And They Lived Happily Ever After

I clicked publish, then closed the laptop.  I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to convince myself everything was okay and I just needed to hold out until next weekend.  Suddenly, the room's air turned acrid.  I looked up to see Pie standing there, wet hair stuck to her face.  Wet clothes, too.  And that smell!  What was that smell?

"What. Did. You. Do?"  Each word pronounced so deliberately as I clawed desperately to hold onto whatever scrap of sanity I had left.  I didn't really need to ask--it was clear what happened, and chasing her from the room confirmed it.  There, in the middle of the hallway, was a huge puddle and a (now empty) gallon of white vinegar, the kind I use for cleaning, so that when the three year old gets into my cleaning supplies, it only sucks for me.  I grabbed the container as I passed it, storming into the living room, all color drained from my face.

"Fifteen minutes!  I asked you to watch her for fifteen minutes.  You couldn't even do that." 

He started talking, although looking back I have no idea what he said.  I was concentrating on the increasing tightness in my chest.  I forced myself to breathe.  My vision blurred a bit and my face flushed red and hot.  And wet?  Why was my face wet?

"Bean, I'll take care of it.  Why are you crying?" 

I'm not a crier, so this new turn of things thoroughly freaked him out.  The dam exploded and I was unable to stop.  Weeks of frustration from too much togetherness tumbled out, with me helpless to stop it.  Tears.  Hot.  Breathe.  Think.  Focus.  STOP!  I couldn't even answer him, I just stood there and cried and gasped for breath.  He was absolutely horrified.  I have no clue how long this lasted, but once I was able to speak again, it felt like a really long time had passed.

"I can't... get..  fifteen minutes... away.."  I didn't care if it hurt his feelings, I only sobbed harder.  "You.. don't get it.  You hate being alone.  If I don't get to be alone soon... it's going to.. kill me."  I'd managed to pull myself together enough to speak coherently, even if I was still being overdramatic.  I couldn't stop crying, which irritated the hell out of me, but more importantly, it scared my husband.  It scared him into action!

"Okay," he said.  "Okay, you just sit there." 

As he ushered Pie out of the room, I could hear him whisper, "Mumma's okay, she's tired.  Like you get tired. Just... just be real quiet and we'll go do something."

I felt a bit guilty at this, but then didn't he sort of get what was coming for not taking me seriously?  Also, any guilt was overshadowed by the nagging annoyance of the tears that still would not stop.  Moments later, he returned with a cup of coffee.  It was old and stale from the microwave, and it burned my mouth, but it was the best cup of coffee I've had all year.  He got the child in the bath, then I could hear him mopping up the vinegar in the hallway.

He popped back in to check on me twice, both of us relieved that I had managed to compose myself, and asked for my phone once, but otherwise left me alone.  I could hear him in the bathroom--he called... someone, but I couldn't quite make it all out through Pie's excited splashing.  I did catch the words "going to have" and "nervous breakdown" and "or something" and was about to fly into some sort of rage where I kicked him mercilessly and blamed him for every evil in the world, when he reappeared. 

"Okay," he said.  "I'm taking Pie outside.  Your mom's going to get her before I leave for work.  I don't know how to pack for her, you need to do that, but we'll stay out of your hair."

I stared back at him dumbly, all of a sudden feeling like an overgrown toddler right after an unnecessary tantrum.  Except, I reminded myself, it obviously was necessary.  Been trying to tell him this was coming for weeks.  Whatever.  I still felt like an asshole. 

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I do lo--"

"No, I'm sorry," he cut me off.  "I guess I was pretty shitty over vacation and I haven't really given you a break.  Me and your mom can take care of Pie until Monday."

Monday!?  What?  I really didn't need that long.  Perhaps I really had made too much of everything.

"You guys think I'm nuts."  I was still pouting, no matter how much better I felt.

"No," he corrected.  "I know you're nuts.  I still love you, though."

Twenty minutes later, I finished packing her bag.  I looked out the front room window and saw them.  He was pushing her up and down the sidewalk in the oversized snow shovel and it was the most perfect thing I'd ever seen.  For half a second, I considered joining them, but that would have just been lunacy.  I ran for my phone to snap a picture, but by the time I got back they'd moved on to something else.  For all the happiness of finally having some time to myself, I really picked a bad moment to miss.