"Come on honey." Sam brushed my shoulder as she passed me. I was sitting at my kitchen table staring uninterested into my plate of food.

"The guests are gonna be here soon." Samantha reasoned with me on her return into the kitchen.

I nodded without looking at her. I only remained focused on the task at hand; forcing myself to eat. If it had been up to me, I wouldn't even be trying. Sam insisted though that I give eating a try. At least for Ami's birthday. I agreed to help her out, and eat. She had set the plate of eggs in front of me at seven thirty-two. I hadn't taken but two small bites and the time was now eleven forty-seven. I felt absolutely no desire to shovel food into myself. Every bite was nauseating, like the feeling of eating after you've stuffed yourself. I watched my plate and tried forcing myself to pick up the spoon and take in one mouthful. I ignored my brain's request.

Samantha was rushing around the house preparing for the party that was due to start at noon.

She had commanded that I was not allowed to get up from the table until I had eaten all of the eggs. She had resorted to treating me like a child to get me to respond. I took one more courageous bite. I gagged and took my time chewing so that I wouldn't throw up.

Samantha pulled a chair out beside me.

"Mick what's wrong?" She asked intently.

I rested my head on my hand and piddled with my food.

"I'm just not hungry." I said with a fake smile.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I smiled wider.

"Are you pretending to not be hungry?" She asked me.

"What?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"Are you not eating because you don't want to help me with the party?" She asked seriously.

"No! Why would you think that?" I inquired.

"Okay, that's just how it seems." She sighed.

"Sam, I'm just not hungry." I reassured her.

My wife stood and half rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I'm sure that's it." She walked away without another word. She was mad at me. She didn't believe me! She thought I didn't want to help. That I was just faking. I fell in love with her because of her imagination, but her wild way of thinking things that are not true, was getting old fast.

When did we drift apart? I couldn't pinpoint the moment when she stopped believing me. It was a slow fade that baffled me. Like watching your child grow up. You don't notice they're growing until one day it slaps you in the face.

I buried my face in my hands and let out a long deep breath. I made a resolve to scarf down the remaining eggs, and help her for the rest of the day, without complaint. I took my spoon and breathed an even deeper breath. And then I scooped up a mound of eggs and shoveled them into my mouth. I gagged and in response stuffed in a second spoonful. I chewed and tried hard to swallow. I had to give myself a moment before stuffing in the next two spoonfuls. I repeated this four times before the plate was cleared. I sat with my head low and my stomach churning. I felt like at any moment I might explode.

Sam rushed back into the kitchen and glanced at my plate.

"I'm through." I sighed.

"I can see." She said curtly.

"What now!?" I complained. "I ate the food!"

"You told me you weren't hungry, but you ate all of your food in less than five minutes." She complained.

I scowled. "So you still think I was lying?"

Samantha rushed back out of the room after retrieving whatever she had come in for, with a sour look on her face. I was angry with her. Why was she being like this? Couldn't she see I was only trying to please her? I clinched my fists and in built up anger I chucked my spoon at the wall across from me as hard as I could.

Tears filled my eyes as I laid my head on my folded arms. I'm not sure how long I sat there crying, but when I heard the doorbell ring I sat up and dried my tears. It was time to act right. I had to put up my façade of happiness and play like everything was okay inside. I hated this part.

I stood up and walked to the front door. I opened it and Mike and Davy, Davy's wife, Mike's son Christian, and a girl I didn't recognize were standing on the other side.

I greeted them with warm hellos and motioned for them to enter my house. I shook hands with Mike, Davy, and Davy's wife as they entered. Mike took the stranger's hand and led her inside.

"Hey, Mick, This is my girlfriend Julie." Mike introduced us.

I shook hands with the kind looking girl. "Welcome Julie. Thanks for coming."

Little Christian came in last. His hand were shoved in his pockets and he wasn't paying much attention to what was going on. I ruffled his hair as he passed me. He smiled at me and lunged forward to hug me.

"I missed you bud!" I laughed.

"I miss you too, Uncle Micky." Christian said with his four year old lisp.

"Chris?" Mike called from the living room.

"Coming!" Christian ran away from me and into the other room.

More guests had arrived and were flowing into my home. Sam's parents were the next to arrive, and then Peter (without his wife and daughter), last to arrive were my mother and sister.

"Coco!" I greeted my sister enthusiastically.

"Micky!" She chuckled in that joyful little sister way.

She hugged me tight around the waist and then stepped to the side so that my mother could enter. My mom took my face in her hands and examined me.

"You're looking thin. Have you been eating?" She asked me.

"Mom—" I rolled my eyes.

