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    The Kiss I Ran From
    The Kiss I Ran From
    The Kiss I Ran From
    Ebook45 pages45 minutes

    The Kiss I Ran From

    By Peter 9 Bowman

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Felice and Peter bring three-day old Michael home from the hospital and go from being a couple to a family. At work Peter goes from creative computer geek to senior executive. Can romance survive? This is a true story and the third installment of Peter’s journey to happiness with the women he meets along the way.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPeter 9 Bowman
    Release dateJan 17, 2016
    ISBN9781311897381
    The Kiss I Ran From
    Author

    Peter 9 Bowman

    Peter 9 Bowman is an author previously published under another nom de plume who lives and writes from a six acre mountainside homestead in New Hampshire that he and his wife maintain for the benefit of their chickens, ducks, dogs, cats, and ghosts of bunnies dispatched by predators unknown. He has spent a career homesteading on the digital frontier, having founded several technology ventures, and now chops firewood to heat his modest hundred year old farm house. He'd be happy to hear from you at peter9bowman@gmail.com .

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      Book preview

      The Kiss I Ran From - Peter 9 Bowman

      The Kiss I Ran From

      ©2016 Peter 9 Bowman

      Felice and I bring three-day old Michael home from the hospital and go from being a couple to a family. It’s not at all what I expect.

      After only one night it’s obvious our little studio apartment will never do. Michael’s clefts make it so hard for him to eat that he falls asleep exhausted after just an ounce or two of formula. That means feedings every two hours round the clock. Even though I take the nighttime feedings to give Felice a break, a baby screaming just six feet away at the resonant frequency of our skulls makes sure neither of us gets any sleep.

      I tell the nice, elderly, building manager who rented us our studio apartment we need a one-bedroom unit.

      She says in a stern, not so nice voice, I can put you on a list, but we don’t move people around in the middle of their leases. You still have eight months on yours.

      We won’t live that long. We just brought our baby home and he has the lungs of Zeus. Neither of us is getting any sleep. It’s a large building with hundreds of apartments. Surely something must be available.

      Her tone changes. A baby already – isn’t that wonderful! She looks in a ledger and flips a few pages. Let’s take a walk, dearie.

      She shows me a one-bedroom unit on the seventh floor. It’s roughly double the size of our current studio. It looks tired, worn, dirty – but it has a separate bedroom with a door that closes.

      This apartment was rented by Joe E. Brown’s brother, rest his soul. It just became available. There are eight people on the waiting list, but didn’t you ask about a one-bedroom unit when we first met? Of course you did, dearie. I can have it ready for occupancy in two days – new carpet, paint, appliances.

      Where do I sign?

      I show the apartment to Felice and we sign the new lease. Two days later we’ve moved into our new apartment. We put Michael’s crib in the bedroom and set up the rest of our furniture in the living room. On our first night, lying in bed, we hear the sounds of the city after dark – two drunks arguing, a gunshot in the distance, trash cans being dragged across the sidewalk. In our sixteenth floor studio we felt safe. We were above the violence down below. Now, only seven stories in the air, it feels as if a nighttime crazy might send a stray bullet through our window at any moment, a thief might scale the fifty feet from the roof of the parking garage below and come right into our apartment. I know the chances of a seventh story break-in are pretty remote, but the feeling of risk is there nonetheless.

      Even with our new apartment and me taking nighttime feedings, Felice is looking more frazzled every day. We have an apartment in one of the nicest buildings in Manhattan right across from Central Park. This is supposed to be fun – at least I want it to be. Where did the graceful, beautiful woman I married go? I’m getting worried.

      The downside of me taking night feedings is that I’m suffering from sleep deprivation. I stagger into work in a fog. More than once I fall asleep at my desk. It finally occurs to me that Michael isn’t just a crash project demanding all-nighters for a week or two. This project will go on for decades.

      Felice doesn’t complain, but the stress is obviously taking its toll. Not only are we not making out like we did

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