted. It was going to be okay. My past wasn’t squeaky, but whose was? I only need to be the best mom I can. I reached out and touched her cheek. Kids don’t care if their highchair is second hand or their home is rented instead of owned. Love is all they need. And all you need.
Was finding love a possibility with two small children? You’re luminous. How embarrassing. Cringe-worthy. But it stirred something inside of me. Tim only called me sexy or hot. And that was usually while he was trying to get into my pants. Wes isn’t going to be giving any inspirational Ted Talks with cheesy lines like that. Or get into my pants. Well, at least not yet. But it was refreshing. How many guys who knew exactly what to say were interested in anything other than their own agendas? Most guys don’t listen. They wait for me to finish speaking so they can tell me how great they are. I felt like I could talk to Wes for hours. Frank listened, but he mostly stared at me and gave me a dopey smile before passing out. He still wasn’t past the pass out phase from the drugs he was taking for pain. And I’m never alone with Jared, but I’m alone with Wes a lot.
Frank passes out and Jared gets bored, and then we have our private time. There is no pressure because I’m at work and his unconscious brother essentially ensures that we need to keep it light. It’s as if we’re both simply dancing with each other, our bodies pressed closely on the dance floor, but music blaring ensures intimacy is out of the question. Close, but not. Intimate, but only to a certain point. We’re inches away from something; I can feel it. But those clothes. A few times a week, he shows up dressed like he’s attending a costume ball. Is he in a play or something? An aspiring actor? That would be cute if he was twenty-five, but he looks about thirty-five. I can’t bear to ask about it. The wrong answer would spoil the fantasy. It’s easier to keep them at arm’s length. Then reality can’t break my heart.