“Well, that was fun,” Rydell said from the floor, as I entered our room. Bay sat right across from her, sitting Indian style just like Rydell.
“Dell, you do.”
“Sorry, baby. How about blue?”
“No, wed.”
“You didn’t give me any red ones.”
“Bay have a wed.”
I sat at the foot of the bed with a smile, watching my two favorite girls play with Bay’s new blocks.
Rydell dropped her arm over my leg and I took her hand in mine. “I was talking to you, cowboy.”
“What? Oh, the fun? Yeah, right? I’m sorry, babe.”
“Your family is lovely, so welcoming.”
“I wed, Da-day,”
“I see, good job. I’m sorry, Ry. I didn’t know my mother was going to be here.”
“You weren’t very nice to her.”
“I didn’t want her here.”
“My Gamble come.”
My eyes shifted to Bay when I realized Gamble was her grandma and I needed to watch my mouth. Smarty pants, anyway. “Yup, your grandma came. Joy.”
Bay stood, gasping when my laptop played a ringing phone. “My mommy come, too.”
“I’m going to soak in the hot tub. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
I gave Bay a boost to the bed and held onto Rydell’s wrist. “You don’t have to leave.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’ve been looking forward to that tub all day.”
I hit the button for Bay and watched Rydell walk out, unsure of her mood. I mean, I knew she had to be upset for the way she was treated, but I couldn’t tell if it bothered her or not. She didn’t strike me as the type.
“Hi, Bay Berry Jandt. How was your day? Did you get to see Santa?”
“S, him say, ho, ho.”
I fell across the bed behind Bay and she fell into me. Kit and I both laughed at her when she propped her little feet to my legs, using my body as her own personal recliner.
“Dell, build dat,” Bay said, with a crooked finger pointed to the floor where Kit couldn’t see.
For whatever reason, I redirected the conversation, forgetting about the mental note I had literally just made. Another time. “Tell Mommy about the Cinderella.”
Bay stood and twirled in a circle while I protected the family jewels with my hand. I have no idea what she said, but it had something to do with ice, a big horse, and dancing in circles.
“I wish I could have been there for that. Maybe we can find something like that to do for her birthday next month. I know there’s a theater in Charlotte, but I’m not sure we’ll have the time. I only have five days.”
I frowned, pulling Bay back to her butt. “Charlotte? What do you mean?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean? I’m not missing her birthday. We already talked about this.”
Bay held up seven fingers, reminding us of her age. “I two.”
“But what does Charlotte have to do with anything?”
“We live there, dork. My family is going to want to see her.”
I didn’t understand what she was getting at, not in the least. “I can’t get five days off of work.”
Kit tilted her head and gave me that grin. The one where she was about to give me bad news. “I don’t need you to take off work. I just need you to bring her to me. I should get in on the sixth. That’s a Friday, but it will be late. Like sevenish. You can fly in after work and we should be there around the same time.”
“I can’t. I have a birthday party planned for her on that Saturday.”
“You can make it for the next weekend, Brantley. She’s two. She’s not going to care what day it is.”
“I two, Da-day.”
“I know, baby,” I said, while moving her four fingers from right in front of my face.
“We’ll discuss it later. We have time. What are your plans for Christmas? You have to let me watch her open her gifts. I’ll send them there, but you might have to wrap them.”
My mind was still trying to catch up with the birthday thing. How the hell was I supposed to pull that one off?
Just when I was about to mention Rydell, Bay spotted the new squirt toys her Grandma bought her. She was no longer interested in her mom. She wanted a bath.
“I cake a baf wif Dell.”
“Not yet. Come and talk to mommy.”
Nope. Bay wasn’t about to have that. She had a new whale that squirted water and she knew Rydell was in the tub.
“It’s fine. Let her go. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I love you so much, Bay.”
“I pay a toys.”
“Okay, baby. Mommy will talk to you tomorrow. I love you, baby.”
Bay was already off, gathering toys for the jet tub occupied by Rydell. “I’ll talk to you later, Kit.”
“Brantley?”
“Yeah?”
“I think you should give your mom a break. She loves you and Bay.”
I didn’t bother hiding my annoyance. “Yeah, okay, Kit. I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll talk to you later.”
Bay called for Dell through the door, gibberish about a fish, and caking a bath, too.
“Come in, baby,” Rydell called back.
Bay barged in as soon as I cracked the door, insisting she take a bath, too.
Rydell laughed at her and helped her out of her clothes when Bay tossed the new rubber toys to the tub full of bubbles.
“Sorry, she saw the toys. Do you think you have enough bubbles in there?”
“It really wasn’t that many. It’s the jets.”
“Bay bubbles.”
“Wait, you have to take your socks off.”
I lifted Bay’s naked body and Rydell pulled both socks from her feet.
“That was fast,” she said, eyes on me, waiting for an explanation.
“Yeah, Bay wasn’t interested. She has new toys and she knew you were in here. She wants me to bring her to Charlotte next month for Bay’s birthday.”
“I two, Dell.”
“I know. You’re a big girl.”
“Uh-huh,” Bay agreed, as the whale filled with water.
