Swim, Butterfly Chapter 27
Then, It Happens
The routine that bored me and drove me to trouble settles in again. Despite what I did, I'm back in the groove, like nothing changed. My days of suggesting things to do with Pete died long ago, and definitely aren't coming back. We've been talking a bit here and there, but we've got a long way to go, yet. If we decide to keep going at all.
I wash the dinner dishes, Pete watches Wheel of Fortune, Rudy plays with Legos in his room and June, dressed in plaid pajama pants and a neon green sweatshirt, corners me in the kitchen, "Mom, how do butterflies grow?"
"Not sure, June. They're a caterpillar, they eat leaves for a while, then they change."
"But how?"
"I don't know, June."
"But how do they go from caterpillar to butterfly?" June persists.
The heavy roasting pan I need to wash slips out of my hands, spilling greasy water all over the backsplash, some of which splatters back onto my shirt, "Shit! Damn it! June, I don't know! Go ask your father!"
Junes backs off, turns, and approaches Pete in the living room. She taps Pete's shoulder, "Dad? Daddy?" Pete turns his head a moment, seems to mumble something, then turns to the TV again. I watch all this, shaking my head. I'm about to say something when June takes one step back, then stamps her foot, "Dad!"
She stamps her foot and flaps her skinny arms until he looks at her.
Then, it happens--Pete turns off the TV. On his own. I hear him sigh, "Okay, honey, what you wanna ask?"
"How do butterflies grow?"
"Well," Pete runs his fingers through his hair, "first, an adult butterfly lays an egg on a leaf. It hatches into a caterpillar, which, after a while, becomes a pupa..."
"Pew-pa?"
"Yes, a pupa. It's, here, hold on, let's look it up on my phone."
Pete pats the arm of his chair for June to sit on, and she leans over to see his phone. And off they go. Pete and June discuss butterflies for forty minutes--lifecycles, species, and host plants while I sip a cup of decaf and eavesdrop from the kitchen.
June's glued to the seat, glued to the phone, asking a dozen questions and receiving answers or 'Let's find out'. Eventually she sits up straight and places her hand on Pete's shoulder, "Dad, let's plant a butterfly garden!"
Pete hesitates, glancing my way. I meet his look with my brows raised and nodding,
If you don't take this opportunity, Pete....
"Okay, June, sure. It's not too late to start a garden."
June screams and jumps up and down, then smothers Pete with a hug. He puts her arms around her, too. Even Rudy peeks out of his room to see what's going on.
***
Pete works like a man on fire in that wildflower garden, plotting and planning the space with June, and roping Rudy in with the promise of tomato plants and yard camping. I mean, how hard can that be? Pitch a cheap tent, throw down some blankets, and sleep! June complains that Rudy's tomatoes will take up too much space, but Pete appeases her by promising to plant marigolds among the tomatoes. Now, several times a week after school and work, June and Rudy pester him to work outside with them. Without me.
Pete and I have yet to face the future with any concrete terms. Maybe we're just lazy, maybe we realize that we never knew what the hell we were doing in the first place, so why fuck it up even more? At least we speak more frequently, usually at night after the kids are in bed.
He visits me again in my chamber one night. I watch and listen while he sits down, silent. Finally, he asks, "You know why I was truly mad at you?"
"Because I slept with another man?"
He waves hands briefly, "Yeah, well, no, I mean yes, but mostly I think I was mad because you found something that made you happy."
"It wasn't a good option to make me happy. Not that way, anyways." I confess.
"Doesn't matter. I mean, well, it does, but I believe you when you said you weren't out looking for someone. But you found something that made you happy and you went for it and that made me mad most of all because I was jealous."
