The Anti-Boyfriend

by Ward, Penelope

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, after Sunny and I had returned home, there was a knock at the door.

  Peeking through the hole, I smiled. Deacon stood there with two Starbucks cups in his hands. Lately, he hadn’t even been texting me before coffee runs. He’d just proactively get me a latte if he happened to be passing by.

  “You’re my favorite person right now,” I said, reaching for the coffee. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I needed this.”

  His eyes went wide as he looked me up and down. “Look at you. You look great.”

  I was still wearing my black sheath dress from the interview. My hair was down and styled into loose curls. This was definitely the most dressed up Deacon had ever seen me.

  “I do clean up nice when I have to.”

  “Where did you go?”

  I didn’t immediately answer, instead walking over to grab my wallet, though I knew he would once again refuse my money.

  Deacon held out his palm. “Stop. I won’t take it.”

  “Why are you paying for my coffee again?”

  “Because you didn’t ask for it. I chose to get it. Now drink it and put away the money.”

  “You spoil me, Deacon. And given that I have no income, it’s most appreciated.” I took a sip then smiled. “But that may be changing soon,” I added in a song-songy voice.

  He perked up. “You got a job?”

  “Not yet. But that’s why I’m dressed up. I had an interview today.”

  “No shit? What’s the position?”

  “It’s a PR gig at a different ballet company than the one I used to work for.”

  He beamed. “That’s fantastic. That’d be perfect for you.”

  “Well, I can’t celebrate until they offer me the job. And I’ll have to figure out a situation for Sunny if I get it. I’d probably be able to work more than half the week from home, but there would be some events I’d need to attend, sometimes with little notice. That’s why I have to line a couple people up.”

  “You got any leads?”

  “Actually, yes. There’s this company that matches families and childcare workers. A friend of a friend recommended it. They sent me a few people to check out today. I’ll have to interview them all, but the company vets them, runs background checks, and makes sure they have appropriate experience. Like, I specifically requested people who have worked with special-needs kids.” I took a sip. “I just pray it will work out.”

  “Well, my gram always says if you think positively, make yourself believe it will all work out, it will. We have no idea how much our outlook affects things.”

  “I definitely have to work on that.”

  Deacon took a seat on my couch and picked up a ball of yarn I had sitting there from the night before. “What are you making?”

  “Oh. I’ve been trying to teach myself to crochet, but it’s not going well. I wanted to make a hat for Sunny.”

  “Promise not to laugh, okay?” he said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t laugh at what I’m about to tell you.”

  Before he could say anything further, my phone rang.

  He waved his hand. “Take it. I’ll tell you after.”

  When I went to pick it up, Deacon walked over to where Sunny was swinging. He knelt down and muttered something to her.

  The call was from a number I didn’t recognize. “Hello?”

  “Carys? It’s Cynthia.”

  I cleared my throat. “Oh…hello, Cynthia.”

  With wide eyes, I looked over at Deacon. He gave me a fist pump.

  “I did a lot of thinking after you left my office today,” she said. “I’ve always been a big believer that you have to go with your gut.”

  My heart started to pound. “Okay…”

  “My gut told me not to waste the time of those other two interviewees. I should just offer you the position. With your history, I doubt anyone could put their heart into it the way you can.”

  My jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

  “I am. Congratulations. The job is yours if you want it.”

  “I do. I do—thank you!”

  Deacon gave me a thumbs-up and smiled wide.

  “Now, I’m assuming you’ll need time to line someone up for your daughter, so why don’t we select a start date in, say, three weeks? You can let me know if you need a bit longer.”

  Blinking, I answered, “Sure. That sounds amazing.” I had to keep myself from jumping up and down.

  “I’ll email you an exact date. Plan to work in the office for at least the first three days for training.”

  “Okay. You got it.”

  “We’ll be in touch.”

  “Cynthia…” I said before she could hang up.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

  “I’m certain you won’t disappoint.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  After I hung up, I waved my hands and screamed, “I can’t believe I got it!”

  “Hell yeah!” Deacon yelled as he came over and pulled me into a hug.

  Whoa.

  I hadn’t been expecting that, but it sure did feel good to be wrapped in his arms. Now I knew firsthand why my daughter liked it so much.

  He pulled back. “I’m so happy for you, Carys.”

  “This will hopefully be the best of both worlds, if I can make it work.”

  “Not if…but when. You will make it work. You have to believe that.”

  “That’s right. I vowed to believe, and I will.” I smiled. “Thank you for the reminder.”

  “Atta girl.”

  “Would you want to celebrate tonight with me?” I asked, feeling giddy. “My treat. I insist.”

  His smile faded. “Shit. I would love to. But I told someone I’d go see a show tonight. She already bought the tickets and—”

  “Oh my gosh!” I waved my hand. “You don’t have to explain.”

  “No, I do. Because I really would’ve loved to celebrate with you tonight. This is a big deal.”

