Night, Forgotten

Original Edition - Chapter 9: Then

There was less than an hour before the Dolans' Christmas party when Owen found me standing naked in the middle of our bedroom.

"What are you doing?" He asked with a chuckle embedded in his voice. It sounded warm, and suddenly the air felt starkly cold against my damp skin. "Getting dressed?" He came up behind me and placed his hands on my bare hips.

I looked down at the pair of stockings twisted into a knot between my hands. "I just got out of the shower and I couldn't decide whether to wear stockings tonight."

"Stockings or no stockings?! What a conundrum!" He kissed my ear, spun around, and landed heavily on the bed. "I vote yes, wear the stockings, because it's supposed to be freezing out there."

"But won't that look too formal? It's just going to be the landscaping team and their wives, I think. And maybe some of their other friends. I don't know. I could wear pants, I guess." I hadn't moved from where I was standing.

"What about that sexy little number you found on markdown last summer?" Owen propped himself up on his elbows, still acting silly. "The gold one, that we said would be perfect for a holiday party just like this?"

I remained fixed in place, tightening my grip on the stockings. The description on the cardboard box they came in read "nude," but they would make my legs appear a shade or two lighter than my actually nude arms. I tried to imagine stretching the gauzy nylon fabric over my legs, which were still damp from the shower, and cringed.

The bed creaked. I realized that I hadn't even answered Owen. "Hey, come over here." He patted the space beside him and held a bath towel open between his arms invitingly.

I took a step in his direction, released the air I'd been gripping in my lungs, and then continued the rest of the way to the bed. I let him wrap me up in the towel snugly.

"In together," he said, performing a simple exercise that always helped me get my shit together when I started spiraling. He took a deep, slow breath in and waited until I matched it.

Then, with his lungs full, he mouthed, "Out together," and started releasing the air slowly through pursed lips.

I followed his example and felt my heart rate slow down a bit. "Sorry I'm so nervous," I said.

"It's okay," he said, and for a moment I was deeply disappointed that he hadn't told me I had nothing to be sorry for.

He continued. "I think this has to do with the fact that aside from the third bedroom — the nursery — the house is basically finished. You've been in charge of the construction around here, and now the back porch is all wrapped up, too. So maybe you'll have a better handle on your anxiety when you have something new to focus on."

My disappointment seemed to freeze and become brittle. "What are you saying?" He'd better not be gearing up to launch into his parenthood spiel yet again.

Luckily, he had something besides my fertility on his mind. "I just meant that the nursery is the only room left to fix up, right? And it's been a couple of weeks since you finished work on the porch. You're getting restless without a project."

"Well, that's a nice way to describe it. All this time I've been calling it social anxiety," I retorted, feeling some of the tension evaporate from my body.

"Right?" Owen pressed on, pulling the bath towel more tightly around my shoulders. "It's a good time to get started with the nursery, and maybe Eddie or one of the other guys at the party tonight would hook you up with a discount on materials again."

I sighed heavily. The party. "Maybe you're right."

"I am right." Owen turned his face upward toward mine. "The wraparound porch came out so well, by the way. Your design was perfect." He smiled mischievously as he tucked his fingers under the towel. "You're so attentive to details, Babe."