Nachos
I spend the hours before Kate’s arrival obsessively cleaning the house. I know she’ll just accuse me of making my mom clean it, because I’ve never been good at housework, but I can take pride in telling her I did it myself, even if she doesn’t believe it.
It has to be done, though. I don’t know why, but this feels like a big… thing… that I need to be prepared for. Kate’s return, I mean. It’s some kind of really big turning point, although I’m not sure what we’re turning toward or away from. I don’t know where anything in my life is going, but I can’t help thinking that whatever it is, it’s going to happen soon. Like… as soon as Kate gets here.
She texts me every time that she stops along the way for food and bathroom breaks. I’m not sure why she’s so intent on communicating with me when she hasn’t called or even texted a single time during her entire stay in Georgia. Does this mean she wants to try to make things work again? I really don’t know.
It’s sad that I kind of hope she doesn’t. I’ve gotten used to the idea of being alone. It’s not that I really want to be alone, and it’s not even that I want to be rid of Kate. Even though I know our relationship isn’t all that great, it’s what I know. It’s what I’m accustomed to. I’m not sure that I really know how to be anyone other than her husband, but I was starting to learn.
The drive from her parent’s home in Georgia back to Tulsa is a long one and I think she’s kind of crazy for doing it at all, let alone doing it in one day. She doesn’t like flying, though. Never has. She always makes excuses when going on tour with us would mean flying somewhere, although she has bit the bullet a few times. That’s just Kate, though. She chooses the hardest way possible to do anything, just to prove that she can.
Maybe that’s why she picked a husband who’s so hard to love.
She’s somewhere in Arkansas by the time I finish my ridiculous cleaning spree and sit down on the couch to relax with a beer and a frozen pizza. Not the healthiest meal, but there’s no one here to judge me for it and all evidence of it will be gone by the time the one person who would judge me for it is here. I don’t really care anymore, though. I’m just so tired.
Which I suppose is why I fall asleep somewhere around halfway through the can of beer. It’s not even like I’ve been drinking all day. It’s just the one, and I’m definitely not drunk. The sound of my own loud snoring jars me awake and I have no clue how long I’ve even been asleep, but there’s a text from Kate letting me know that she stopped to pick up Taco Bueno just outside of town, so I guess I’ve been out for quite some time.
Every one of Kate’s actions today, from the constant texts to buying my favorite fast food, points to her trying to mend fences. It makes me nervous. I don’t know what she expects from me. Are we just going to go back to normal now and pretend that she never left? I don’t know. I don’t know anything.
What I do know is that she sent that text several minutes ago, which means she probably isn’t that far from home. I jump up off the couch and down the rest of my beer in one gulp, then head to the kitchen to toss out the can and wash my empty pizza plate. Hopefully I’ll have time to clean up this last little bit of my sloppiness before Kate arrives. I don’t know why I’m trying to impress her, but I can’t really deny that’s what I’m doing.
In a moment of absolutely perfect timing, I hear her car in the driveway at the exact moment that I put the last dish in the drainer. Isn’t it funny how life has a way of just working out like that sometimes? If only everything could be so easy. I have a feeling this will be the last easy moment I have all evening. Luckily, it’s pretty late, so there isn’t that much time for things to go wrong.
I rush to the garage door as soon as I hear her key begin to turn in it. If I know Kate, and I do, I know she’ll be trying to carry in all of her bags and probably at least one of our sleeping children at the same time. There’s no way that can possibly end well.
Sure enough, as soon as I fling the door open, I see Kate with Junia tucked onto her hip and her other hands juggling half a dozen Taco Bueno bags. Okay, maybe not quite that many, but a lot. She gives me an exhausted look that I think is probably meant to be thankful and holds out the paper bags without a word.
I take them from her and set them on the kitchen counter before turning back to see what else she needs my help with. She’s already disappearing up the stairs, so I take it upon myself to check the car. Shep is snoring away in the backseat and although it takes a little effort now that he’s almost not even a toddler anymore, I manage to unbuckle him and sling him across my shoulder without disturbing his sleep at all.
And just like that, Kate and I fall back into our old familiar routine of getting shit done without needing to speak a word. It’s both impressive and kind of sad at the same time.
Once the kids are tucked into their beds and I’ve helped Kate carry in all of her bags and theirs, we make our way back to the kitchen where the food still awaits, rapidly cooling down on the counter. At this point, I don’t even care if it is cold. It’s still a peace offering from my favorite restaurant. How could I turn that down?
Actually, that’s not a fair question. I can think of plenty of reasons to turn it down. For example, exactly what sort of peace is Kate offering? I have no clue at all, and I’m almost afraid to find out.
“Can we eat in bed?” She asks, picking up two of the bags. “I’m so tired, Zac.”
“Yeah,” I reply, grabbing a soda for myself from the refrigerator, because I highly doubt I’ll be sleeping at all, and picking up the rest of the bags of food.
Kate changes into her pajamas – a pair of my old boxers and a college t-shirt – while I have first pick of the feast lying on our bed. I’m not sure what it says about me that I’m more interested in the food than my half-naked wife, but I think I’m past the point of really worrying about my sexuality. It is… whatever it is, I guess.
