Did I say that?
Rob and Celia are in the midst of moving to their new house, with help from Rob’s mother June, Celia’s mother Mary, and Lucy’s boyfriend Rocco. Rob just suggested that Celia start cleaning the apartment from which they are moving with his mother while he and the rest of the moving party go to the new house in the van, but Celia reminded him that she is on bed rest for the final weeks of her pregnancy. “Cleaning” is one of the things she specifically should not be doing.
Rob doubted the day would ever end, coming as it was at the end of a very long week. He had worked his regular job every day but Friday, painted the nursery, master bedroom and kitchen of the new house in the evenings (figuring the rest could wait until they moved in), and endured being overfed by not just one but two mothers. He worried constantly about Celia and the baby, making himself crazy by willing her NOT to go into labor too early, which was entirely out of his control of course, but he could not stop perseverating on it. Trying to move on the cheap – entirely on their own, with the help of their mothers and friends – might have been more than Rob could handle at this point.
His brain was so wound up, trying to manage every detail efficiently, that he found he simply could not tolerate Celia reclining on the sofa. Granted, she had lists and the phone and she had coordinated everything about the move that could be done either by email or phone, such as getting the utilities turned on at the new place and changing their address for the mail. I need Celia’s help, but she can’t help, he kept thinking. I need Celia’s help, but she can’t help. To have been reminded that Celia can’t even clean only reinforced how alone Rob felt, like Atlas with the world on his shoulders.
“Then just lay there on the sofa and tell my mother what to do,” Rob said to Celia.
Celia just looked at Rob for a long moment, as if replaying what he said to make sure she heard it right. “I can’t believe you just said that,” she said. Her eyes filled with tears and she got up as quickly as an eight-months-pregnant woman on bed rest could, heading into the bathroom and closing the door.
Rob glanced at their friend Rocco, waiting nearby to help Rob move the sofa on which Celia rested.
“Might want to backpedal on that comment, bro,” Rocco said. As big and scary looking as Rocco could be, there was nothing about him that was threatening. Rob knew he was right. “Listen,” Rocco continued. “First things first. You need to lighten up before you pop a blood vessel. It’s all going to get done.”
“I know, I know,” Rob said. He sighed, walked over to the bathroom door and knocked.
What does Rob say to Celia through the door?