“I know it,” she said, gulping in some air. “We’re all just so run down, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” I said. “This schedule would make anyone lose it.”
It was true, how all the crappy food and sleep deprivation had affected us, and I wondered if that was the reason for our disharmony. Was it possible that we were just too tired to get along, too run down to be decent to each other?
Ash told me that she planned to leave Viv with her mom while we were gone. “I don’t want to be away from her for so many days, but it’s too much. I’ll lose my mind.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” I said, rubbing her back again. I had a moment of feeling hopeful, of believing there was a chance we could go back to normal when this was all done. But then she straightened up and wiped her eyes.
“It’ll be fine,” she said. And there was a sharpness to her voice, like she thought I’d tricked her into being honest, like I’d made her cry. She pulled a tiny pair of Viv’s pants tight as she folded them, stretching the material as far as it would go to make a crisp crease. “I just need to get everything organized for this week and it will be fine.”
—
The next morning, Matt and I carried our bags to the front hall and walked in on Jimmy and Ash having a fight. They were standing about two feet apart, glaring at each other, and Ash’s arms were folded across her chest. They weren’t talking, but it was clear they were mad. Ash’s mom was also standing there, just to the side of them, looking like she wanted to slip right back out the front door. When she saw us, she gave us an awkward little wave, but Ash and Jimmy didn’t even glance our way, and we paused for a moment, unsure what to do.
“Jimmy,” Ash said, breaking the silence. “I’m not going to pack up all of her gear and drag this poor child clear across Texas just so you can get a photo op with her. She needs stability.”
“She has stability,” Jimmy said.
“She doesn’t. She doesn’t get her naps at the right time when we travel, she doesn’t eat as well, she’s cranky and out of sorts for days when we get back.”
“She’s a baby. She’ll adjust.”
“Exactly. She’s a baby,” Ash said. They stared at each other for a few seconds without talking and I wondered if this was the time to sneak out, but we just stayed frozen where we were.
“You can’t just make these decisions without me,” Jimmy said, and I realized that Ash had never told him she wasn’t planning to take Viv, that he hadn’t known until Beverly showed up at the house.
“I can’t make these decisions without you? Why not? I do everything else without you. Do you know how hard it is to care for a baby out of a hotel room? No, you don’t, because I do it all.”
“You’re her mother,” Jimmy said. “Isn’t that your job?”
Ash turned then and walked up the stairs and Beverly followed quickly behind. Jimmy still hadn’t acknowledged us — honestly, it was like he didn’t see us — and he stood there, shaking his head. Finally, he said softly, “Jesus fucking Christ,” and went up the stairs after them.
I couldn’t believe what I’d just seen, the way that Jimmy talked to Ash in front of Beverly. I was also shocked that Ash hadn’t told Jimmy about her plans to leave Viv at home. While I knew the two of them weren’t exactly communicating in a great way these days, there was no chance it was an accident. She must’ve known he’d argue, that it would be easier to wait until the last second to deal with it.
We were still standing in the doorway, our bags at our feet, and Matt was looking down at his BlackBerry. I knew he was purposely not meeting my eyes, that he could feel me staring at him but was pretending he didn’t notice, and I felt anger rise in my throat. “Matt,” I said, sharply.
“What?” he asked, giving me a blank expression. It might have seemed like it wasn’t such a big deal, Matt’s refusal to look at me, but it was. We used to be a couple who could have whole conversations without speaking — just one look could’ve conveyed how we both felt about witnessing this fight, how uncomfortable it would make our trip. And now Matt was ignoring me, finding one more way to shut me out.
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, placing my bag by the door and walking out of the room.
“What?” he said, having the gall to sound surprised. “What did I do?”
—
By the time the four of us got in the car, no one was talking. I never got the full story of how the Viv situation was resolved, but Beverly left with her and we resumed getting ready for the trip. Jimmy loaded our bags as the rest of us did last-minute things, grabbed bottles of water and phone chargers, went to the bathroom one more time.
As we pulled out of the driveway, everyone was silent. Jimmy was driving, Matt sat shotgun, and Ash and I were in the second row. I wished that Viv were there, just so I’d have a reason to sit in the way back, to be as far away from everyone as possible. Ash wasn’t mad at me — or at least I didn’t think she was — but both of us were ignoring each other; she was looking at her phone and I stared out the window, imagining what would happen if I just jumped out of the car and ran back to the house. Would they even try to stop me? Would anyone be surprised?
We pulled onto the expressway, and I closed my eyes and said a makeshift prayer, asking whoever was listening to please let us make it through this week unscathed; or at least, no worse off than we were now.
—
It was Jimmy who spoke first, about an hour into the drive, when he asked if anyone was hungry and wanted to stop at Chick-fil-A. “I could eat,” Matt said, and Ash and I echoed him. Jimmy pulled off the expressway and went right to the drive-thru window. Usually, we only ate in the car if we were trying to get somewhere quickly, but I guess he knew we weren’t interested in sitting around a table and staring at each other. Jimmy placed the order and pulled up to the pickup window. None of us spoke as we waited. Once we got our order, Matt took charge and handed everyone their food, parceling out fries and milk shakes and chicken sandwiches.
The lunch put everyone in a better mood, like we were cranky toddlers who needed to be fed. Things seemed more normal as we ate — Matt started to go over the schedule with Jimmy, telling him about the potluck we’d be at that night, reminding him who would be there. Ash turned to me and started showing me pictures from Facebook on her phone. Some girl she’d disliked in college had gotten married the weekend before, and Ash was busy judging the wedding. “Do you believe her dress?” she asked, flicking her finger across the screen to show me the pictures, acting like we hadn’t just been sitting in silence for the past two hours.
But this moment of peace didn’t last: At the potluck in Galveston that night, Ash fawned over a baby and said to the mother, “Mine’s at home and I miss her so much I could burst.” Jimmy stood to the side smiling and said, “Then you shouldn’t have left her there.” In Austin, I mentioned something about going to the Salt Lick for lunch one day, and Matt said irritably, “This isn’t a vacation,” to which I replied, “No kidding.”
All of the events went smoothly, despite the friction between us. There was a subdued air around Jimmy, and while he still smiled and laughed, he was quieter and a little more serious. When he shook people’s hands, he’d just say, “Don’t forget to vote,” not bothering anymore to talk about turning Texas blue.
—
Our last stop was San Antonio, and we arrived just a few hours before the event. Ash and Jimmy dropped us off at the hotel and went shopping to get Jimmy a new button-down, since over the course of our trip, he’d spilled barbecue sauce on one shirt and gotten mustard on another at a picnic. “Sweet Lord, Jimmy,” Ash said. “You’re worse than Viv.” You could tell she was trying to make a joke out of it, but it came out sounding unfriendly.