“Daddy?” Veronica scooped Robert from the floor before he could take off for the door. At three years old, he could dart off at any minute and when he did he could certainly take off. He talked non-stop and worshipped the very ground on which his daddy walked.

 “Yes. Yes, come on sweetheart. Come on Robbie, we’re going to go pick daddy up from the airport. Remember? Where we can watch the planes come in and out and in and out just like on the telly!” she sing-songed to Robert as she bundled him up in his coat.

 “Daddy’s coming home?” he asked in his precious toddler voice.

 “Yes. Daddy’s coming home.” Veronica repeated as she did her best to pack up the oversized bag for her boys. Trying to get out of the house with two children under four was an undertaking. Trying to get out of the house and to the escorted gates through the airport security was an even bigger undertaking. Veronica continued to answer Robert’s questions that came one after another as she tucked Michael into his carrier until they got to the car. Veronica had to trust that Robbie would stay still while she catered to Michael and the final things she needed to get together for the boys. Robert continued to talk about John’s return with excitement in his short sentences.

 “Yes, yes, Robert, That’s right.” Veronica cooed at him as she zipped the big bag up. The problem was that she had to lug all this stuff, plus Michael in one arm and Robert in her other free hand to the car in one trip. She couldn’t make two trips and had no idea how long She would be waiting at the airport. The last she had heard from John was in the transfer in Germany. Once Veronica would finally get her boys all loaded up, she had no idea how long she would need to wait with them at the airport. It wasn’t exactly an easy endeavor to keep two little boys entertained while waiting at the airport. Veronica pulled her coat around her shoulders before piling items on her shoulder.

 At exactly 10:37 AM the front door of the May house opened up, the rain setting a most relaxing backdrop to an exhausting night and an exhausting morning. Brian turned around to give his driver a wave. He wearily sat his bags down on the front porch, all three of them marked in various airport tags and looking almost as mangled as Brian. Chrissie held on to the door as she leaned over on it slightly and stared back at Brian. The smells of Christmas emerged from inside the house as Chrissie continued to stare nostalgically back at Brian. She didn’t even have to force her smile because she was beyond relieved to see him.  “Oh…” it was all she squeaked out before lunging forward and throwing her arms around him. Brian picked her up from the concrete stoop, her feet no longer touching the ground, squeezing her against him.

 “I’m home, sweetheart.” Brian said softly against her neck.

 “Yes…yes you are.” Chrissie’s overjoyed voice answered him. Feeling her feet hit the concrete again. She picked up one of his bags and brought it into the house. “I put some tea on, would you like some tea?” she asked as Brian followed her inside. He shook his head.

 “No. I just want you. I want you and…and Jimmy and…nothing else.” He said, a little choked up. Part of it could have been the exhaustion that had so obviously set in. Brian stepped back from Chrissie, his hands on her shoulders. “Where is Jimmy?” he asked.

 “Upstairs in his play pin.” Chrissie looked up to Brian with big almost nearly explosive eyes.

 “I’m…” Chrissie shook her head and put her hand over Brian’s lips.

 “Not now. Not now, sweetheart. You’re tired and I’m just…I’m so happy you’re home.” Chrissie confessed. It was apparent that the first subject to come out of Brian’s mouth was the infidelity in New Orleans. Chrissie didn’t want to talk about that…at least not right now. It would be a conversation for a time when Brian wasn’t sleep deprived and Chrissie wouldn’t respond with something she would regret. “You wanna’ go upstairs and see Jimmy?” she asked sincerely of him.  Brian shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment.

 “More than anything. Chrissie, the house looks so pretty.” He said, feeling the tears that were welling up in his eyes. He hadn’t taken her hands off his arms as she looked back at Brian.

 “You think so? I got the last of the Christmas decorations up the day before yesterday.” Chrissie shared. “Come on now. We can unpack your luggage later. Jimmy’s missed you so…” Chrissie’s sentence was interrupted by Brian’s hot kiss. He knelt his head down to her lips, tilting her chin up toward him. It was one of those kisses that quickly intensified into Brian’s hands moving down her neck, over her shoulders and to her waist. He picked her up again, turning around and sitting her on the ledge of the staircase as their kiss only grew more passionate in nature. Chrissie sighed against his lips. She felt nothing but lust for Brian in this moment. It had been three months and despite how hurt and angry Chrissie had been; she desperately wanted Brian. She put her hands on either side of his face, her fingers lost to the dark sea of curls in his hair. As she pulled him closer to her, she couldn’t help but notice that not only were her hands lost in his hair, but it was the very hair that she brushed on little Jimmy’s head. The lips in which hers were entangled were not just the lips of the husband she hadn’t seen in three months; they were the hungry lips of a man who wanted her. Her. The memory of the events that occurred in New Orleans were almost lost to the flood of champagne and out of control emotions….almost.

