Becoming (INSECURE SEQUEL)

12:

CATALINA

"I have to tell you something." I speak quickly as soon as Ashton is standing in front of me.

"I got something for you." He says just as fast as I'm talking.

"I hope you have your receipt because you might want to return it after I tell you this."

He furrows his eyebrows and takes a step back. I can see as he slides whatever he was going to take out of his pockets right back in them. I try to smile and clear my throat before I speak. I hadn't thought of a way to break the news.

How do you tell your husband that you invited a child to live in your house? There are so many topics to cover. Like: where did you get the child?  How old is it? Can the child be returned? How long are they staying? Will they be depending on you financially?. I don't have the answers to those questions. I hadn't thought about any of that when I irrationally invited her to stay. Despite my uncertainties, one thing remains clear: I do want her to stay.

"Do I want to know?" He asks slowly, confusion clear on his face.

"I think so." I nod my head.

"No, like really. If--you know-- you cheated on me or something, I don't want to know. Ignorance is a bliss and I see what they meant when--"

"There's a little girl in the spare bedroom." I blurt out to stop his rant.

Ashton stops speaking and purses his lips. "A real one? Uhm...okay?" He takes a long pause as he tries to make it make sense in his mind. "What do you mean?"

"Soooo..." I start to speak, still forcing a calm smile like everything is normal. "When I was picking Catarina up for dinner, we were leaving the school and guess what I see? A little girl in pajamas going to sleep in the storage closet. That's insane right? She's ten! She shouldn't be homeless and she shouldn't be running away from people horrible enough to make her want to be homeless. So.... I invited her to dinner and then I sort of, kind of invited her to stay with us." I let out the last part quietly and quickly.

His face still reads confusion, but a little less of it as his eyes soften. "That sounds horrible. Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's upstairs."

"Well, I know you want to help, but are you sure everything is all good? You have to talk to her."

"Yes, I know--"

"because how do you know she's not just a rebellious runaway with parents who genuinely care for her and may be looking for her? You should know the story before you decide she's going to live with us." He calmly explains, but it sounds like he's scolding me.

I try not to frown because he's right and his points are valid. Just because he loves me doesn't mean he had to agree with every crazy, impulsive thing I do; except, this doesn't feel crazy and impulsive. It feels like the right thing to do. I know that there are things I haven't thought through, but how can doing the right thing go wrong?

"Are you mad?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I just think you should probably consider all the reasonable options. In a timely manner."

"Are you scolding me?" I make a befuddled face.

"What? No."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not. Even if I was, I can do whatever I want. Stop being a bully."

I gasp loudly. "I am not a bully!"

"Yeah you are, and you're mean."

My jaw drops and I stare at him. Why is he attacking me? All I did was give a child who is in need the help that they undoubtedly deserve. Now is not the time to have the conversation about how he thinks I'm 'mean'--which I am not. I try very hard not to be at least, and I really am trying my best. Being "mean" is my defense mechanism; it's the only thing that made me feel safe. My whole life, the only way to stop myself from seeming weak was to make other people think I was unkind.