Page 128 of Power Move
“I tried. I tried at the doctor’s. I tried at the baby store. I keep trying and it just doesn’t work. Maybewedon’t work? We just don’t live in the same world. We don’t speak the same language, Davey.”
“I refuse to believe that. Tell me what is bothering you. I’m listening.” I rubbed her back, giving her time to breathe.
“I want my mom. I wanted to go shopping with her and pickout clothes and plan the nursery with her. I wanted my dad to help build something. I wanted to do the things my sister got to do with them. And I wantedsobadly to have a shower. You can say it’s gauche or stupid, but where I come from, it’s a big fucking deal. It’s a huge thing. And… I won’t get that. You made it so clear. It doesn’t fit intoyourworld. It doesn’t meetyourfamily’s expectations. So, we cannot do it. Our children need to sit completely in your little world—a domain I don’t understand. It makes me what to scream. I feel like an accessory whose wants and desires don’t matter. That’s why when you brought up names, I had a meltdown.”
“Shit. Eva… I didn’t think you’d care about any of that. I want you to fit in—and you do. Mum loves you. My sisters adore you. Derrick likes to joke with you, so that’s as good as it gets.”
“I mold myself to fit in. I know how to talk and act as well as I can, but it’s not the same thing when you’re having babies—when you’re trying to raise them. I want them to have drive and to appreciate hard work. And I want them to love and respect their grandparents—both sets—regardless of what their bank accounts say. I won’t get any of that, Davey.”
My heart broke.
I pulled her closer. “Your parents love you, Eva. They will come around.”
“I have heard nothing. They will stick by Brooke and want me to play nice. And even if they threw me a stupid shower, you’d fight me, and she’d show up and fucking ruin it.”
“I want to believe—and truly do—that they will fix things. It will never be perfect, but they love you. Why don’t you call them?—”
“I’m not in a place I can emotionally do that.” Eva shook her head. “And you deserve better than this. You’re right. I should?—”
I cupped her face. “No, Eva. I am sorry. I should have just told you how I felt—confided in you. We should have communicated better. But there is no one else and there’s nothing more Iwant than for us to just be happy—all four of us, okay? Stop going there. Stop doubting your feelings.”
“I am trying, okay.”
“Don’t leave. I’d never forgive myself if you did.” I kissed her forehead. “I love you—And these babies. Just let me love you.”
35.SHOWING UP
Davey
At twenty-four weeks,I needed to do something to blow Eva away. We’d hit the illustrious viability day. Things were better than before, but nowhere near perfect. Eva continued trying. We talked about things not just after a good roll in the hay, but over meals with our clothes on. She no longer resisted eating a lunch with me for fear of what people might say. Slowly, her walls came down.
But no matter what I did, I couldn’t fix the underlying problem. So, on viability day, I held my entire afternoon—saying nothing to Eva. I made a trip south, all while ensuring she had a cake waiting for her with “Happy Viability Day” written in bubbly letters. I sent her flowers and looked for no big response. These weren’t grand gestures, and I wasn’t there for her to coo over it, so she’d feel more comfortable accepting.
What I did in the wake of those things was take a ridiculous journey south to Eva’s homeland. I posted up at her parents’ house unexpected, finding only her dad’s truck near the barn with Eva’s beloved childhood horse in the crossties. Neither of her parents were in sight. I patted the horse.
“Hey, Poco. Anyone around?”
The horse bobbed his head to say yes, but I heard nothing.
I called out over the radio playing classic rock, “Hello! Bert? Mary?”
Nothing. I filed down the barn aisle, past another horse in a stall, and into the pasture behind the barn. I spotted Bert trying to tack a third board on the fence.
“Shit,” I trotted over. “Bert!”
He dropped the board and turned, not expecting anyone.
“Can I help?” I offered.
“Dressed like that?” Bert wiped his brow. “I don’t think so.”
“I can help,” I said.
“Poco went wild and decided to kick down the fence. He ended up down the road eating grass on the golf course,” Bert said. “Mary went to town. I figured she’d be back by now, but no. I’ve been lugging this thing around trying to nail with one hand and hold it with the other. But I forgot my glasses and I cannot even see.”
“Can you hold the board?” I asked.
“Sure,” Bert said.
