Page 46 of Carver
Today, our first full day in Hart, was a good day. It was agreatday. A special one that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. When I glance over at Dom, I find him relaxed in the chair, at peace, with a small smile that I’m not even sure he’s aware of, and I know he feels the same way.
Chapter 13
Bronte
It’s too dark for Dom to see much of anything outside, but after putting Ellie to bed, singing softly over the edge of her crib until I was sure she was asleep, I come downstairs to find him standing off to the side of the large living room window.
He has a Latin book in one hand, and when he turns, I can see the tiny writing about conjugations under the title.
He has his finger pressed about a quarter of the way into the book, marking the spot, but it’s clear that he wasn’t reading it. He might have been thinking it out, puzzling out the conjugations in his head, but I don’t think so. Not after he’s been quiet and contemplative all day. He wasn’t trying to shut me out. He just gets that way on the outside when the inside of his head is so busy churning over endless thoughts.
“Are you thinking about the building?”
He leaves the window and walks to the coffee table, setting the library book down carefully, as though he’s afraid to damage it. It’s nearly pristine. I don’t imagine that a lot of people check out learning Latin books. “I’m going to need a studio soon.”
I fold my arms around myself and lean my shoulder casually up against the wall by the stairs. “That’s true, but you shouldn’t settle for a space that’s not perfect just because you’re borderline desperate for a work area.”
“I do like it. What do you think?”
“I think that with the right renovations, it could be a lovely space.”
He rakes his hand through his hair, and I can almost hear the silent argument that he’s been having with himself, laid out like a play. “I haven’t had that follow up appointment with Archer yet, but it’s coming. I’m feeling less and less pain. He’s going to clear me to go back to regular activities. I don’t need his permission, but I do feel like it’s time.” Another sharp rake of his hand, ruffling his hair.
I try not to focus on how delicious it looks, all mussed and messy. It’s not the right time to let my mind do a slow unravelling straight to how badly I’d like to touch him, kiss him, smooth all his hair back down before I wreck it again.
“If I don’t start sculpting soon, I’m going to get restless. The images of what those stones want to be, or even the stones themselves just lying in wait for me to find them and bring them here and transform them… it’s going to be overwhelming. I could do without having my brain ripped to shreds. The headaches seriously suck.”
I hate that for him. I hate any pain for him. He can literally see me standing here, going soft for him. He softens in response, some stress hissing out with his slow breath. “It’s not just me that matters, Bron. What do you want to do?”
“Me?”
“Do you want to find daycare and work? Do you want to do something online where you can have a home office here? We could make it work. We could set our own hours and always have someone here to watch Elowen. I know you can’t do business while you’re chasing after a toddler. We still have four years before she’s in school. I don’t expect you to just stay at homeand make meals and watch our daughter, as rewarding and wonderful as that is. If that’s what you want, that’s beautiful, but if you want to work, then I want that for you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not getting the credit you deserve.”
I push off the wall and cross the room to him. I want to hold him the same way I just had my arms wrapped around myself, but I take his hands and press my fingers into his palms instead. “I don’t feel that way. I’ve been thinking about what I can do to help us save up some money, but I do want to be a mom. I love being home with Ellie. I think splitting hours and working it into our schedule would be best, if we could do that. I want to be there for Ellie, and I want to be here for you. That’s what’s most important to me. I’d like to help out with your website and clients as much as possible.”
“I do like the space,” he admits, like it’s dangerous for him to say so. “I don’t want Dravin and Kael to have to pay for everything. Taking out a loan is one thing, or leasing the space from them—that does make sense—but I’d feel like I’m not pulling my weight. If I listed the land the way it is and sold it, we’d have some money to put into renovations to help them out, and we’d have something for us. I love this house, but I’d like to have something bigger for when we grow as a family. Is that a rat race thing to say?”
“We have time. It’s natural to want to grow as people and as a family. One day, we might need more space. That’s just logical. As we have more children.”
“You want more kids?” He knows that I do, but it’s sweet that he’s checking in. We haven’t had this conversation in full, ever. I’ve just always made it apparent that I adore children and would love a house full, and he’s always shied away, scaredby his own experience growing up with a mother he barely remembers, a violent father, and drunk uncles.
“If that’s what’s right for us. We have lots of time. Honestly, I want what you want.” He tries to protest, and I know how that sounds, so I clarify “You were never sure, and I was never going to force you. I didn’t see that as compromise. I saw a lot of love and growth for us in the future. You don’t fall in love. You stand in love. That means standing by someone. It means changing over and over again, growing together. It means standing firm when you need to be tough, and finding kindness when that’s needed more.”
“I know what I said about wanting to knock the house down and clean up the land, but maybe I should just sell it as it is? Just be done with it.” He somehow asks that as a question.
“Are you sure?”
“No, but at the same time, yes.” It’s not a safe answer, but it is guarded.
“You don’t have to do anything right away.”
“I know.” He doesn’t look like he knows.
“I was thinking about what else Kael said. About… being punished. And how- um- maybe I’d like you to do that to me.”
His eyes widen. He blinks like someone’s just turned his face and forced him to stare straight into the sun, but the sun isn’t there. “What would I punish you for? You’re perfect! You’re such a lovely person. Ihavepunished you over the past few years. More than enough for a lifetime.”
“Not that kind of punishment. Just pretend. For fun.” Fun. That’s something that we’ve never been able to have enough of. I want that for him. I want that for us.
