ميراث الدم

Another cold dish, she thought as she sat at the dining table, staring sadly at the spread of dishes before her. he didn’t come to dinner again today, even though he promised he would. She turned her head gazing at the staircase, the image of her son crying himself to sleep for yet another night still fresh in her mind. This could not keep happening; if he wasn’t going to make it he could always send a text. She picked up her phone, opening her message app, the string of texts she sent to him dating back weeks unanswered, she sighed and tossed it away. Just as she did, there was a sound of the door opening. Her husband walked in his suit jacket in his hand, tie loosened and shirt unbuttoned at the top, she made note of his messy state staring at him silently.

“You’re still up?” He asked, sounding surprised, though he knew she’d still be waiting for him. He tossed back his brown hair now messy compared to how it was in the morning, “Something came up at work, and I had to stay in and help them out.”

“You couldn’t send a text?” She asked with weariness in her voice.

“I was swamped.” He replied shrugging indifferently.

“Swamped?” She repeated her voice rising, “How long would it take you to send your wife a text to cancel plans that you’d already promised you’d be around for? Or better still have one of your many assistants send it instead?”

“Don’t yell at me. It skipped my mind, that’s all. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“Overreacting? You missed dinner for the fifth time this week; your son went to sleep crying thinking that his daddy doesn’t love him. If anything Logan, I’m not reacting enough.” She said, following up the stairs to their bedroom.

“Don’t ignore me, Logan.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Marybeth. I was busy, I didn’t have time.”

“Then why did you make the promise to attend then? Why have you decided to disappoint your family over and over again?”

“I have to work. Don’t you get that? All this luxury,” He swung his arms wide, gesturing at everything in their room. “It doesn’t just happen. The company doesn’t just happen. I have to work to provide all the wonderful things you wear every day; your jewelry, clothes, our son’s education, and everything he enjoys.”

“See, I’d believe you. If I thought you were actually working.”

He paused, turning around menacingly to face her, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Ever since Christa came back you’ve been spending less and less time with us. Your son barely sees you, and I barely see you.”

“Are you accusing my relationship with Christa of being something more than what it is? I’ve told you that Christa is like a sister to me now, we may have dated in the past but things are different now.”

“Sister? What kind of man spends more time with his sister than with his own family?”

“Don’t pervert my relationship with her. Not everyone has a dirty mind like you.” He yelled and gathered his things, “I’ll be sleeping in the guestroom tonight. I can’t be around you when you’re this hysterical.” He said closing the door behind him with a small bang.

Marybeth collapsed onto the bed, tears streaming down her face freely. She thought back to her journey with Logan Renfry, the man whom she’d called her husband for five years. She’d loved this man for seven years of her life, meeting him when he was getting over his first love Christa. She thought if she kept at it, being all he needed, he would finally give her a chance, and it worked, didn’t it? She married him, bore him the beautiful five-year-old that was asleep in his bedroom, and things were perfect, or as perfect as things could be, when one was in love with a man who still yearned for another. Even on their wedding day, he’d told her that he would never love her as much as he loved Christa, and now she was supposed to believe nothing was going on between them? Did he think she was stupid?

She let out a sob as she curled up on the bed, falling asleep the same way her son did.

The next morning, she got down to the dining room to find the dishes from last night already cleared up, replaced with a breakfast spread. Her son, Christopher, was at the table eating with gusto, the incident of the night before long gone from his mind. Logan was also at the table, a cup of coffee in front of him that he sipped from periodically as he texted away on his phone. He glanced up at her, barely acknowledging her presence before returning his gaze to his phone. She joined them at the table, sitting beside Christopher, stroking his hair in greeting.

“Morning mama!” He called out to her giving her a wide grin. Her heart melted at the sight of him, although he looked like his father with the same brown hair and icy blue eyes, he did not adopt his father’s mannerisms as he always had a smile ready for his mother.

“Good morning my baby, how was your night?”

“It was okay. Daddy woke me up, he said he was sorry and he promised me a huge toy car.” He grinned, spreading his hands wide to show her how huge the car was supposed to be, “Right, Daddy?” He turned to his father in question.

Logan, who was grinning at his phone, answered absentmindedly, “Yeah, son, that’s right, the biggest car we can find.”

“Yay!” He exclaimed, “Mommy can come, then we can all go together.”

At that, Logan placed his phone in his jacket pocket, took a sip of his coffee, and said to his son, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, son.”

“It’s not? Why?” He asked tilting his head in childish curiosity.

“Mom’s not very smart.” She stared at him in shock, but he kept on talking, “She wouldn’t know much about cars, so let’s not bother her with this. That way we don’t bother her pretty head that’s only filled with pretty things.”

“Mommy’s not smart? But she always helps me with all my homework and I always get full marks.”

“Really?” Logan asked in surprise in his tone, “Well, that’s surprising to me. Hmm, since your mom is smart, I still say we go on our own, a father-son bonding trip.”

“Really? Yay!” He returned to his breakfast.

“Well, I have to get going now,” Logan said, getting up and reaching for his jacket on the table, but Marybeth grabbed it before he could.

“Let me walk you out.’ She said to him and together they walked to the entrance. She helped him put on his jacket, stepping up to his front once she was done, “’ Mommy’s not smart’? Why would you say that to our son?”

“It’s not like I was wrong, you contribute nothing to this family, you’re basically deadweight.”

“I am your wife and the mother of your son.”