  I felt stupid for having suggested it. Perhaps this job offer had given me a false sense of confidence. “I shouldn’t have assumed you had nothing better to do than to celebrate with me on a whim.”

  “Why? We’re friends, right? Friends celebrate with friends.”

  And there it was. I’d been officially friend-zoned. It wasn’t like I didn’t already know this. But I suppose a part of me had held a tiny glimmer of hope for something more than platonic. Why did I even want that with—as he’d once dubbed himself—the manwhore next door? That wouldn’t be good for me.

  “A raincheck, okay?” he insisted.

  Since he had to get ready for his date, Deacon left a few minutes later.

  When the door closed behind him, I walked over to Sunny, who was still calmly enjoying the baby swing. “Looks like it’s just you and me for the celebration tonight. I’m thinking sushi takeout for me, and pureed sweet potatoes for you? What do you say? Sound good?”

  She kicked her legs and flashed me a big smile.

  Then I remembered Deacon had been going to tell me something before the phone call from Cynthia came in. He’d asked me not to laugh. But I was laughing now just thinking about it—not even knowing what the hell I was laughing about.

  * * *

  Later that night, after Sunny went to sleep, I sat down with my takeout maki rolls and popped open a bottle of pink champagne I’d had in my fridge since before my daughter was born.

  Turning on the television, I selected On Demand and decided to watch some episodes of Flip or Flop on HGTV—the old seasons from before the stars, Tarek and Christina, got divorced. This was my exciting celebration. But I wouldn’t complain. At least I had something to celebrate.

  Halfway into my dinner, I got a text. It was a photo of a champagne glass.

  Deacon: Cheers to you.

  I sent him
back a photo of myself sipping my champagne.

  Carys: Cheers!

  Deacon: Nice!!! Glad to see you’re celebrating.

  Carys: How was the show?

  Deacon: It was okay. I’m kind of looking forward to heading home and going to sleep, though.

  Carys: Heading home alone tonight?

  Deacon: Yes. Not feeling it.

  Carys: Ah. You win some, you lose some. That’s too bad. But at least I know I’ll get some sleep ;-)

  Deacon: That’s very true.

  Carys: Sorry, couldn’t help myself.

  Deacon: I can take it.

  Carys: This explains why you’re texting me from your date. I hope she’s not right in front of you?

  Deacon: No. The champagne was from earlier (but in your honor). I’m on a bathroom break right now.

  Carys: So nice of you to think of me in there.

  Deacon: I’m not on the shitter. Don’t worry.

  Carys: Well, that’s good.

  Deacon: What did you have to eat with your champagne?

  Carys: I got sushi rolls from Miku.

  Deacon: That place is good. But have you tried Ichigo?

  Carys: No.

  Deacon: Ohhh. You need to! I’ll pick some up this week and bring it by.

  I was already looking forward to that day a little too much. Then I thought of something.

  Carys: Hey, what were you going to tell me earlier? When you asked me not to laugh at you? I got that call about the job and you never had a chance to tell me. LOL

  Deacon: See? You’re already laughing.

  Carys: I’m sorry.

  Deacon: You really want to know?

  Carys: Yes.

  The dots moved around while he typed.

  Deacon: I used to crochet.

  Carys: What? LOL You did?

  Deacon: Told you not to laugh.

  Carys: I’m not really laughing. I swear. Not out loud. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that.

  Deacon: It’s a fucked-up story how I learned. I was sort of forced into it. I’ll tell you the next time we have coffee. I gotta get back to the table or else she’ll think I’m whacking off in here.

  Well, that provided quite a visual.

  Carys: Yeah. I’ll let you get back to your date.

  Deacon: And I’ll let you get back to your bubbly.

  Carys: Thanks for checking in.

  Deacon: Enjoy the rest of your night.

  Carys: My imagination will be running wild, thinking about you being forced to crochet at gunpoint.

  Deacon: It’s not that bad. But close.

  My finger lingered over the keypad. I wanted so badly to tell him he should stop by when he got back. But I thought better of it.

  Then he texted again.

  Deacon: Okay. I’ll tell you real quick. When I was sixteen, I was acting up, getting into trouble. My parents made me live with my grandmother for the summer. All I was allowed to do was go to football practice and come back to her house. At the time, she was crocheting clothes for families in need. Sweaters, scarves, stuff like that for the upcoming winter. She made me learn how to do it. Forced me to sit down with her every night and help.

  I couldn’t contain the smile on my face.

  Carys: Wow. That’s sweet.

  Deacon: At the time, I was pretty fucking miserable. But when we delivered the items we made, and I got to see the smiles on those kids’ faces, it didn’t seem so bad anymore.

  Carys: That’s an awesome story.

  Deacon: Take it to the grave, Kincaid. I can’t let a rumor about me crocheting with an old lady ruin my game.

  Carys: You got it. LOL

  Deacon: Okay. Really going now.

  Carys: Have a good night.