Once I’ve located a couple of tacos, nachos, cheese and salsa, I settle in to eat. Kate joins me and only picks up a bag of plain nachos. I’m not surprised; even before she started those crazy fasts, she didn’t eat nearly enough, at least not by my standards. But I eat enough for an entire football team, so that’s not saying much.
We eat in silence for a while, the constant crunch of nachos the only sound. I know eventually we have to talk, but it doesn’t look like Kate is going to be the first to speak, so I decide to take some initiative for once.
“Did you guys, umm, did you have a good time?”
For a second, I fear that Kate is going to say something sarcastic, because I know it’s a stupid question, but finally, she nods. “Yeah, it was good. They really enjoyed seeing their Nana and Papa. It was just.. good to get away.”
“Away from me,” I reply, trying to keep my voice light. It’s more of a joke than a real admonishment, anyway.
“I guess,” she replies. “Just away from everything. But… well, Nat’s going to need me here now.”
I nod. “I know. I know that’s why you came back.”
“It’s not the only reason,” she replies, her brow furrowing. I’m trying to be good here, but it’s clear that I’m still testing her nerves that are probably already frayed from so many hours in a car with two small kids. “You and me… we’ve got to figure out what’s going on here. We’ve gotta do… something.”
She doesn’t want to say divorce. I can practically see her tip-toeing around the word, as though not saying it will mean it isn’t what we’re inevitably heading toward. But it is. I know it is, and she knows it is. I thought there was a glimmer of hope in the way she acted today, but now I can see that nothing has really changed. We’re just both so tired.
“So what are we going to do?” I ask, even though I highly doubt that Kate has any answers for me.
“I really don’t know,” she replies, gingerly picking a quesadilla out of the bag. She tears off small pieces of it and takes her time chewing them.
I really don’t know, either. This is, strangely, the most comfortable I’ve felt with her in a long time, even though I know I have a million reasons not to. All I need to do is remember the things I’ve done with Carrick and Taylor and the realization that I’m an awful husband comes crashing down on me. But these small moments alone with Kate are good. These are the things I’ll miss once it’s over.
“You know,” Kate says with a heavy sigh and I have to brace myself. God only knows what could follow that. “I should probably… I mean, Natalie really needs me right now.”
“Okay?” I reply, not at all sure where she’s going with that train of thought.
“Well, she’s going through a lot, you know? And who… who can relate better to what she’s going through right now than I can?”
I nod and reach out a hand to touch Kate’s knee. It’s not exactly a romantic gesture, and I doubt she’ll interpret it that way, but I know I need to do something. I know that whatever I felt when we lost those babies is nothing compared to what Kate felt. I can’t even begin to relate to her, or to Natalie, right now.
“It won’t… hurt anything if we wait a while to sort out our problems, right?” Kate asks, in that tone of voice that says she’s already made up both of our minds.
“No, I suppose it won’t,” I reply.
“Good,” Kate says, pushing her food away and wiping her hands together. “I think… I think I’ll go stay with her at Pam’s for a while. Just until she feels a little better, you know? It won’t be like I’m in another state this time.”
I’m not really sure what she means by that. Does she have any clue what happened while she was gone? How could she? I’ve done a pretty good job of hiding who I really am from her, and even as I think that, I realize how awful it sounds. The truth is bound to come out eventually, but I know that even if she’s on the other side of town, I’ll still be hiding. For now, at least, the truth will stay hidden.
“We’ll figure things out,” Kate says. It almost sounds like a question more than it does a statement. How could she know what the future possibly holds for us?
From where I’m sitting, the future can’t possibly hold anything good. Just thinking about it makes me feel sick and like I shouldn’t be sharing a bed with her. I think this will officially be the first time I’ve kicked myself out of our bed.
“I’m just… umm, I’m gonna go downstairs and finish eating. I’ll let you get some rest, okay?”
Kate nods and almost smiles. Of course she’s clueless as to what I’m really thinking, and that just makes me feel worse.
She hands off the rest of the food to me and I balance it precariously in my arms while she curls up under the covers. She looks so comfortable and at home that you’d hardly even believe that she’s been gone for days. Everything looks perfect, but I know it’s not.
A few moments later, I’ve made my way to the kitchen. The entire house is so quiet that it seems every move and every sound I make is amplified. It’s good to have other people – besides Carrick, of course – in the house again. With Kate gone, I could see just how easy it would be for me to become a hermit. Obviously I’d have to leave eventually for concerts and things, but if left to my own devices, I would probably only leave my house to go shopping.
That can’t possibly be healthy and I’m not sure what it says about me. I’d rather not dwell on that. I’ve got enough problems.
The crunch of my nachos is so loud that it might as well be a gunshot. I pause for a moment, but no one seems to stir. I’m all alone, even when the house isn’t empty. I wonder if it will be like this for the entire time that Kate stays here. Then I wonder how long that will be. It can’t go on forever, though; I think we both know this is over. It’s only a matter of time.
That train of thought leads me to wondering how long Kate will stay with Natalie, and how that is going to work, anyway. Will she take the kids with her? Or will she leave them with me? She might joke about how awful of a father I am, but I know that deep down, she does trust me with them. That’s probably the only positive thought she can spare for me, though.
I pull another beer from the refrigerator, because if I’m already throwing myself a pity party, I might as well go in all the way. My life these days seems to be nothing but a constant stream of pity parties for one reason or another.
But most of them can be traced back to only one cause. Me.