 They would have to part their lips long enough to get upstairs and get their clothes off and despite Brian’s fatigue, he did get Chrissie upstairs, closed the door to Jimmy’s room where he contently played in his pin. “No! Brian, he’s…”

 “Sshhh…” Brian hushed her.  “He’ll be fine.” Brian’s voice was barely above a whisper as he shoved Chrissie into their room and onto their bed that he had so desperately missed. It was apparent that she was in for a long overdo ride.

 Mary smiled as she appeared at the gates of Garden Lodge and letting herself in. “Look! Look how happy they are! It’s because their daddy is home!” Freddie said, referring to the cats. She smiled again.

 “I know.” She said. “They’re happy to see you.” she outstretched her arms to Freddie who immediately gave her a squeeze.

 “I missed you.” he said. “Oh! Oh, I brought you something!” the way Freddie smiled, Mary knew he was up to no good. He turned around and began to sift through a bag. “Tah dah!” He proudly displayed an enormous handful of beads.

 “Oh my god, Fred? What the hell is that?” she said, laughing at him.

 “Wait! Wait.” Freddie turned around again and pulled out another handful of beads and a t-shirt. “Look!” he said happily. Mary put her head in her hands at the sight of the t-shirt: I EARNED MY BEADS IN NEW ORLEANS 1978.

 “What the…” Mary looked at the shirt, holding it in front of her as Freddie decorated her neck in beads. She couldn’t stop laughing as Freddie continued to put strand after strand around her neck. “What are these? Freddie laughed even more before explaining to Mary precisely what she was wearing and how one went about obtaining them. He continued to pile beads on her.

 “I earned all of these for you!” Freddie snickered at her. Mary sat onto the loveseat in the sitting room as her beads rattled against one another. She shook her head as she examined the t-shirt further and proceeded to sort through the massive amount of beads around her. Freddie laughed again. Mary looked over at him.

 “Well, it certainly appears that you had a good time on the first part of the tour.” She said. Freddie grinned all over.

 “I had the most fun in New Orleans.” He said. Freddie laughed at her and returned her gaze. They sat there for a moment, peering at each others’ comforting smile. They continued to sit there quietly watching each other.

 “Ssss…so. When…when’s the appointment?” Freddie finally asked, fidgeting a little and trying to keep his smile. Mary shook her head.

“December 26th. The….the day after Christmas.” She answered him. Freddie nodded at her and continued to keep his pleasant smile.

 “December 26th.” He repeated. “Good. That’s…that’s very soon.” He said, laughing rather nervously in nature. Mary agreed, shaking her head repeatedly, her massive quantity of beads raking against each other. “And you…what…what have you learned…about my complaints?” he asked. Mary looked down to the floor as one of the cats gave her a sweet meow. She had hoped all the beads concealed how hard she swallowed. She shook her head.

 “It’s…it’s Christmas, Fred. Let’s…let’s not think about those things until after Christmas…after the appointment. I’m….I’m sure it’s...it’ll be okay.” Mary’s words said one thing but the look on her face and the glassiness in her eyes said something else; something Freddie couldn’t quite pinpoint. He gave her his biggest smile he could muster.

 “I know what we need to go with your beads! Eggnog! Come! Come! To the kitchen with us!” Freddie said, happily jumping up from the loveseat and reaching for her hands knowing good and well Mary had bought eggnog for him earlier in the week. Mary gave him a kind smile and stood up with him, beads in tote. Freddie knew what he needed; what they needed was a good laugh. Something to distract he and Mary.  A cold, rainy, December afternoon with eggnog and beads proved to be a perfect distraction.

