Queen Bee

December 2003 (1)

Waking up at 4am on Christmas morning, I headed downstairs to go and make myself some coffee and just have some alone time while I waited for everyone else to wake up. I have no idea what the hell could have woken me up this early, but as soon as I was I knew I couldn't go back to sleep. I felt too restless for some reason. Like my body was on edge, preparing me for something... But I didn't know what.

Throwing the already grounded beans into the coffee maker, I added some water and pressed the brew button. As I got out the first coffee mug I could find, I waited patiently, listening to the sound of the warm liquid slowly drip into the pot.

As my eyes defocused I began to allow my mind to wander. What the fuck is my deal right now? Why do I feel so anxious all of a sudden? I was fine yesterday. I was fine the day before that. What the hell is going on with me?

Five minutes later, the coffee maker beeped, and my eyes immediately refocused onto it. Grabbing my mug, I poured the liquid into it until it was almost completely full. As I put the pot back into the holder, I headed out into the living room where I threw the fire place on, and just kinda chose to sit and do nothing. No TV, no music, no kids, no Marshall, just me and my overthinking brain staring at the lit up Christmas tree. Is that why I feel so weird? 'Cause it's Christmas? But that doesn't make any fuckin' sense, I was fine last Christmas, and the one before it too!

Sipping the bitter tasting drink, I continued on with my one person stare contest for another half an hour or so until I eventually heard tiny footsteps start to come down the stairs. "Mama?" Des asked from behind me.

Cranking my head, I saw him carefully take each step one at a time as he hung onto the poles of the bannister for dear life. "Hey baby, what're ya doin' up?"

"Can't sweep." He stated, finally reaching the last step as he began to make his way towards me on the couch.

Chuckling to myself, I placed my coffee down on the side table and leaned forward to pick him up. "Why? Too excited for presents?" I asked, placing him down on my lap as my arms were secured around him.

"Yeah, but I feel sad." He said, looking up at me with the most innocent eyes I've ever seen on another human.

"What? How come?"

He shrugged dramatically. "I don't know."

"Did somethin' happen? You have a bad dream?"

He shook his head. "No."

I nodded in understanding. "You just feel sad today?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah." I nodded again. "Me too, baby."

Yawning, he placed his head down on my chest and closed his eyes for a moment as a small stint of silence fell upon us. "Mommy?"

"Hm?" I hummed questioning, running my hand over his hair.

"Daddy yells a lot."

My brows furrowed. "What'dya mean? He ain't yell at you, does he?"

"No. He yells at you, mommy."

Within an instant, I felt as my entire heart broke into two and both pieces quickly sunk downwards to my stomach. Swallowing down the hard lump in my throat, I knew I couldn't cry in front of him. "Well I yell at daddy too, sometimes."

"Yeah, but daddy's louder." He trailed off for a moment as I tried my best to collect myself. "And I don't like to sleep when daddy yells."

I nodded slowly. "How come, baby?"

"It's too noisy. Sometimes it scares me."

"Did you hear last night?" I asked weakly. I wonder if thats where this is coming from? I know me and Marshall got into it pretty bad before we went to bed... But none of the kids have ever said anything like this to me before? Except I know Nate knows, since he usually stays up pretty late, but still. I don't know why I thought they didn't know... Why I thought they couldn't hear us, but of course they can. I'm an idiot for thinking otherwise.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Is it because of me?"

My eyes flew wide open as I readjusted him to look at me. "No, baby! Never! Never ever ever ever! Me and daddy love you so much, okay? It's never 'bout any of you. Not Lainey, not Hai, not Stevie, not Nate, none of you! Me and daddy just fight sometimes, but it never has anything to do with any one of you. I promise."

He nodded again. "Otay."

"But I'm so sorry that ya hearin' stuff you're not supposed to. I'm gonna talk to daddy, and you wont hear any more of it, okay?"

"You'll stop yelling?"

"Yeah, we wont yell anymore, I swear."

"Otay. Tank you, mommy."

"You're so welcome baby." Leaving a hard kiss on the top of his head, I hugged him tightly. "And please come tell me if we ever do anything to scare you again, okay? We'll never be mad at you, baby. I promise."

He nodded once more. "Otay. I will."

"Thank you." Engulfing him in another big hug, I refused to let him go for probably five minutes or more. I just felt so fucking guilty and like the worst parent to ever exist, I couldn't help it. I needed him to know how loved and cherished he was, and how none of mine and Marshall's issues are because of him. I did wonder though, when he gets older and starts to ask more questions, what in the fuck am I supposed to say? Daddy's the worlds biggest pill popper and that's what we fight about all the time? I could never tell him that. As much as I hate Marshall somedays, I love him to fucking death at the same time and I would never wanna say anything to ruin Des' perception of him. That's his daddy. And Des is his son. I want them to have the best relationship possible, but if Des is already seeing Marshall as the problem, how can they ever have a good relationship? If we don't fix this now, Des will never look at Marshall the way he should, and that hurts me more than Marshall ever fuckin' could.

After we just sat there together for another hour or so, me refusing to let him out of my clutches once, it definitely did help to calm down the anxiety I once felt. No matter what happens with me and Marshall, I know I always have my baby, and that's truly all I could ever need to be happy. But Des also needs to be happy. And if I can't figure things out with Marshall soon... No, I don't even wanna think about that. I can still help him. I'm still fighting for him, for us, for our baby. But what if in the mean time, my fight for Marshall causes Des more harm than good? Even if Marshall does get better? By that point is the damage irreversible? Maybe. But where's the line, Angel? Is there a line? When is enough, enough? I think if we ever hit it, I'll know. But I also don't think we've reached it yet, because as long as there's still fight in me, then we haven't reached it. At least not for me... But is Des' line the same as mine? I don't think so. The lines have to be different because of who Marshall is to both of us individually.

To me, he's the absolute love of my fucking life. Our passion for one another runs so fucking wild and deep that I think there might only be a few other people on this planet who knows what we feel for each other. But to Des, that's just his dad. And I'm just his mom. The love Des has for us is so incredibly different than the love me and Marshall share, so in his brain, all he sees is us fighting. Daddy yelling at mommy. Mommy yelling at daddy. He doesn't understand the craze, the infatuation, the desire behind our fights. And because he doesn't understand that, it's hurting him. Fuck, it's hurting me but yet I'm still the one refusing to let go. Marshall's refusing to let go. But it's not about us and what we want anymore... There's tiny humans involved now. We're acting reckless as if it's still just us, only each other we have to hurt. But that's not the case. So if we can't figure it out now... We have to end it completely.