“I thought you were having a party at your place.”
I dropped the seat on the toilet and rested my elbows on my knees. Rydell was so good with Bay, and I couldn’t help but think about our babies, but then I felt guilty for thinking it. Like it would take something away from Bay. “I was, I am. Kit wants her to see her family.”
“Why aren’t they seeing her now? She’s been here since the end of August. This is December.”
I couldn’t really tell what she meant by that. Unsure of it being a stab toward them or Kit, I derailed it. “You’re coming with us.”
“Ha, no, I’m not doing that. This one was enough.”
“We won’t be with her. We’ll get a room. Bay will stay with her mom.”
“Dell, too, Daddy.”
“Bay, you lost your British accent. Yay.”
“Yay,” Bay said, her little hands clapping together, starting a new game with flying bubbles.
“Tell Rydell she needs to come with us,” I said, with an innocent attempt to persuade Rydell to come, too.
“Come, Dell.”
“We’ll see, baby.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Our morning started out okay. My mom and sister talked to Rydell when we met them for breakfast, but it wasn’t anything over the top. A half ass effort to appease me, not her.
Rydell silenced her phone twice with a frown, and I couldn’t help it. Maybe jealousy, maybe not. I couldn’t help but wonder why she wouldn’t answer, knowing she didn’t want to take the call around me, or my family. I shook it off, realizing how stupid I had become until she did it again and I asked.
“Who is that?”
“It’s Miss Day.”
“Oh, yeah. Don’t answer that,” I said, in agreement. We could deal with that the next day. I didn’t want to hear her mouth any more than Rydell did.
We were just sayin
g goodbye to my mother and my sister, both of them making a huge fuss over Bay when it rang again. I sort of hugged my mother back when she attacked me without warning, wrapping her arms around me before I had a chance to stop her. I tried to make it quick, but she wouldn’t let go.
“I’m so sorry, Brantley. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas. Please call me.”
My attention had already left her for Rydell, walking away to answer Miss Day. I’ll talk to you guys later, I said as I followed Rydell, leaving my family for her, feeling puzzled about the expression on her face.
“Call me,” Bridgette ordered, with a stiff finger as they walked out the door.
I nodded and continued toward Rydell, knowing something was up. Something not good.
“Jesus, Olivia. What? We’ll be back tomorrow. This couldn’t wait?”
The look on her face confused me even more. That and the shaky tone in her voice. “Oh, God. No. What happened? Wow. I don’t even know what to say. Yeah, I’ll tell him, but you’re going to have to get Father Don to tell his class. I’m sure Brantley won’t take that job. Wow. This sucks. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I held Bay in my arms close, knowing it was something bad. Something that I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear. “What, Ry?”
“Simon was shot in the head this morning.”
“Simon who?” I questioned, not getting it at all. I didn’t know a Simon.
“Harry Potter.”
The blood in my head dropped to my feet, and I couldn’t swallow. “Is he okay?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t look good.”
I sat on a nearby chair in the lobby, dropping Bay to the floor, and looking to see my mom and Bridgett just outside the door, loading their things into the back of a cab. Bay climbed up to a chair beside me, and swung her feet, happy without a care in the world. “What happened?”
“He was shot in the head. I guess him and his cousin found a loaded handgun.”
And just like that, our amazing, happy weekend was replaced with sorrow, and I didn’t understand it. He was so young. How could something like this happen? It was so wrong. I swear even Bay felt the grief. She was extremely well behaved most of the long ride home. Rydell entertained her in the backseat a lot, but other than that, silence filled the vehicle for miles and miles. No matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t grasp it. He was just about to turn eight. He had his whole life ahead of him, and it was so unfair.
Rydell kept tabs with Wendi the entire way home, updating me on his status, which was always the same. Not good. We were nearly home when I beckoned her to call again when I stopped to get gas one more time.
“Call Wendi while I get gas.”
Bay pulled on the straps of her seat, wanting the hell out of her seat. “I go, too, Daddy.”
“Not yet, baby. We’re almost home.”
I pumped twenty bucks in the tank, praying to a God I didn’t know existed that he would be okay. He could annoy me every single day for the rest of the year and I wouldn’t complain once. Please, God, just let him be okay.
Rydell’s hand covered her mouth and her eyes looked toward the convenience store. I knew as soon as she turned to me, tears streaming down her face. “He’s gone.”
An instant surge of anger filled my entire existence. Why? Why? Why? It was so unfair. I couldn’t handle this. I didn’t know how to handle it.
“Are you coming home with me?” I asked Rydell, as we traveled the last twenty minutes of our drive.
“I will if you want me to, but I kind of need to go home.”
“You can go home. I’ll call you later.”
“I call, too, Dell.”
Rydell wiped away black smeary tears and smiled back to Bay. “Okay, baby. You can call me later.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? I’ll stay if you want me to,” she said, once again offering to come home with me.
“Nah, I’m okay. You get some rest.”
Rydell kissed me goodbye, tears still heavy in her eyes. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I don’t know if I can do it.”
“You have to. You have a classful of second graders who are going to need you. I love you.”
