The Second Child Is a Son

The second child its a husband.

No, it isnt a wife its a housekeeper, a cook dont get sidetracked.

At a gathering I mentioned Blythe actually, her husband.

Not a wife? A cook? Thats a twist!

Blythes face went ashen.

Even the guests didnt know Blythe. The men turned around, eager to see who had broken their chatter. They sat upright, looking as important as ministers at a cabinet meeting. What sort of friends were these that my wife knew nothing about?

Mark, slamming his chair back, sprang up and rushed to Blythe, trying to whisk her away from his pals eyes. His smug companions exchanged startled glances. A murmur drifted by: Whats he hurrying to say to the housekeeper? They snorted, halfsmiling.

Only the tall man in the farthest seat remained indifferent.

Housekeeper? Blythe whispered behind the closed door. Cook?

Its a bit undignified, in those ragged jeans, to imagine you as a wife, Mark said, as if Blythe should already understand, when we have respectable gentlemen here.

Just decent jeans, she replied.

The seams were frayed, but it didnt catch the eye.

Theyre decent for a workhorse, but the wife of a successful businessman cant look like a beggar! he snapped.

A successful businessman? Did you just spin a yarn? Where did you pull that from?

I was at the snooker club on Oxford Street today and beat the lot! All five of them! They were so impressed they offered me a dram of something strong. I asked about work and they said they could fund my carshowroom project. Investors!

All your investors are playing dominoes in the garage.

Today Blythe realised how Mark saw her as service. She wasnt a cook, but she kept the household running, the finances flowing. She brought in the cash and then vanished, as if hiding behind a baseboard.

She muttered about dominoes.

If you dont trust your husband, why get angry when he, too, doubts himself and does nothing? How can you build a career when your own wife treats you like nothing?

Later they agreed he would take her suits to the dry cleaners. Blythe favoured a classic wardrobe; she wore suits to important meetings and, on ordinary days, a pair of wornout jeans.

Did you take the suits?

No! When was I? I was trying to charm the investors

At the snooker club?

What, cant even relax any more?

When I handled the finances, you handled the home.

But I told you I needed time for hobbies and selfrealisation.

Youve got plenty of that! Theres no time for the home. I pay for cleaning, eat wherever, and you order sushi or pizza in the evenings! The domestic life you dreamed of never materialised. You wanted to play snooker from dawn till dusk!

Lower your voice, love, he muffled her, if the investors hear you, they wont see a profitable business.

Well never see profit; those investors will sleep tomorrow and forget your name.

God, how Blythe envied her colleagues who went to work to break the monotony of housewife life, earning their own money. They didnt stay late, didnt bring reports home to stare at charts through sleepless nights. Even with cuts looming, they chattered over tea and gossip, because if they were let go, their husbands often earning a few pennies more than the wives would still be there. Losing a job wasnt terrifying.

Blythe fled the prospect of redundancy like fire. She worked harder, faster, more productively, yet relief never came.

Mark sneered, You, dear, are a novice negotiator. Go ahead and laugh with your new friends about the careless cook who mixed everything up and forgot his suit from the cleaners.

Blythe stayed silent.

If she intervened, Mark would bring up divorce again.

They only thought about a child

Their flat was a brandnew development. Instead of the cramped stairwell of old tower blocks, there was a spacious lobby serving three apartments, a large sitting room with visitor chairs, and a balcony that opened onto the street. Blythe stepped onto that communal balcony.

I once had a wife, a voice called from above.

Blythe shrieked. Mark and his mates were too busy laughing to notice, so no one rushed to her.

The tall investor who hadnt smiled at the housekeepers situation loomed over her.

Are you hearing voices? And you think were having a lively debate? Blythe demanded, her fury flaring at his arrogance. Whats that about a wife when I never spoke to you? I dont care who was there.

He was unfazed.

I, too, had a wife.

Is that so?

She was a housewife, didnt work, and we had no children. I often ordered cleaning for her. The difference? She welcomed me with joy.

Im not a housewife.

No, Im not talking about you. Im talking about the man you mistakenly called a husband. In my family I made the money, built the business, while my wife tended the home and her hobbies. I never blamed her. I was on cloud nine, able to give her a life where she never wondered where the next loaf would come from. If my beloved had called me a servant in front of her friends, shed have become my ex in a heartbeat not on paper, but in my heart. You can forgive many things, but not contempt from someone youd give your life for. Yet my wife loved me.

What then tore you apart if you loved each other so?

A halfdrunk, halfwitless trader from the snooker club, the sort Mark had met there, piped up.

Blythes words didnt stir him toward divorce. He seemed to think you must walk in anothers shoes to understand. He slurred, Divorce over that? We were thinking about a child, and Blythe always dreamed of one Who else will be the father at thirtyseven?

A cancer. It split us.

