4 Good Morning
I didn't sleep well. I kept tossing and turning the whole night. At first, Arnold didn't notice. He just slept like a log as he always does in the winter months. But when I couldn't stop yawning at breakfast he could tell something was up.
"Want to talk about it?" he asked, biting into a piece of toast.
"No. I don't feel like playing psychologist and patient this morning thank you. I just want to drink my coffee and pretend this dinner doesn't exist." Arnold rolled his eyes, not wanting open up that can of worms.
"Still want me to get the Italian sausage? We could do something else. Maybe even go out. That's what my grandparents are doing."
"No, the sausage is fine," I said in monotone, "It's easy to cook and I still keep and eye on Phil while I do. Plus, we have all those peppers we need to use anyway. I can throw them in…" I sipped more of my coffee before realizing I had none left. I went up to get more, unplugging the ancient percolator as I did.
"Alright then. Sounds like a plan. I should be home around six, maybe earlier if I can." Arnold turned to go, taking his time to leave.
"Yea, see you then…" I breathed, sipping my cup of Joe.
"Are you sure you'll be ok Helga?" he said. His eyes looked pleading, like he was asking some life or death question. I sighed and turned to face him with my back leaning on the table.
"I said I'd be ok. What more do you need?"
"It's just that…you've been good all week and I kinda wanted to keep it that way."
"I'm not one of your patients ok, Freud! I think I can be in my own house. Besides, what the hell would I do with your grandparents and Phil around? Give me some credit will you?"
"Fine! Sorry I asked." He rushed out door and slammed it, making a load clamber as it shut. I could hear little Phil starting to cry from upstairs. Sighing deeply, I put my cup on the table and went to tend to him.
"What's Shortman's all huffed about," Big Phil asked when I entered. I took my son from Phil's arms, feeling around his diaper to see if he needed changing. Sensing nothing, I realized he must be hungry, something he always seems to be. I fished around the extra diaper bag we keep in Arnold's grandparent's room for my boob cover and, once found; I begin to open up shop for little Phil. He feeds steadily fast like it's been a while, though I know it hasn't.
"He just wants this dinner thing to happen smoothly. He seems to forget this is the Pataki family, and not a Norman Rockwell painting." Phil laughed at that.
"Yea, your folks can be a little something," he said.
"You're telling me," I added as I took the seat next to Phil. I noticed that Gertia was not around but thought it better not to ask where. She usually has some wacky plan during the day and I was not about to get swooped up in it. I rocked a little as my son fed, enjoying this moment we had together.
"Aww, I never get tired of that image."
"What?" I said, looking at my Arnold's grandfather through my exhausted eyes. "You like the image of me being sucked on like fat some cow. Nice" I rested my body on the chair's back and resisted the urge to fall asleep. It took all I had not to close my eyes and drift off.
"It's just nice to watch is all." He smiled a little as he leaned closer to his great-grandson. I didn't move away. After a few moments little Phil finished eating and unhooked himself. I cleaned off his face with my boob cloth and closed up shop. I could sense by his slow blinking eyes that my son was getting ready for another one of his naps. I lifted him up gingerly and carried him out.
"Thanks for watching him," I whispered. Phil winked his left eye in thank you, giving me the ok sign with his hand. I tried my best to send a smile his way, but felt to tired. I just wanted to nap. I just wanted to lie down and forget what this day had to be. I was not ready for this, and I got the feeling as I walked my son to his crib that I would never be ready. The thought of it was still too much.