A Sister's Promise excerpt:
“I don’t want to fight again.” Mitch opened the fridge, reached past the meatloaf, pulled out a bottle of beer and sat down on the other couch. He picked up the remote control and turned on the TV.
Kate sighed. “No, I don’t either. Would you please turn that off?”
The screen went blank.
“It’s just that I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. I started wondering if you’d been thinking about it, too.”
“Do we really have to get into this again? It’s been a long day.”
She had to get this off her chest. “I know things are shaky at work for you right now, but I’m starting to feel like if we ever want to have a family, it’s now or never.”
“Because of Joely,” he said.
“And because I’m not getting any younger.” She thought about the picture of Ricardo’s little brother. “I’m thirty-five. On top of everything else, every year we wait, my chances of having a Down’s syndrome baby go up.”
He didn’t respond.
Kate rubbed Monte’s coat a little faster. The day’s frustrations came back to her. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t even make a difference. I mean, I only see my students for a few minutes and I’m trying to make-up for what’s missing in their home life. At least if I had my own kid I would have a bigger impact on one life than I do on the 218 I’m responsible for now.”
He took a drink. “Sounds like you just had a bad day at work.”
“Definitely. I had the opportunity to actually do what I was trained to do, instead of filling out some statistical analysis for the state, and I sucked at it.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” He walked back to the pantry and scanned the shelves again.
Was that all it was? A bad day at work? Or was it more than that? Kate looked at the mantel clock’s swinging pendulum. She walked near Mitch and leaned against the kitchen island. “I guess I’m thinking maybe we should have a baby.” Her stomach flip-flopped. “I’m wondering if you. . . .because if you really don’t want one . . . .he or she deserves an involved dad.”
He slammed the pantry doors shut. “That’s it.” He marched past her and up the stairs.
She followed him into their bedroom and watched as he pulled a duffle bag from his closet. He jerked open the top drawer on his bureau and started grabbing socks and underwear and shoving them in the bag’s open zipper.
Kate watched him with awe. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve tried to be patient because your sister is sick.” He tossed T-shirts and jeans into the bag. “But I can’t take this. I’m obviously not the man you want to be married to any more.”
She grabbed his forearm. “Yes, you are.”
He shook her hand away. “No, I’m not. All you talk about these days is having a baby.” He went to his closet and carried out dress shirts and pants still on their hangers. “You can’t just change the rules in the middle of the game.”
God, it looked like he was packing for a month-long trip. “Mitch, please don’t be like this. I just wanted. . . .” She wasn’t sure what she wanted.
He carried his bag and work clothes past her. The smell of perspiration mixed with Polo cologne. Her heart pounded. She heard him hurry down the stairs as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
In ten years of marriage, their fights had never escalated to this level. She stumbled on the stairs and almost fell, catching herself with the handrail. She raced to catch up to Mitch. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t look at her as he swung open the door to the garage. “Does it matter?”
Kate flinched when his Mustang’s door slammed. She watched him speed away.
Kate sighed. “No, I don’t either. Would you please turn that off?”
The screen went blank.
“It’s just that I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. I started wondering if you’d been thinking about it, too.”
“Do we really have to get into this again? It’s been a long day.”
She had to get this off her chest. “I know things are shaky at work for you right now, but I’m starting to feel like if we ever want to have a family, it’s now or never.”
“Because of Joely,” he said.
“And because I’m not getting any younger.” She thought about the picture of Ricardo’s little brother. “I’m thirty-five. On top of everything else, every year we wait, my chances of having a Down’s syndrome baby go up.”
He didn’t respond.
Kate rubbed Monte’s coat a little faster. The day’s frustrations came back to her. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t even make a difference. I mean, I only see my students for a few minutes and I’m trying to make-up for what’s missing in their home life. At least if I had my own kid I would have a bigger impact on one life than I do on the 218 I’m responsible for now.”
He took a drink. “Sounds like you just had a bad day at work.”
“Definitely. I had the opportunity to actually do what I was trained to do, instead of filling out some statistical analysis for the state, and I sucked at it.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” He walked back to the pantry and scanned the shelves again.
Was that all it was? A bad day at work? Or was it more than that? Kate looked at the mantel clock’s swinging pendulum. She walked near Mitch and leaned against the kitchen island. “I guess I’m thinking maybe we should have a baby.” Her stomach flip-flopped. “I’m wondering if you. . . .because if you really don’t want one . . . .he or she deserves an involved dad.”
He slammed the pantry doors shut. “That’s it.” He marched past her and up the stairs.
She followed him into their bedroom and watched as he pulled a duffle bag from his closet. He jerked open the top drawer on his bureau and started grabbing socks and underwear and shoving them in the bag’s open zipper.
Kate watched him with awe. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve tried to be patient because your sister is sick.” He tossed T-shirts and jeans into the bag. “But I can’t take this. I’m obviously not the man you want to be married to any more.”
She grabbed his forearm. “Yes, you are.”
He shook her hand away. “No, I’m not. All you talk about these days is having a baby.” He went to his closet and carried out dress shirts and pants still on their hangers. “You can’t just change the rules in the middle of the game.”
God, it looked like he was packing for a month-long trip. “Mitch, please don’t be like this. I just wanted. . . .” She wasn’t sure what she wanted.
He carried his bag and work clothes past her. The smell of perspiration mixed with Polo cologne. Her heart pounded. She heard him hurry down the stairs as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
In ten years of marriage, their fights had never escalated to this level. She stumbled on the stairs and almost fell, catching herself with the handrail. She raced to catch up to Mitch. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t look at her as he swung open the door to the garage. “Does it matter?”
Kate flinched when his Mustang’s door slammed. She watched him speed away.
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