Four in the Morning

The hour was four a.m., and Natalie got out of bed and went to the kitchen. She boiled water and made a cup of tea. She added some honey and a slice of lemon. As she sat at the kitchen table, Sam came in through the garage. He opened his eyes wide as though he hadn't expected to see his wife awake.

            "Why are you awake?" he asked, placing his keys on the counter, his face flushing with nervousness.

            "Why am I up?" she repeated. Sipping her tea, she tapped her foot and tried to stay calm.

            "I know I'm late, but..." he stumbled.

            "Where have you been?" She was sick of this routine.

            "I went to a bar. Had a few drinks. Why?" he said, as if that were a regular thing to do.

            "Since when do you go to bars in the middle of the night to drink, Sam?"

            "I just didn't want to come home and hear the twins crying," he said, lowering his head.

            "Well, no one expects you to feed them. That's why we have the nanny, Abigail."

            "I guess I hate hearing them howl."

            "What else have you been up to?"

            "Isn't that enough?"

            "Don't lie to me, you coward."

            He says, "Get off my back."

            "Get off your fuckin back?"

            "I'm tired."

            "We're all tired. Tell me the truth; you're lying, you lying bastard."

            "I..." he stopped and poured himself a glass of water. "I met someone. G-g-got to talking," he stammered. "We went to her place."

            He came over to her and tried to hug her.

            "Get away, you smell like some cheap perfume."

            For one minute, she wanted to slap his face, as her hand clenched and twitched.

            "I hate you. I really hate you." Her heart raced, and her voice grew louder. I feel trapped in a nightmare, a bad dream, a terrible movie.

            She rose from the kitchen chair and went to the liquor cabinet. She poured herself a scotch, neat.

            "Why are you drinking?" Sam asked

            "Shut up. You have no right to ask me why I do anything."

            They were both silent. Natalie picked up her drink and headed to the bedroom. He's lucky I'm too exhausted to do anything else right now. "Sleep in the spare room, on the couch, or on the floor. I don't care."

            He stood there, still in his trench coat, and said nothing.

            Natalie went to the master bedroom, hoping the twins would continue sleeping. They had been fed at two a.m., so she hoped for an hour of rest. She drank the tan liquid, praying it would help her fall asleep.

            As she curled underneath the covers, she softly said, "Mama, I miss you terribly. What am I supposed to do? Please guide me. Everything seems too much to handle. I am so unhappy, Mama. Please tell me." More tears, more pain, more suffering.

            She heard Sam's footsteps. He stood in the doorway, still wearing his trench coat.

            "I am so sorry, Nat." He looked tired, with a slight beard, worn out.

            "Go away. I don't want to talk to you."

            "Please," he began.

            "You've ruined everything. You've ruined our lives with your selfishness. We haven't even been married a year yet?"

            He stood silently in the doorway before finally leaving to find a place to sleep, at least until the twins woke up hungry.

            When they woke up crying, Abigail got out of bed, put on her white robe, and took Bobby while Natalie handled Beth. The nursery had two rocking chairs. They changed, fed, and burped the babies before returning them to their cribs. Natalie hoped they would stay quiet and waited a few minutes to see if they did.

            "I'm very tired," Natalie said.

            "Go back to bed. I'll stay up to make sure they're sleeping."

            "Thank you, Abigail."

            "I, um, heard you arguing with Sam before. Are you okay? Tomorrow will be a difficult day for you."

            "Thank you." 

            Natalie went back to the master bedroom. She noticed a bit of scotch left in the glass. She finished it, then got under the covers.

            She struggled to fall asleep but eventually dozed off, clutching the pillow to her chest. It was soft, and she enjoyed hugging it—a comforting gesture like a small child. It felt better than nothing.

            "Go to sleep," Natalie said to herself. "Please do it."

            The night was long; she tossed and turned. She was incredulous and shocked that her life had taken a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. All her dreams of the perfect, healthy family, where people talked, listened, and figured things out together, felt like a distant memory. The sun rose, and Natalie was exhausted. She didn't want to start the day, but she got up and made coffee. She wished she had a cigarette. She wished for many things, including turning back the clock.

            Sam stood in the entrance to the kitchen, and they stared at each other.

            "Do you mind if I have a cup of coffee?" he asked.

            She stepped away.

            He went to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup. The aroma of coffee was inviting.

            She thought it would be an unusually tough day. Maybe she'd get a massage or call the doctor for sleep pills. But then she remembered she needed to hear the babies, so she couldn't get pills. She considered hiring a good lawyer to understand what happened. To clear her mind, she decided to take a warm bath, knowing it often helped. Yes, that’s what she'd do.

            She hesitated before picking up the phone to call Judith and cancel their lunch. No, she decided to keep the plan and tell Judith what happened, hoping for good advice. Oh God, I am so exhausted. Maybe I could get a massage or have my hair cut—aren't those typical ways women try to feel better? Perhaps I should throw him out and tell him to stay in a hotel. As these thoughts overwhelmed her, she started crying again.