Chapter 4 - The Escalation
At 1:00 PM, my mother’s phone rang. I was sitting on her porch, wrapped in a warm blanket, reading a book while resting my casted arm on a plush pillow.
Vivienne looked at the caller ID, lifted an eyebrow at me, and put the call on speaker.
"Hello, Derek," Mom said calmly.
"Vivienne!" Derek’s voice sounded cracked, ragged, and frantic. "Is Rachel with you? Please tell me she’s there! I’ve been trying to reach her for five hours!"
"She is resting, Derek," Vivienne said smoothly. "Her doctor explicitly ordered six weeks of rest to prevent permanent nerve damage in her right wrist."
"Vivienne, please! I missed my presentation with the VP! Greg threatened to reassign my primary accounts if I don't show up at the office by 3:00 PM! I can't do this alone! The babies won't stop crying! They haven't slept! I haven't eaten!"
I reached over with my left hand and tapped the screen to speak.
"Derek," I said, my voice ice-cold.
"Rachel!" He gasped, sounding like a drowning man catching a breath of air. "Rachel, please, baby, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for what I said! You need to come home right now! I can't take care of both of them with work!"
"You don't have to take care of them with work, Derek," I said softly. "Take a sick day."
"I can't take a sick day! I’m a senior associate! If I take an unscheduled day off, it looks terrible on my record!"
"Interesting," I replied. "So when your career is at stake, a day off is impossible. But when my body is broken, taking care of two infants twenty-four hours a day is just expected?"
"Rachel, it’s not the same thing!" he shouted, desperation making him aggressive again. "You don't have a boss firing you!"
"I don't have a boss firing me, Derek, but I have a husband who completely devalues my existence," I said, every word carefully measured. "You told me being a stay-at-home mother isn't real work. You told me moms don't get sick days. So I am letting you experience what my 'non-work' actually entails."
"Rachel, Owen is crying so hard he’s sweating!" he whimpered.
"Then pick him up," I said. "Burp him. Check his temperature. Change his suit. Sing to him. Do what a father is supposed to do. I will be home tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM. Not a minute sooner."
"Rachel! Wait—!"
I hung up the phone.
Vivienne looked at me, a proud smile spreading across her face. "You did the right thing, sweetheart. A man who doesn't respect the foundation of his home will eventually destroy it."
May you like
"Do you think the boys are okay?" I asked, a sudden pang of maternal guilt striking my heart.
"Derek loves those boys," Vivienne reassured me, taking my left hand. "He won't let anything physically harm them. He is just discovering, for the very first time, how much weight you've been carrying on your shoulders while he took all the credit."
