Let It Go

“To convict you of assault they have to prove you’re a wizard, so you’re going to be fine.” Billie holds my shoulder and gaze with the intent of Medusa. “You just have to stop using your powers and they have nothing.” Her smile is my get out of jail free card. I look twice, worried it’s expired.

“I’m not sure I can. I’ve never gone this long without using them.” My voice shakes. I’m sweating. “What if they need to be let out? What if they overflow? I don’t want to hurt you or our daughter.”

“Tina will be fine. You won’t hurt her.” She turns her gaze to our angel. Snoring through a snotty nose with the sound of a kitten purring. Everything I’ve done in life has led me to her.

“You can’t know that. My power, the things it could do to her. I could wipe her mind clean. I love her. I can’t risk that.” My hands claw and clench. The thought of hurting my little chatterbox in any way makes my blood run cold.

“You’re not Elsa for fuck’s sake,” Billie whispers. “Stop watching Frozen. Let it go.” She pecks me on the cheek. It’s the most intimate moment we’ve had in a while. “Stop thinking of your power like a curse. It helped me.” She’s not reassuring me now. She’s angry. I’ve crossed a border in her head. Another invisible line. Her temper has been pinkie short since Tina was born.

“I’m going to bed, Xander. Stay up brooding if you want but you’ll be doing it alone.” There’s no winning once she’s angry. If I follow now I’m treading on her toes. If I wait she’ll be annoyed at me later. She picks up Tina, who acknowledges the transition with a turn of her tiny head, eyes closed. Tina drops into Billie’s shoulder, home and happy. I remember the feeling.

Photos of us line the walls. I see smiles she used to give me. Tina gets those now. Maybe I’m exaggerating but that’s how it feels. I’ve been replaced. I read that it’s normal for relationships to go downhill for a while after the birth of a child. None of them ever say how long it lasts. I’ve been in the dog house since Tina was born and sometimes I don’t want to come home at all. I know a lot of that’s in my head.

Cleaning keeps me busy. There are toys scattered everywhere. Billie has vague categories for them that I never get right. One box is labeled gross motor skills. Another is fine motor skills. One is Anpanman, filed with things from Japan and the weird cartoon Tina loves. The main character feeds bits of himself to others when they’re unhappy. Pointing out the cannibalism element is another way to piss Billie off.

When the toys are safely stored in the wrong boxes I sweep up the crumbs of Tina’s breakfast, lunch and dinner. A blueberry is mashed into the interlocking foam tiles that protect our baby from the wooden floor over the concrete beneath. I scrub out the fruit remembering days when my only problems were whether I could outsmart violent criminals long enough to take the memories that make them dangerous.

Now I’m a baker. Up at four in the morning, leave the house at five. Start at six. Finish at four. Home by five. It’s good exercise but it’s tedious. Bread, bread and more bread. Shifting boxes of frozen product all day is exhausting. I never knew what back pain was until now. Folding the bags for hundreds of loaves a day hurts my fingers.

I fold the dry washing that hangs from strings between rafters. Black trousers for work, faded knees. Any old T-shirt beneath my chef's whites. The company washes them at least. I need a raise or more hours. I was lucky to get an extra two a day. There’s no chance they’ll let me work sixty a week.

Billie needs to go back to work but that means we need daycare for Tina which might cost more than Billie makes anyway. Our little girl is happy. She’s talkative. I don’t want to ruin that. Spending a year with her mother has done wonders for her. I couldn’t ask for a better mother for my daughter. I look forward to some balance though. Maybe if Billie is working I can be the one Tina runs to half the time. Maybe Billie will know what it feels like when Tina wants to hug me not her.

All the clothes are folded away. I’ll be told I didn’t fold them properly in the morning. I crawl into bed next to my queen and princess. They’re both snoring. Tina has her feet to the edge of the bed. I push her towards Billie to squeeze in along the edge. I turn my back. At some point in the night Tina’s fists or feet will crash into my head. Better the back of my head than my face.

It’s cold. I’m tired. I’m lonely. Work tomorrow means I can at least talk while I shift boxes and bag bread. As long as I’m moving fast enough my workmate is happy. It’s sad to feel more appreciated there than at home. Billie’s just busy being the best mother ever. Tina smiles and talks more than any girl her age. The confusing bit is when she talks Japanese because she’s been spending so much time with Billie’s parents. When she wants something she points it out in Japanese and that’s going to take some getting used to.

I suggested running away to Tokyo where Billie still has family. She says it’s stupid to uproot our whole lives when the police can’t possibly arrest me. I wish I had her confidence in the incompetence of the police. I should. My father got away with murder for decades.

Why am I thinking about that? I need to sleep. Tina kicks me in the back then rolls over. Her head brushes mine as she sighs. Her hair is the softest I’ve ever known.

“Aishiteru yo bijin,” I whisper as I kiss her. Her arms open into a crucifix pose. I smell her apple scented shampoo as I fall asleep with Tina cradled in my arm.