Sorry

Its alright, Tessa. Never let anyone treat you without respect, not even a husband. Where theres no respect, theres no love.

Family therapist.

No, Im a programmer.

What did you lose in that merry band of investors and the bloke trying to wring money from them?

Im not poor; I could fund something myself, but I drifted with them for company. Home feels empty, barren. So when Im not working, I just wander. If Id known youd come, Id have stayed away and not let them in. Still, I dont regret meeting you. Youre charming.

You never introduced yourself.

James, he said, and with a wave of his hand he settled the raucous crowd and sent them home.

Tessa was right. The next morning, when Mark called his new investor friends, they couldnt even recall his name or what theyd drunk the night before.

No trace of disappointment.

Mark merely mimicked entrepreneurial dreams. He needed nothing. Working for someone else wasnt his style; he saw himself as a businessman, even if it was just a façade.

Dont answer, dont answer. Theyll chase after me later.

Mark, what about my maternity leave?

What?

If I go on leave, what will we live on?

Youll only be on leave briefly a month before the birth and three after. Then a nanny can take over.

You said okay when I suggested you either support the family or stay with the child.

I said okay, not promise. Where does the child go? Im no nanny. Youre the mother. Figure it out.

So youll get a job?

Well see

Any answers besides well see?

Blythe! Youve ruined my appetite this morning! Dont dump this baby on me. Itll happen, it will. Tomorrow well start working on it.

And they tried.

Blythe was pregnant.

She planned to find a nanny and work parttime, but then learned her firm was about to go bust.

The company is going under! Helen told her.

What does that mean?

It means in a month well all be jobless.

But Im pregnant You cant fire a pregnant woman.

If the firm collapses, how can you stay employed?

Blythe fell into a slump, stopped eating, avoided people, until a sliver of hope glimmered: perhaps Mark would finally become the man of the house.

Mark looked at his wife skeptically.

If I work, the money will be laughably small, far less than what you earned. I have a huge gap in my career, lost skills, and my education is patchy. Blythe, I cant shoulder that responsibility.

But I need time to find a job, and theres hardly any In a couple of months my belly will be visible.

How many weeks now?

Ten.

Ten, eh? Still time.

What do you mean?

On a tightrope! Dont even think about giving birth now. I called my mother; shes horrified at your carelessness. You cant go on maternity when you have so much on your plate. I cant work. Our parents expect us to help with the fence and the bills. They wont hand us pretty eyes. Mum says theres no talk of a child now. She still doesnt know you wont even go on leave, youll be unemployed. No, no, love. That route wont work.

But you also said it was time to become parents.

Thats because you gave me a hard time about the baby. When the child arrives, the whole blanket will be pulled over me. Am I supposed to become destitute because all our last funds go to the baby? Thats too heavy a burden. Be sensible and hurry. Get everything sorted in time, or else well be swamped with woes because of your child.

Blythe rushed to collect her things.

Her boss, the one whod warned her about the bankruptcy, was also packing.

So they sent you on a break?

Yes.

And what did they say?

We wont make it.

Wont you manage two kids?

I dont know about the job yet. I need to find something quickly to get maternity pay Or do as Mark wants. If I decide to have the baby, hell file for divorce. Hell leave me. How do I live without work and a child without a husband?

Without a husband who earns? Your logic is twisted. Surviving on benefits with a baby will be hard. With a husband who doesnt work? Even harder.

Well, he isnt working now, but if

Svetlana?

Then?

Nothing.

The disaster was already here. Blythe was pregnant and facing redundancy, yet Mark still refused to look for work.

She had to go to interviews.

She couldnt lie about the pregnancy if asked, but if they didnt ask

Determined, Blythe marched home, sent out résumés, and waited to see what came back.

Hello, housewives! the tall man joked.

Am I a housewife?

Mark claimed otherwise. That youre now unemployed.

Did you come to our flat?

No, I was heading up when I ran into Mark on the landing. He was hauling his own things, presumably to file for divorce.

Clearly Mark was fleeing a sinking ship.

Unemployed and abandoned, Blythe said.

Well, I can provide work if you like.

Mark didnt tell you Im pregnant?

He did. First his panic, then himself. How will that affect your skills? Ive heard of your tireless work ethic. I think youd fit a clean, lowstress role. Ill put in a word. Blythe, Ive always wanted a child. My wife never bore one I cant help her, but maybe I can help you. Come to my friends office tomorrow. Ill be there too, so you wont feel uneasy. I hope this isnt our last meeting.

And I hope so too.

***

Blythe gave birth to a daughter, then a son, then another son. The first daughter was technically a stepchild, yet James never drew a line between them. He never reminded Blythe of it.

What he did love to remind her of was the whole saga, as if the whole family had been a comedy of errors, with Blythe slipping away from him. Of course, it was all for James, who ended up richer