All We Had to Keep Us Safe

After I ordered the pizza, Bob and I sat down on the couches across from each other. “So where’s that little monster of yours?” Bob asked.

I rolled my eyes at him, saying, “She’s taking a nap. She’ll probably be up soon, though.”

“I’m not a monster,” my cute little girl’s voice said defiantly when she walked around the corner. With one hand she pushed black curls out of her face and robbed her eyes. With the other she held Teddy, her soft, purple stuffed bear that she never slept without.

“Well, look what we have here!” Bob exclaimed. “It’s no monster at all. It’s just Chloe. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Bob!” she yelled, stumbling over to him. I grimaced. At first I’d wanted her to call him Mr. Bryar, but he thought the idea was absurd and insisted she call him Bob. I suppose it was easier for her to say anyways.

He got up and she jumped into his arms. He flung her around in a circle while she giggled and squealed. I couldn’t help but smile. Bob needed a kid of his own. I knew he wanted one eventually. He set Chloe down on his lap, grinning. “Did you have a nice nap?” he asked her.

To my surprise, she pouted and replied, “I can’t ever fall asleep at naptime.”

Bob’s eyebrows furrowed together and he pressed curiously. “Really? Why not?”

Her eyes wide and innocent, she answered, “Daddy is always yelling at Mommy.”

Bob kept a straight face in front of Chloe, but I knew he was really bothered by this. When he gave me a look that said so, I smiled at Chloe and said, “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’ll try to tell Daddy to keep it down next time.”

She pretty much ignored me and turned back to Bob, looking at him as if he was Santa Claus. “Read me a story,” she demanded rudely.

Bob chuckled, and there was only a shadow of suspicion left in him. “Only if you say please and go get the book you want me to read to you,” he countered.

“Please,” she stated as she scurried off his lap and up the stairs. She must’ve been headed to her room to get him a book.

Of course, he turned to me as soon as she was out of earshot, concern written on his face. “Jade, he yells at you all the time, doesn’t he?” he pried.

For once, I met his eyes. I’d been getting bolder lately, but I didn’t know where it was coming from. “So what if he does?” I retorted sharply, felling bad even while I was saying it. I knew he was only asking because he cared.

If it was possible, he began to look even more worried, almost panicked now. He asked, “He doesn’t… I mean, did he… Has he ever his you before?”

I slammed down the strongest barrier I could. I disguised myself as sarcastic, but really I was scared as hell. “Oh, please, Bob. Of course not! I can’t believe you would even go there.” I curled my lip in disgust and shook my head at him.

Underneath, I was a mess. I couldn’t believe he’d asked me that on the very day it happened. What were the chances of that? I was more than a little shaken by his accuracy. Not to mention that I wanted so badly just to tell him. He was always the one person who wouldn’t judge me and I could depend on, and now I was keeping something from him. However, I knew it would be better that he didn’t know. It was only a one time thing. I’d learned to keep my mouth shut when Mark was angry. Why worry Bob about it?

He looked so relieved. He really thought I was telling the truth. I wouldn’t have been lying before that day. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it to offend you. I was just making sure. As your friend, that’s my job.”

At that moment Chloe emerged from the stairs, holding Teddy and a children’s story book. She sat next to Bob and handed it to him graciously. Bob smirked, opened it up, and began reading about talking spiders, ducks, and flowers.

The scene was so strange. A big, strong man with piercings was reading a kid story to my little, innocent daughter while I watched on. When Bob finished, the pizza was delivered, and we began to eat. Bob helped me cut Chloe’s pizza into little pieces so that she wouldn’t choke on them. She wasn’t even three yet.

“Daddy doesn’t read to me,” she mused, looking at her food. She wasn’t sad or angry; she was only pointing out the obvious, as children often do.

“I’ll read to you more often, then,” Bob vowed, shooting me an indecipherable look.

At Chloe’s request, we began watching Finding Nemo after dinner. She wedged herself comfortably between me and Bob.

When her eyes started drooping, I said, “Chloe, why don’t you go to bed? We can finish the movie in the morning.”

“I don’t want to,” she whined.

“Come on, sweetie, it’s getting late,” I said firmly.

“Bob won’t be here when I wake up,” she replied, clutching his arm – whish was almost as big as her – tightly.

Bob grinned, pleased that she was attached to him. “Probably not,” he allowed sadly, “but I’ll visit another day.”

Chloe pouted, but she let me take her to change her diaper and put on her pajamas. Bob helped her brush her teeth, and then I tucked her in. Kissing her forehead, I whispered, “Good night, angel.”

She smiled at me, and then I turned off the light. Joining Bob on the couch, I started, “It is getting late. You should probably –”

“I get it,” he interrupted bitterly. “You don’t want me here when he gets home.”

I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry it had to be this way. I wish we didn’t have to sneak around like our friendship is wrong,” I murmured.

“Me too,” he replied.

I jumped from him quickly. I heard the garage door opening. I said rapidly, “I’m sorry. If you go out the front door, he won’t see you.”

But it was too late. Mark walked through the door connected to the garage, already flowing with anger.