The Sun and The Moon

Chapter Nine

I lay on Paul's bed, looking for shapes in his stucco ceiling. He lay beside me, and we listened in silence to Rachel's tantrum in the living room. I could feel how tense he was beside me, how much he wanted to do something.

"You can't change her," I said.

"What?" He snapped out of his imaginings.

"She has always and will always be that way, Paul. It's not your fault." I took his hand.

"I just feel like maybe if I'd shown a bigger appreciation for my mom, maybe Rachel would realize how much she does. Or if we helped less with Kelly. Or... there's a million little things." He sighed.

"None of them would make a difference." He rolled onto his stomach and I rubbed his back.

"I think you should move out of here. That would be the healthiest thing for you. They put too much on you," I said, soothingly.

"They need me, Ella."

"What about what you need?"

"They are my family. Family comes first."

"You won't be able to help them if you run yourself into the ground," I said.

"I'm not running myself into the ground," he denied.

"Paul... when is the last time you had eight hours sleep? You work full time, you take care of Marmee, and Kelly, you drive Rachel everywhere she wants to go, your always fixing this, building that, cleaning and doing everything for everyone! Put yourself first for once," I suggested.

"I wouldn't even know how," Paul mumbled.

"So do it for me. I want you to move out," I said.

"And go where? And do what? I'd still be back here every day. Who would watch Kelly? And Marmee can't be left alone," he said. He sat up, and put his head in his hands. I curled into myself. He was right. But I knew he needed a break.

"Maybe we can hire someone to come in, get a sitter or something?" I suggested. He just shook his head.

"Where is all the money coming from?" he wondered. That was how I ended up with Kelly after work most days. We spent a lot of time together, at the park, at the library, at the movies. My dad got a kick out of her too, and we spent time playing piano together. I'd bring her home, and Paul and I would make supper for his family, sometimes my dad would come or I would bring him a plate home. We got a nice little routine going, and things slowly fell back into an old comfort, an old pattern and an old, familiar but still exciting love.

At least, for a little while.

The nineth of July, Ginny gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She named her Irene and we visited in the hospital. Paul held my shoulders as I held Irene.

"Isn't she precious?" I whispered. Sam and Ginny smiled at each other, exhaustion on their faces masked by their obvious joy.

"Honestly, babies make me kind of nervous," Paul admitted.

"How did you deal with Kelly?" I asked.

"She was different. I was more nervous to leave Kelly with Rachel than to take her myself... Sam and Ginny, I know will be good parents."

"Don't worry, Paul. She won't be a baby forever," Ginny reassured him. We stayed until the nurses kicked us out, and before we left, Paul hugged Sam and kissed Ginny.

"You guys did a great job... She's perfect," he said.

"That was a sweet thing to say," I said, in the hallway. Paul took my hand and I leaned my head on his shoulder.

In August, I got sick. I had pnemonia and spent a week in bed. All I  did was play guitar ad watch movies. It was awful and boring, but Paul was so sweet. He took incredible care of me. I felt like a princess. In some ways, I never wanted to get better. I especially wouldn't have wanted to recover if I knew about the oncoming chaos, but of course, I was back to full health in no time.