"Ma of course he's eating! This is Micky we're talking about!" Coco covered for me.

As she directed my mother into the next room I mouthed the words 'thank you' to her. She only shrugged.

I closed the front door behind them and joined my family and friend in the living room. Sam had gone all out for Ami's birthday. There were streamers and party favors everywhere.

Everyone had seemed to be happy when I heard their chattering at the doorway. But as I became aware of the words being said I noticed a mood change. Davy and Mike were scuffling over something Davy had said about Mike's new girlfriend. Peter had reeked of Marijuana and beer as he entered the house, and this had angered Samantha's father. He was a very clean man, and he hated drug and alcohol use. He was raving to my friend that he shouldn't have come to a party for a young girl smelling like pot. I agree, but this was what Peter had always smelled like, so I never paid it any attention. Sam was talking with Davy's wife and her mother in a whisper. They all frowned at me as I entered the room. The only people who didn't sound angry were my mother and sister who had only just arrived and Julie and Christian who were playing on the floor. My mother had walked over towards Samantha and her little group to pick up Ami who was playing with Christian and Julie.

But she froze in her tracks.

"What did you just say about my son?" She asked my mother in law.

Sam turned in shock that my mother had overheard.

Samantha's mother straightened up. "I said, he's a no-account father and husband. That's what I said." I hung my head low and slid down the door frame, to the floor.

"My son is a great father and an excellent husband." My mother defended me.

"I and my daughter would beg to differ." My mother in law scoffed. "I guess you can't expect much from Hollywood trash."

My mother closed her eyes and calmed herself before answering politely. "You're the ones who let your daughter out with my Hollywood trash." My mother turned away from them and picked up my daughter.

I had sat just inside the doorway. I was analyzing each heated discussion and trying to keep from breaking into a million pieces.

Mike stormed out with his girlfriend and son in tow after he had had enough. Peter's high was waning and he began to retaliate at the jabs made by Sam's father.

"This is an utter disgrace!" Her father yelled as he stood to his feet. "Jane, we're leaving!" He took my mother in law by the arm and directed her out of doors. Samantha followed them and I supposed she drove home with them.

And so the party number was reduced by half. My sister, mother, Peter, Davy, his wife, and I came together without another cross word and together threw my daughter a happy birthday. My mother found the cake Sam had made in the fridge and brought it out to us. She lit the giant candle on top and started us all in singing, foe she's a jolly good fellow.

The day was far from happy, and nothing close to what I wanted it to be for Ami. But it was close. Close enough.

After Peter, Davy, and his wife, and my mother had gone, Coco stayed behind and helped me clean up.

As we washed the dishes we had used for cake my sister interrogated me.

"So what's going on?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Coco laughed nervously. "I think you know. What's up with you and Sam?"

"Uh...nothing." I lied, with a smile.

"Micky, come on. I'm your sister. I know something's up." She pushed.

"I sighed and searched her eyes to make sure I couldtrust her. And then finally I let it all go. "She's mad because I didn't helpher set up today. But she told me I had to eat and I couldn't get up until I finished my eggs and I couldn't finish them because I wasn't hungry. And now she's mad."

"Why weren't you hungry?" She asked warily.

"Coco sit down." I pulled out a chair for her and myself. "I'm depressed again." I said in a whisper.

"How long have you been depressed?"

"A month." I revealed to her.

"A month?! That's a long time Micky."

"I know." I groaned into my hands. I told her how I felt about everything. About the guys, about my family. I told her about not eating and about not sleeping. I told her every thought that had slipped into my mind.

"And Coco," I said in tears. "I have even thought about suicide."

"Suicide? Micky this is serious." She said concerned.

"I know, but it was only once. Please don't tell anyone though. Please!" I begged.

Coco waited a long time before nodding and mouthing the word, okay. She too was beginning to cry. I drew her in for a long hug. She squeezed me tight and whispered a prayer into me.

'Father God, please help him,' was her prayer for me. I held her tighter and when she let go of me I realized that my burden felt as if it had lifted. Not gone completely, but lessened. Almost bearable. Almost.

I waved to her as she drove away in her junky old Pontiac. When she was gone I fully let go of my façade and freely displayed my unhappiness. I joined Ami on the living room floor with her toddler toys.

"At least my family loves me." I whispered. "Do you love me?" I asked and tickled her chubby cheek. Ami smiled and giggled.

"I think you do love me." I resolved.

Ami answered by handing me her favorite blue ball and motioning to me that she wanted to play catch. I smiled a genuine smile for my baby and tossed her the little blue ball.

te=M~F .