Seems Like Its Been Forever
A/N: So I was listening to the radio at work and I kept hearing Fort Minor's song, "Where'd You Go." The first thing I thought was this OneShot. I know there is a lot of potential for more story here, and I haven't decided if I'm going to expand it, but for now it's a Oner. I've got some other story ideas swirling around in my head, so we'll see what happens. For now, I hope you enjoy this one!
"Jordan David! Leave the cat alone!"
"Brandon Michael! No! You're going to break your neck!"
"Jordan, I am not playing with you! Let go of Somoa's tail!"
"Oh, stop crying! Brandon, why are you crying, baby?"
Erin Reed-Batista stooped to catch her youngest son, twenty-one-month-old Brandon, as he rushed into her arms, wailing and holding his head. Kissing his dark hair, she fell back on the couch, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of the soft leather moulding to her skin. If she remembered correctly, it was the first time she had sat down since the kids woke up that morning.
"Mommy, I'm pretty!"
Casting a glance toward the stairs, Erin smiled at her three-year-old daughter, Abby. The small girl's face was heavily decorated in her mother's make up, and Erin couldn't help nodding as the baby in her arms began to calm down. "Yes, you are," she agreed, standing. "Let's get some lunch okay?"
But before they could start for the kitchen, a horrendous, screeching hiss echoed through the spacious home. Erin instinctively hugged Brandon to her chest as the family cat, a black tabby named Somoa, tore through the living room. Darting under the maple end table beside the couch, his tail snagged the nearby ficus and sent the potted plant crashing to the living room floor.
Paying no attention to the chaos, five-year-old Jordan romped into the living room and knelt beside the table, grinding the dirt into his jeans and the burbury carpet beneath him. As he reached for his "toy," Somoa arched his back and began to hiss angrily. Jordan pulled back in shock as Abby giggled and pointed.
Though she knew she should probably clean the dirt up soon, it could wait. "Come on, Jordie," she motioned for him to take her hand. "Let's get some lunch, baby boy."
When the kids were positioned around the kitchen counter, Erin found herself humming songs with them as she spread peanut butter and jelly on slices of white bread.
"Mommy, is Daddy coming home today?" Jordan asked, just as he had every day for the last two weeks.
Erin slid a sandwich toward him and shook her head, blinking back and unexpected tear. "No, Sweetie. He's working."
"Oh," Jordan whispered, his lower lip trembling just slightly before he bit into his sandwich.
"Daddy?" Brandon's cherubic face turned toward his mom, his dark eyes equally hopeful and expectant.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be Prince Charming. They were supposed to have the perfect house, filled with the perfect family. She was supposed to have the perfect life.
As she had envisioned it, Dave was around to enjoy the perfection with her, though. He was there to play baseball in the yard with Jordan. He went swimming in their heated pool with Abby. In her version, he read Clifford the Big Red Dog to Brandon every night before bed. And then he fell into bed with Erin, sleeping peacefully until morning, when his wonderful children woke him up, begging to watch the Wiggles.
While she knew that she loved him, this life was far from what she had dreamt of as a child.
Of course, they had all warned her. Her family and her friends had told her time and again that a professional wrestler was not the kind of man she wanted fathering her children. He would never be around, and keeping that kind of marriage together was nearly impossible, let alone raising a family in the midst of the madness.
Erin had been convinced, however, that their love could conquer all the obstacles. They were completely engrossed in each other, from the first day they had met at a night club in her hometown, and it would be enough to get them through.
"So-mo-a!" Jordan's high-pitched voice sounded as he dangled his sandwich over the edge of the chair as bait for the skittish feline.
"Jordan," Erin reprimanded, leaning on the counter. "Eat your sandwich and leave the damn cat alone for five minutes. You're going to make him crazy."
Jordan rolled his eyes. "He's already crazy, Mom," he laughed.
Nodding, Erin folded a dishtowel and placed it next to the sink. "Yeah, because you torment him!" she smiled as her son giggled and took another bite of his sandwich.
As her children continued devouring their lunches, she ran a hand through her long braids and let her mind wander.
How had she gotten here? When had he become too busy to stop by the house even once a week? When had he decided that he could drop in when it pleased him, do what he wanted, and then prance right out of their lives again? Was it his decision to make all of those appearances and signings? Was it just the industry? Should she blame herself for driving him away? Had she done something to make him despise coming home? Was it wrong that she was beginning to resent his work?
"Mom!" Erin's head snapped up as Jordan shouted at her. "Somoa at my sandwich!"
As his pink lips puffed up, his pitiful face brought a small smile to his mother's face. Those lips were an exact miniature replica of his father. His smile and his pout left no room for doubt as to who had fathered the boy.
"You fed him!" Abby accused her brother, smacking his arm. While her hershey skin and flaring temperment tied Abby squarely to her mother, the mischievious twinkle in her eyes was Dave through and through.
"Moa!" Brandon shrieked and clapped his pudgy hands joyfully. "Moa like yelly!" He laughed again, withdrawing a reluctant chuckle from his mother.
Brandon was the one who most reminded her of her husband. His features and his build made him a spitting image of his father. If any of the kids ran away to join the WWE circus, it would be Brandon.
