Blue Heaven

Part 6

16 February 1982

2:00pm Tuesday

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You were in the kitchen doing the washing up. Paul had been working outside, you could see him from the window. Rosemary was upstairs, down for her nap.

Paul had been mellow that morning, though not standoffish.

When he came in, you greeted him, but he seemed to be in a world of his own. He drifted past, walking up the stairs.

You didn't think much of it, and finished up, drying your hands. You didn't hear any sound, and was confused why he'd gone up.

You also went up. You poked your head into the bedroom, but it was empty. He must be in the nursery, as you didn't see a reason why he'd be in the third, empty room.

The nursery door was slightly open, though it was dark in there. You drew the curtains mostly during the day for her naps.

Paul was in the armchair. The baby hadn't woken up, he was holding her as she slept.

His expression seemed unreadable, his eyes lidded. He looked as if he were daydreaming, gazing down at her, though it didn't give you a good feeling.

He must have noticed you, standing in the doorway, the movement of the door and the light coming in. Paul was flighty, in any other case he would perk up, his deerlike expression, especially if taken from deep focus. In this instance, he remained still. It was impossible to not notice you enter, but he made no evidence of it.

You felt the tension. This added to the unease from his mood since the morning.

"What's wrong?" You said.

You didn't feel right using pet-names. You knew how he was. Paul could be moody now and then, even if nothing in particular brought it on.

There was nothing much you could do, you were tentative.

Paul was distant. He took a moment to speak. When he did, it was quiet, and low. Somewhat hostile.

"It's just one of those days." He muttered.

Maybe you should give him some space.

You nodded, looking to the side, down the hall.

You were about to leave, and let him be alone and brood, then Paul looked up at you.

It made you immediately uneasy. You didn't like it. It seemed like more than his usual spells of moodiness.

"____."

You stalled in your tracks. His voice was cold, saying your name that way, bitterly. It sounded like a statement, not said in an imploring way.

You knew he would get moody, but this time, it seemed the hostility was directed at you. It made you feel cold.

It didn't seem like he was trying to instigate a fight either. Like something was clouding him that he couldn't brush off, why he didn't just stay silent.

"What..." You said, voice hardly a whisper.

He spoke just as quiet, but loud enough to hear. He wanted you to hear, tone low and cold.

"Would you have kept me from her?" He said.

You were quiet.

You were at a loss. You didn't know what to say. You didn't know what brought this on, why he was asking this...

"What?" You said, faltering.

Paul took a moment. He tilted his head and gazed down at the sleeping baby, face unreadable.