5. It’s Me. Gabe. I’m the Problem

FIVE

IT’S ME. GABE. I’M THE PROBLEM

GABE

W hen I arrive at the club, I note with satisfaction that the place is packed, even on a weekday.

I pause just inside, taking it all in—the way the dim lights play off the bottles behind the bar, the sweet licks of a jazz tune floating over the air, and the chatter of voices. Sometimes when I first enter, I still see the dusty, empty space that took months to transform.

Those were long days, sitting with Sasha as she pored over budgets and scribbled ideas in one of her many notebooks that she always carries around. It took a lot of blood, sweat (mine) and tears (hers) to make it happen but we did it.

The club is elegant but somehow still warm and welcoming. Sasha teaches private music lessons during the day and then the place transforms into a swinging jazz club in the evening. The air in here is bursting with the kind of creative energy that only music can bring. It’s everything Sasha said it would be.

But then again, I know firsthand that my wife is very good at getting exactly what she wants.

As I approach the bar, Ivy breaks into a wide smile. “Sasha told me you’d be here about now.” She slides a glass of something amber my way.

“Macallan?”

She makes a face. “Of course.”

“You know me well.”

“That I do,” she quips.

"It's a full house, huh?” I look around at the people swing dancing to the sultry sound of the band.

"I know, isn’t it great? Hold on, I’ll be right back.” She makes her way down the bar to help a guy at the other end.

While she’s helping the customer, I take a seat on one of the bar stools. Sasha should be ready to go but knowing her, she found something pressing that needed to be done five minutes before she was scheduled to leave.

The door opens and I do a double take as Zack walks in. He gives me a nod as he walks over.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” I hold out a hand and he grips it before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.

“Sasha said you’d be here.” He reaches into his jacket, producing an envelope.

"What's this?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Finn’s gift for Rissa. He decided to give her a boudoir session with Josie,” Zack explains. “He wants you to pass it along since you'll see him first."

I turn the envelope over in my hands, a smile tugging at my lips. "That's a great gift.”

"Yeah, I thought so too. Josie's excited about it," Zack adds. “She’s done a lot to build a reputation in boudoir. I’m so proud of her.”

“Can I buy you a drink? I have an in with the owner.” I nudge him in the side.

He laughs at that. “Don’t mind if I do.”

I lean in closer, lowering my voice. "What’s going on with Finn, anyway? He seemed kind of down last time we saw him. Remember when he said Rissa was avoiding him?"

Zack takes a seat on the bar stool next to me. “I’m not sure but I hope they’re okay.”

“I hope so, too. Because he is going to be devastated if she leaves him again. Tank said he was like a zombie the first time.”

Zack shakes his head in dismay. "The whole kid thing... it's harder on a marriage than anybody knows. Whether you have them or you're just trying."

His voice is heavy and reminds me that he understands this intimately. I wince internally wishing there was something I could say to make it better. People always assume Zack is the intense one of the two of us because of the tattoos, and the mohawk, but truly he is way more sensitive than people know. He has always spoken of their struggle to have kids in reference to how much Josie wants them but I suspect he wants them just as much.

Suddenly I’m grateful that Sasha asked to delay our announcement until she was further along. How is it fair that we got pregnant immediately, when my brother and his wife have been trying for years with no luck? It’s no one’s fault but that’s not how it feels. Hopefully by the time we tell everyone Zack will have some good news, too.

I take a quick sip of my drink, hoping to wash away the awkwardness.

Ivy appears then. She reaches over the bar, enveloping Zack in a quick hug. "Hey, Zack!"

He smiles. “Hey, Ivy. How's life treating you?"

"Busy as usual," she replies. "The assistant manager just moved to California so it’ll be crazy around here until we find a replacement."

“Oh, that’s right. I remember Sasha mentioned that.” I squint at Ivy as an idea takes root. “Hey, why aren’t you applying for the job?"

Ivy bites her lip. "I don't have any management experience."

"You should talk to Sasha. I think you'd be great at it and she can always train you."

She hesitates. "Do you really think so?"

"Absolutely. You know this place inside out. You're perfect for the job."

Not only has Ivy worked here for more than a year but because she’s Emma’s sister, we know we can trust her. Having her in management would take Sasha’s stress level down considerably. She’s been worried about who will run this place after she gives birth ever since we found out we were expecting.

Ivy gives me a little salute. “Okay, but if it doesn’t work out I’m blaming you.”

“Story of my life.” I wink as I slide off my stool. Sasha has finally appeared at the end of the bar, talking to one of the waitresses.

As the jazz band hits their final note, she finally notices me. Her eyes light up and she gives me a little wave before holding up a finger indicating that she needs another minute.

Ignoring her directive, I keep coming. If I ever listened when she claimed to need “one more minute” we would never leave this place.

I weave through the crowd, sidestepping a couple swaying a little too close to the edge of sobriety, and reach her just as the waitress walks off.

“Hey, Gabe!” she calls out over her shoulder.

“Hey!” I pause since I don’t remember her name.

“Dana,” Sasha whispers.

“Hey, Dana!” I yell out so she can hear me over the music.

Sasha snickers. “Nice save.”

My hand finds the small of her back, as the other slides down to cover the barely perceptible bump that we’ve managed to keep a secret for five months.

"Time to head home, love."

She nods, but turns back toward the hallway that hides her office. "I’m almost ready. I just need to finish one thing.”

"The place won’t fall apart without you. Ivy has got this under control.”

Sasha looks over at the bar where Ivy is currently helping several customers. “She has been a lifesaver ever since I hired her.”

“So let her take care of closing tonight. We need to get you off your feet and into some comfy clothes. Then I can feed you.”

She groans. “How am I supposed to say no to that? You are evil.”

I kiss the side of her forehead. “What I am is a concerned husband.” I lower my voice. “And father .”

Sasha glances around worriedly. “ Ssshh . Not so loud. The last thing I need is for someone to overhear. Then they’ll all be full of questions.”

“No one is around. I’m just saying. It’s not just about us anymore.”

With a sigh, she turns into my embrace. “You’re right. Let me just go tell Ivy that she’s on closing.”

As I watch her walk away, I can’t help feeling like I’m missing something important. Sasha seems unreasonably concerned with keeping her pregnancy a secret. I don’t get it. It’s not like there’s anything illicit going on here. We’re married. But with the way Sasha’s been acting lately, I would almost think she’s ashamed to be having a baby.

Immediately I dismiss the idea. This baby was planned. She was just as excited as I was when we found out she was pregnant. It’s only been recently that she’s become more and more anxious about whether we’ll be ready by the due date.

Sasha finished the nursery last month, has washed and folded a mountain of tiny clothes, and has read so many books that she’s an expert on everything from water births to baby-led weaning. There’s no way she thinks she isn’t ready to be a mother.

So that just leaves me. Maybe I’m the one she thinks isn’t ready.

I’m the problem.