She withdrew three fruit-juice popsicles from the freezer and handed them to her eager audience. "Alright, Chuckle Monkeys," she winked as they each clutched their dessert with both hands and happily suckled the fruity sweetness. "After this, it's nap time."
None of the children complained as Erin cleaned their lunch dishes and continued humming to herself. Most days, she didn't mind being a stay-at-home Mom. She loved her children more than she ever dreamed she possibly could. But on the days when they were all three hyperactive, running around like chickens with their heads cut off, forcing her to run like an Olympic sprinter to keep up, she wished that she had the help of a man who would return home after work every night.
"Alright, Jordan," Erin instructed, lifting Brandon from his high chair as she helped Abby off her stool. "Go get the Spongebob dvd out of your room and bring it to the play room, okay?"
He nodded his dark hair and darted off, scaring the wits out of a nearly-slumbering Somoa in the process.
The cell phone on her hip rang as Erin was setting Brandon into his playpen. She watched Abby wiggle into her Dora the Explorer sleeping bag while she answered the phone. "Hello," she answered with a slight laugh.
"What's funny?" Dave's voice filtered through the phone line, a smile evident in his tone.
All of the butterflies in her stomach began flapping in unison at the sound of his deep baritone. There were days when she lived for this phone call, and Erin knew that today had been one of them.
"Um, I was just watching Abby get situated for her nap. She was doing this little scooty thing into her sleeping bag," she began to explain, and then realized that it wouldn't be nearly as funny if he couldn't see it. "Nevermind," she sighed, one hand on her curvaceous hip before Brandon clutched her hand and began to mutter something.
"Oh," was Dave's response. Some days, he would talk for hours about what was going on in his life. And some days, he would just sit there, listening to his family existing at home in Tampa without him.
Forgetting that she was on the phone, Erin turned her head. "Brandon, stop it," she scolded as her son began to chew on her hand. "Ow," she grimaced, tearing her hand away.
It was bad enough that he had nearly bitten her nipple off when he started teething before she had finished breast-feeding. Now he seemed to find it funny every time he nipped her finger or her arm with his little teeth, causing his mother to jump involuntarily. "Lay down," she instructed, turning away as Jordan ran into the room.
"So, how's it goin'?" Dave asked, reminding her that he was still there.
Erin watched as Jordan ran into the room and nearly collided with the television cabinet. "Good," she answered Dave hastily and moved toward her son. "You have got to be careful, Son. You're going to hurt yourself some day," she chided, pointing back toward his Power Rangers sleeping bag.
"Good," Dave repeated her hasty answer under his breath. While Erin knew that he hated the long, awkward silences that sometimes fell over their conversations, she couldn't bring herself to worry about it. Sometimes she hated being the only one there to take care of everything while he galivanted around living his dream.
"Is that Dad?" Jordan asked as he situated himself on the floor. Erin put the dvd into the player and turned on the television, nodding. "Let me talk to him!"
But Erin shook her head. She wanted Dave to have a relationship with his children. More than anything. But at the moment, she just wanted the three hellions to take a nap. He would only get them riled up, whether he intended to or not, and she would be stuck with the impossible task of getting them calmed back down.
"When are you coming home?" she asked suddenly, the words tripping out of her mouth as if completely out of her own control.
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, as if he was trying to think of the best way to deliver bad news. Or he genuinely didn't know. He had people to take care of his schedule, a personal assistant and an agent who told him where to be and when. There were moments when Erin envied that about him.
"Sunday," he answered finally.
It was Tuesday - by the time he returned home at the end of the week, it would be three weeks since he had been there with him. "Can I call you back?" Erin asked. "I've gotta finish getting the kids down for their nap."
"Sure," he agreed, clicking his phone shut and disconnecting the call.
Making sure that her babies were all settled in for "Mommy's Afternoon Quiet Time," Erin turned on the monitor by the door and then moved into the hall and down to her own bedroom. Though she had a million things to do, she decided to make the call that traditionally only lasted about ten minutes anyway.
Every time he called, the questions started again. Did she tell him the truth? That she was starting to grow tired of this life they were "sharing"? Did she admit that she just couldn't do it by herself and that she needed him there before his scheduled arrival on Sunday? Could she finally confess that she spent half the day cleaning up after messy toddlers, and the other half wishing he would just quit the business all together and come home to them?
Even as she dialed, she knew she that it wasn't the day for such a conversation. And it wasn't a conversation to be had over the phone anyway. Climbing onto the bed, she sighed when he answered, his rich voice tickling her ears. "I miss you," she whispered as she settled against the sheets.
"I miss you, too, baby girl," he responded over the rustle of stiff hotel sheets. "I've been thinking about you all day."
Slipping into easy conversation, Erin reminded herself of all the reasons she truly loved her husband on the other end of the phone. This was an obstacle. A speed bump. They still belonged together. Doubts, worry, over-analysis, paranoia, and frustration couldn't change that. And though she knew the concerns would still be there tomorrow, Erin forced herself to stop thinking about it for one more day.
She had three children who were dying to see Daddy home again. She had a husband who repeatedly told her he couldn't wait to get back to her again. And she had an ache in her heart to be held by her lover again. Everything else would just have to wait.