“I love you. I’ll call you after I get Bay to bed.”
“I not tire.”
I gave my little Bay a halfhearted smile through the rearview mirror. I could barely even smile at her cuteness. My heart hurt and it felt heavier than anything I had ever felt before. I only knew one person who died in my entire life. My Grandma Sarah. That was hard, and although she, too, was young when she passed, this was crazy. He was seven for God’s sake.
I bathed Bay, and then we ate grilled cheese and tomato soup in front of the television while we waited for her mom to call. I couldn’t even begin to describe the pain, the anger, and the sorrow that filled my entire being. Bay watched Sponge Bob lost in her own little world while I was lost in mine. A sense of guilt filled my heart when I thought about how much the kid got on my nerves. I’d take him asking me if he could tell me something all day long. Every day. Anything was better than this. I frowned at the clock reading eight-ten, and worried about Kit, too. She was never late.
My entire body jumped a foot into the air, startled when my laptop rang.
“Okay, Daddy. My mommy,” Bay said, while informing me with a little hand on mine that it was just her mommy.
“Yes, it’s Mommy. Push right here,” I said sadly, unable to shake the sadness and grief I felt.
“Hey, baby girl. Did you have fun with Grandma Sherri and Aunt Bridgette?”
“Gamble fwy way.”
“Grandma flew away?”
“Uh-huhUh-huh, ana Bwidge.”
“And Aunt Brigde.”
My eyes shifted from the muted TV to Kit and Bay while I listened to the silliness between them, unable to smile.
“You okay, Brantley?”
“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay, just got some bad news today.”
“What? Tell me.”
“No, I don’t want to ruin your fun with Bay. I’ll tell you another time.”
“Brantley John. Tell me.”
“One of my students died this morning.”
Rydell gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God. What happened?”
“I’m not sure of the details. His cousin got a hold of his dad’s gun somehow.”
“Oh, no. I hate hearing this. I’m so sorry, Brantley.”
I hugged Bay close to me when she leaned into my chest. “It sucks so bad. I don’t want to go to school tomorrow. I can’t stand the thought of his empty desk, and I feel a tremendous sense of guilt.”
“Why would you feel guilty?”
“The kid was so annoying. His hand was always in the air, but not because he had the right answer. His mind was on something totally off subject. Always. He would wave his arm like crazy, grunting for me to pick him,” I explained, animatedly waving my hand in the air like Harry Potter would do.
Bay did the same thing with her little arm, her princess pajama shirt exposing her belly.
“I pick you,” I said, with a poke to her belly.
“I don’t even know what to say, Brantley. How awful, but you can’t feel guilty. It’s not your fault. Do you know how many times I envisioned your death certificate? Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.”
I couldn’t even smile at Kit’s joke. I didn’t have it in me. “I can’t stand the thought of going to school tomorrow. Fuck. This sucks.”
“Ff.”
My hand instantly covered Bay’s mouth. “Don’t say it. That’s a bad word.”
“Daddy, saya bad word.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. Did you hear that? No more British Bay.”
Kit ignored the accent comment completely. “What can I do? Do you want to talk about something else? I don’t have anything going on for another three hours.”
“Nah, it’s fine. Part of life, I guess.”
“No, it’s not.
It’s not fair. A second grader shouldn’t die.”
“Have you ever been to a kid funeral? I can’t imagine that, either. I’m going to be expected to go, I’m sure.”
Kit pulled one knee to her chest and replied. “I have, but I was a kid, too. My neighbor growing up, Tommy Hartford. It was a couple days after Christmas.”
“How old?”
“I was eleven, and he was a grade ahead of me. Twelve, I guess. He’d just gotten a new quad for Christmas and we were taking turns riding through the woods.”
“He wrecked?”
“No, he ran a broken tree branch through his throat. Three of us waited and waited for him to come back.”
“You didn’t find him, did you?”
“No, thank God. His best friend did. I ran in the house and stayed there, watching the commotion out the window.”
Kit and I ended up talking for the entire three hours she had while Bay slept close to me. I wasn’t sure I would ever let her sleep alone again. I wanted her near me, close enough to touch. We didn’t spend the entire time talking about child deaths. We talked about everything. Prom, sports, her work, Bay’s birthday, music, anything to keep from closing my eyes and thinking about Simon. We talked until Rydell called. That’s when I told Kit I’d talk to her later.
“Thanks for keeping me company. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Okay, who’s calling you this late?”
“Oh, just one of the teachers from school. I’m sure it’s more about Simon. Have a good day.”
“Yeah, okay. Take care of my baby.”
“I would never let anything happen to her.”
“I know.”
I closed my laptop, feeling guilty all of a sudden. I should have been consoled by Rydell, not Kit.
“Hey, baby.”
“I was just about to hang up. I thought you were going to call.”
I looked to Bay sound asleep in my bed with Phil curled in her arms, unable to shake the dark cloud. “Sorry, I’m not really in a talkative state right now.”
“Yeah, I get it. Do you want me to let you go?”
“Um, I think I’ll call Gabriella. I feel like they would want to tell their kids themselves. I know I would.”
I Pick You Page 24