Shadowed Soul by John Spagnoli Page B

life in a dead end job.  Toying with giving it up and risking a search for something that I loved to work at frightened me.  I had always thought I would love to run a bookshop.  But I felt undeserving, like I should continue to suffer.  Plus, now that Jonathan was here, the responsibilities that yoked me to the job in the first place were more constrictive.  I was trapped forever in my personal hell, living a rerun of one of my mother’s soap opera melodramas. 
    “Grim reality.  Life does that though,” I told myself reinforcing my low expectations.
    Work blurred away with the time and I left twenty minutes late so Steve could not continue to fault my wanton heist.  Stopping by a push-cart vendor on the way, I went straight to see Beth, fruits and flowers in hand, elated to see her and tell her my decision to move to her parents’.
    Indecision is the worst.  Acceptance tipped the scales for me.  It was all for the best.  It would be cramped and I would still be paying rent for an unused apartment.  Ultimately, it was only slightly more expensive than paying for storage. The alternative, to stay alone in that apartment, would do me in.  I decided to sequester my decision until it was time for me to leave Dorothy and Pete’s, as a last-minute surprise for Beth.
    As soon as Beth opened the door I kissed her.
    “I’m so sorry, Beth,” I murmured.  “I was total a dick last night.” 
    “Flowers!” exclaimed Beth, and hugged me.  “Oh, and fresh fruit, too.  Thomas!”  We kissed for a long time as Bailey waited patiently for a pat.  I felt whole.
    Dinner conversation between all of us was light and easy with Jonathan at the fore. Absolutely no one risked a departure to ask me how I was.  And it never occurred to me to ask if anyone in the house was sleeping well despite the presence of a howling baby in need of frequent feeding and diaper changes.
    Jonathan sopped up most of our attention, and Bailey scavenged the remains.  Jonathan had seemed delighted to see me.  Pete and Dorothy, however, and worst of all Beth, acknowledged my presence but showed no especial interest in me as the evening wore on.
    “Can you believe, they didn’t even bother to ask you how your day was!?  You’ve got to be an infant in this house to get any attention, Thomas,” advised the Shadowed Soul.  I was invisible to them. 
    Pete held my son and droned on about how he and Dorothy had tag-teamed diaper changes throughout the night so Beth could heal. 
    “My conclusion,” said Dorothy sleepily, “…is that baby boys are smellier than baby girls.”  Dorothy cooed and clucked at the baby like a woman possessed.
    “Look mom, no hands,” laughed Beth smugly, sinking into the couch to luxuriate in doing absolutely nothing. 
    “The perfect wife and mother, Beth!” joked Pete.
    “I’m healing!” protested Beth and giggled.
    “Well, heal faster, already,” muttered the Shadowed Soul almost loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’d think she’d given birth to a miracle rather than a mewling child.”  I wiped his spittle from my ear.  No one even noticed my discomfort.
    “You hold him for a while, Thomas!” said Pete smiling broadly as he handed me the baby. “We could all use a break.”
    “For such a tiny creature, it’s amazing how much energy he absorbs from everyone,” remarked Beth, hands-free .  “I mean, look at us. We’re all pooped.”
    As I held Jonathan I looked into my son’s little face.  Studying his sleepy eyes and his happy, burbling mouth I observed indifferently that the Shadowed Soul and I together felt nothing for the infant.
    “The kid obviously thinks he deserves front and center,” admonished the Shadowed Soul.  “I don’t know about you, Thomas, but I’m not going to lavish him with attention.”
    Whether Jonathan sensed my disinterest was directed at him, I will never know, but he started to cry, tiny, irritated sobs that escalated into fully orchestrated