 In Surrey, a rainy morning was also set in. The mist hung over the estate. Roger’s driver from the airport arrived at exactly 12:18 PM. I had every intention of wearing my absolute best for his arrival; which could be expected of me. But not today. Roger came home to me with my gross hair, which I hadn’t had a chance to put onto my curlers.  My skin was a blotchy, disgusting mess and I was clad in a most awful white and blue printed….night….gown that Veronica had given me. I simply can’t say the M word in front of it. I had been so very excited to see Roger…that was until I realized that he would actually see me. Currently, we were in the sitting room off the kitchen. Roger had been home for a half hour…and he couldn’t stop staring at me. I could feel them. His eyes on my ghastly, misshapen body. I could feel him looking me over in the homely, oversized, night gown. I did my best to give him a smile as I darted my eyes to the floor. I was genuinely grateful to have Roger home but I was also feeling so very uncertain.

 Roger put a hand on my knee and moved closer to me. “You’re so quiet. You feel okay?” he asked me, running his palm on my thigh. I watched his hand carefully. I shook my head and put my hand on his. 

 “I’m…I’m okay.” I answered him briefly. I desperately wanted to offer something to Roger but it wasn’t like I could actually do anything for him because my stomach was in knots. It was a different kind of sickness I felt. I couldn’t pinpoint it but it wasn’t the same kind of feeling.  He shook his head at me.

 “Alright. I’ll be back in a minute, sweetheart.” Roger got up from the couch and walked into the dining room where our liquor cabinet was located.

 “I looked over the applications we received and narrowed it down to four.” I called to him as he was out of the room.

 “Yeah?” I heard him answer me.

 “Yeah, I thought we would..." I stopped as Roger returned to my side; sitting his cocktail on the table and lighting his cigarette. I was suddenly and crazily, irrationally angry. I was so angry in the moment that I coulda' torn him apart and I had no idea what had come over me. I laid the coldest, cruelest eyes of my life on him; not even hearing what comments he added to our search for a nurse midwife. He glanced up at me, doing a double take when he saw my eyes that were about to kill 'im. 

 "What? What's wrong?" He asked of me. I shook my head slowly as I glared at him in disbelief. 

 "Why don't you fuck yourself?" I said coldly as I slammed the list down on the table in front of the couch and walked away. The moment I did it, I knew I was wrong. But it shit it wasn't fair! It just wasn't fair! Nothing…nothing had changed for Roger and yet my world gets completely fucked over because one bloody sperm got off its lazy arse and swam!? Jesus fucking Christ! This was bullshit! 

 "Lydia! Lydia, what is wrong with you!?" Roger called after me as I disappeared upstairs. I felt nauseated and overwhelmed. "Lyd! Hey, hey stop. What the hell? We have to go through the list! Is something wrong? I wanna’ go through the list with you.” He continued to call to me before getting up from the couch.

 "I'm not supposed to breathe the fuckin' smoke, Roger! You think I gave up smoking because I fuckin' wanted to!? NO! You think I gave up drinking because I wanted to!? Do you fucking think...I asked for this!?" I yelled, pointing at my own body. "You come in here and you...you...you look the same! You sound the same and nothing in your life has changed!" I screamed, throwing the covers off the bed. There was no way in hell I was working on that list of interviewees tonight. "You act like being pregnant isn't a big deal! It's a big fucking deal, Roger and I hate it! I fucking hate this! I am a worthless, useless, imperfect horror who is sick all the time and who can't fit into any of my clothes!! I can't wear anything in that fuckin' closet! I can blink wrong and I'm ready to throw up!" I was nearly hysterical and Roger stood there looking at me in absolutely horror. He had never seen me like this before. Ever. "Jesus fucking god! STOP FUCKING LOOKING AT ME! DON'T FUCKING LOOK AT ME!" I screamed at Roger in a way that I had never screamed at him before. In seven years I had could only recall two other occasions when I actually yelled at him...but this time was brutal. He looked at me with the most shocked and bewildered look I had ever seen on his face. 

 "Lyd...relax...you need to...re..." I cut him off. 

 "Don't you tell me to relax! You come in here and you act like...you act like..." I had no idea how I wanted to finish my thought. Instead, I sunk down into our bed, wearing the god-awful night gown and bawled. I think Roger was almost frightened of me. Pregnancy had reduced me to a ball of tears, sickness, and insecurity. Never in my life had I felt more defeated and miserable.