But when I pushed the shower door open, quickly shrugged into my robe, and stepped into the hallway, it wasn’t Gerald standing there.
It was Robert, my father-in-law. He had been staying with us on and off lately, wanting extra time with his granddaughter, and now he stood there holding the second timer.
Gerald was three feet away, pale and stiff. Robert handed me a towel without a word. Then he turned to Gerald and said, very quietly, “Explain this.”
Gerald tried a laugh first. The nervous kind people use when they hope nonsense will pass as logic.
“Dad, it’s not what it looks like!”
“I saw you rushing to the main valve three mornings in a row, son,” Robert said. “Today I followed you.”
“I saw you rushing to the main valve three mornings in a row, son.”
Gerald swallowed. “We’re just trying to manage the baby’s routine.”
Robert held up the timer. “You taped this to the shower?”
“Jennie takes too long, Dad,” Gerald reasoned. “Maisie cries. I have work.”
“So your answer was to time your wife like a guest overstaying in a motel,” Robert retorted.
Gerald’s mouth opened, then closed.
“It’s been going on for days,” I said.
Robert’s expression softened just enough to break my heart a little. “Go rinse your hair in the guest bath. Take your time.”
“It’s been going on for days.”
Gerald stepped forward. “Dad, this isn’t necessary.”
Robert didn’t look at him. “Sit down.”
For the first time since Maisie was born, I saw someone in that house take my exhaustion seriously without asking me to defend it. When I closed the guest bathroom door, my hands were shaking so badly that I had to grip the sink.
