Professional Help
I’m sitting in my chair in the living room with Jane in my lap. We’re watching an Oddities marathon. Alyna comes in with Andy, who’s just had a bath, and initiates the following conversation in a whisper, which I can only assume has something to do with her not wanting the kids to hear even though they’re in the room with us.
She whispers, “We need to talk about something.”
I say in a normal volume, “Okay.”
She keeps whispering. “I think,” she says, taking a deep breath, “I think we should see a counselor,” as she opens a bucket of Legos for Andy and dumps them on the ground.
I say, “What?”
Andy says, “I need wheels.” She helps Andy sort through the mound of loose Legos for wheels and whispers, “I think we’re having some issues right now. And I think a counselor might help.”
I say, “Why are you whispering?”
She whispers, “Because the kids don’t need to be involved in this.”
Andy says, “Involved in what, Mommy?”
She says, “Nothing, baby. Here’s your wheels,” and hands him a few Lego wheels. Then she looks at me and whispers again, “So . . .”
I say, “So . . .”
She whispers, “Will you go?”
I say, “What issues are you talking about?”
She whispers, “You know.”
I say, “No, I really don’t.”
She whispers, “Well, like me catching you doing you-know-what the other day.”
I say, “I’m a guy. That’s not an issue.”
She whispers, “Yes it is. You shouldn’t need to do that.”
I feel like she’s blaming me for jerking off even though she refuses to fuck me and I lose my shit. I say, “You’re right. I have a wife. I shouldn’t need to do that.” This is the wrong thing to say.
She says, “Oh. So just because I’m your wife, I should be your personal sex slave?”
I say, “No, but maybe more than twice a month would be nice.”
She says, “Well, it’s hard with the kids. The whole world doesn’t revolve around your crotch.”
Andy says, “Mommy, do I have a crotch?”
Alyna says, “Not now, baby, play with your wheels.” He does as instructed. I hope my son doesn’t have to have a conversation like this one day with his wife in front of his kids—my grandkids.
I say, “Look, if you’re not in the mood as often as I am, then you have to cut me some slack. I mean, it’s my only fucking outlet.”
She gasps in shock. She says, “Watch your mouth around them.”
I say, “Sorry. But I didn’t do anything wrong.”
She says, “If you can’t see anything wrong with what you did, then I’m scheduling an appointment for us to see someone soon.”
I say, “Fine. Whatever.”
She picks Andy up and takes him off to his room as he says, “Wait, my Legos!” She comes back and scoops up the Legos into the bucket and takes it with them into his room, where they stay for the rest of the night. As Jane watches TV with me, I wonder what Holly is doing, and I wish I were back on her bed in her dorm room, high and happy.