Isabel & Leo - Short Stories

After The Storm

"There is no way I'm letting this go!"

I slam the bedroom door hard enough to rumble the walls of the house. Lia sits on my bed hugging her favorite stuffed animal, hiding the bottom half of her face behind the black unicorn head while rubbing her cheek with the white glittery horn. Jay sleeps soundly next to her.

I pace the bedroom floor, mumbling curses and insults under my breath, releasing the pent-up anger by shaking my wrists and bending my neck side to side. Why did I get married in the first place? Why did we start a family? Why am I still putting up with Leo's nonsense?

I finally stop and sigh and look at Lia. She moves her tiny frame over a few inches so I can lay down between her and Jay. "I'm sorry, Honey. Mommy and Daddy are just having an argument."

The ceiling fan spins in a smooth rhythm; my eyelids feel heavy. Lia stays frozen as I drift into unconsciousness. Shouting at the top of my lungs is exhausting. I think about how easy things were when I was single, before marriage, before kids, before mortgages and shared accounts, before arguments about finances and cleaning this large house, when all I had to worry about was my career and what party to attend on the weekends. Trips to the beach, eating anything I wanted without worrying about my weight. The beach. Ocean waves. Calypso music . . .

"Is Daddy really going to move into the basement?"

Lia's voice jars me back to consciousness. "What, honey?"

"I heard you tell Daddy that if he loves his basement so much then he should move into it. And Daddy said he would."

"You shouldn't listen in on our conversations."

"Well, you were shouting. It was hard not to hear."

I glare. "Next time, ignore us. We said a lot of things to each other."

Lia mumbles into her unicorn's head. "A lot of mean things."

A huff escapes me—there will be no falling asleep for me now. I lean on my elbow and face her. "Sometimes, when you argue with someone you love, you say a lot of mean things just to win the argument. You never really mean the horrible things you say, but you say them anyway because they'll weaken the person you are arguing with, and then you can beat them. It's not nice, and usually, we aren't like that, but sometimes Daddy and I lose our cool."

"So you didn't mean it when you said Daddy was selfish?"

"Oh no, I meant that." I chuckle lightly, but when I see Lia is serious, I clear my throat. "I mean it for things you don't yet understand.

"And what about Daddy saying that you are a control freak . . . did he mean that? It's not the first time he's said it."

I nod and sigh. Lia being so observant is both a blessing and a curse.

"Are you a control freak, Mommy?"

I sigh once more. "Sometimes."

"Is Daddy selfish?"

"We are all selfish, sometimes."

When Lia stops her interrogation, I look up to find her forehead in a tight wrinkle—she's working the math in her head. "So if you know you're a control freak, sometimes, and everyone is selfish, sometimes, then why did you and Daddy start arguing? You're both right, right?"

I sit up. "Yes, we are both right, and we are both wrong in letting ourselves lose our tempers. We don't like it, but sometimes it's hard to stop."

"But . . . you were cursing at each other. You and Daddy said you hated each other." Lia's eyes turn red, and I can tell she's stifling tears.

My head sinks into her lap. "I'm so sorry you had to hear that, Lia."

"Do you? Do you hate each other?"

I sit up slowly and take Lia's hands into mine. My eyes flit around the room as if I'll discover the right words to say written on a wall.

"Daddy and I are so competitive that, sometimes, we forget that winning an argument isn't the most important thing. Verbally beating your opponent by cursing and name-calling isn't really winning. When you are in the heat of the argument, it just seems like winning. We both lose our senses and act like big jerks."

Lia nods and wipes a tear that escapes her control. "You were both big jerks."

I can't stop my sheepish grin. "Yes, we were. Big, big jerks. But, always know that your daddy and I love each other very much. If we argue, and it gets crazy like it did today, just remember that it was just Mom and Dad being crazy. Ignore the words we say because, eventually, we cool off and apologize and everything goes back to normal. We get over it and move on. We don't mean any of it. Besides, you know Daddy is freaking fantastic and . . . I think I'm pretty cool too, right?"

A sweet smile illuminates Lia's face. "Right. You're both awesome."

"Right. So, next time, just ignore us. All thunderstorms pass, you just have to wait it out. Okay?

Lia nods, and I lay back down to succumb to the ceiling fan's narcoleptic effect. But before I can jump into the ocean waves of my dream, Lia nudges me on my shoulder.

"So, are you going to apologize to Daddy, or is he going to apologize to you?"

I chortle. "No way I'm apologizing."

"What about Daddy moving to the basement?"

"You can help him move if you want."

"Really?" Lia says, a bit happier than I expected. "Where is he going to sleep?"

"Probably on one of the reclining chairs."

Lia gasps. "Oh, and I can lend him my sleeping bag! He fits. It's made for adults."

"Sure. I think Daddy will love it."

Lia leaps to her feet and shakes Jay wildly until he wakes up. "Quick Jay, we're going to help Daddy move into the basement."

I smile and chuckle silently.

"Why is Daddy moving to the basement?"

"Because the storm is still around."

Jay rubs his eyes as he lowers himself from my bed. "What storm?"

"You're too young to understand. I'll explain when you're older. Let's go get our sleeping bags."

As they run down the stairs, Lia shouts, "Daddy, Mom said we can help you move into the basement! Jay and I have sleeping bags for you!"

Leo shouts back from the basement, "Great! I'll pack the cooler with food, and you and Leo can camp out with me!"

Lia and Jay shout back, "Awesome!"