  Deacon: You too.

  He closed out our exchange with three little celebration hat emojis, and I wanted to slap myself for being happy that he “wasn’t feeling” his date. He’d been thinking of me tonight.

  CHAPTER 5

  Deacon

  WHAT GOES IN MUST COME OUT

  I knew today was Carys’s first day of her new job. Over the past few weeks, she’d interviewed a ton of people about watching Sunny. She’d finally found a woman she liked—a retired daycare worker looking for something to keep herself occupied, and who didn’t require a set schedule.

  I’d gotten up at 5AM and gone to the gym, grabbing Starbucks on the way back so I could drop one off for Carys before she had to leave for work. Even if she’d already had her coffee, an extra might not hurt today.

  Holding the cardboard tray, I knocked on her door.

  She opened, and it was clear from her face that something was wrong.

  “What’s going on?”

  Her voice was shaky. “Sharon, the woman who was supposed to be watching Sunny today, just called. Her husband is having problems breathing, and she had to take him to the emergency room. She’s not going to be able to come.” A tear fell down her cheek. “This is my first day, and I’m already flaking out.” She blew out a breath. “I’m done, Deacon. So done.”

  Shit. “The agency couldn’t provide you with anyone else?”

  “Not on such short notice. I’m supposed to leave in ten minutes.” She shook her head. “I’m just gonna have to explain the situation to Cynthia and see if she can extend my start date by a day. But honestly, if I were her, I’d tell me not to bother coming in tomorrow.”

  This made me angry; it wasn’t fair. Carys had all of her ducks in a row. This wasn’t her fault. She needed this PR gig, and might not ever find something so perfect again.

  She didn’t know it, but she and I were kindred spirits. I knew full well what it was like to have to redefine your life. Finding something that gave you a purpose after losing your entire world meant everything.

  A voice inside my head urged me to offer help, even though it was way out of my comfort zone. It took several seconds for my fear to step aside.

  Although I was probably completely crazy, I refused to let her fail. “You think you can teach me everything I need to know about watching Sunny in ten minutes?”

  She looked up as my words registered. Her eyes went wide. “I can’t let you do that, Deacon.”

  “Come on. We’re wasting time. We know I have the holding thing down. What else do I need to know?”

  She just stood there in shock.

  It was up to me to push things forward. “Show me how to change her diaper.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes. Let’s go. You don’t want to be late.”

  She picked Sunny up out of her playpen and led the way to the baby’s room.

  Seeming discombobulated, Carys did the best she could to demonstrate the diaper-changing process.

  Her words came out rushed. “You roll the dirty one up in a ball like this and put it right in the basket.”

  “Easy enough,” I said calmly, though the diaper thing freaked me out.

  “This one was just pee, but if it were poop, you’d lift her legs up sort of like this and use the wipes to clean her. I still use one wipe to clean her after pee, though.” She demonstrated the process of wiping Sunny’s chubby bottom, front to back.

  I swallowed. If it wasn’t poop now, the chances of it being poop later were pretty high. I vowed to worry about that when the time came. Couldn’t say I was looking forward to it, though.

  “You take a new diaper from here and place it under her, then fold the top over and secure the sides with these tabs.”

  I exhaled. “That seems pretty straightforward.”

  “Yeah, well, it depends on the situation, but the main thing is, just be careful to make sure she doesn’t roll off the table. If you don’t change or clean her perfectly, it’s not the end of the world.”

  After that, Carys put Sunny in the baby swing and brought me into the kitchen to show me where the formula was.

  She pointed. “These single-serving containers just pour right into the bottle I use right there.”

  C
arys placed the jars of baby food I’d need on the counter along with a plastic spoon.

  She began writing down a feeding schedule. “She already had her bottle this morning, so the next meal can be these pureed bananas at eight. She normally has rice cereal for breakfast, but that’s a little more complicated to prepare, so I’ll just give her that for dinner.”

  I nodded, trying hard to take it all in.

  “Don’t worry, it’s all down on this pad of paper—what to give her and when.”

  I scratched my head. “Okay…yup.”

  “I would change her diaper next around ten. So, approximately every two hours.”

  I gulped but tried to seem nonchalant.

  Carys lifted one of the jars. “Around 11AM, she’ll have these sweet potatoes and peas. Then I follow it up with another bottle of formula.”

  My head started to spin a little. “Got it.”

  “At noon, you’re gonna want to try to put her down for a nap. But change her diaper again first. Text me if you have an issue putting her down. It usually just entails placing her on her back in the crib and turning on her mobile. It’s okay to leave her in there awake. She eventually falls asleep if the mobile is on.”

  Trying to maintain my game face, I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  “Some babies have two naps, but she only has one. I find she sleeps better at night with just the one.”

  “And you said in the past, her naps can be anywhere from an hour to three?”

  “Yeah. I’m impressed you remembered that.” She smiled. “But yes, very unpredictable.”