by Laine Watson
At some point, we fall asleep with the television on. I wake up suddenly and stretch while I look over at Max.
He’s sleeping. Should I move him? Probably not, I don’t exactly know where his room is and his dad probably doesn’t want me roaming around his house.
“But … I am going to tidy up a bit.” He’ll probably be freaked out if he thinks he let me see the living room all gross like this—what am I talking about? He’s a guy, he doesn’t care.
While Max is sleeping, I put away the board game and throw away our takeout containers. Where is the laundry room? I think to myself, as I walk through the kitchen. I spot it off to the side and go back into the living room. It’s not like it’s super dirty, he just has lots of nice clothes all over the floor and surfaces. I’ll put them in the laundry room—but I’m not touching any guy underwear, so that’ll stay.
I pick up his slacks, white shirts, ties, and other collared shirts. I can’t help but sniff them. Wow, all his dirty clothes smell really nice and not at all dirty. I laugh and place the bundle on top of the washer. You probably don’t even wash these kinds of clothes. They’re the kind that go to the cleaners. I walk back out to the living room and start straightening things. I put his shoes at the front door with the other ones. Max’s too. I straighten the pillows on the sofa, fold the two blankets that are on the floor, and pick up the picture frames that are face down and put them face up without even looking at them. I pick up the fireplace stuff and put it neatly back into its holster.
My phone rings, startling me.
“Oh, it’s my phone.” I laugh as I check it. “Hello?”
“Hey, are you still babysitting?”
“Hey, Darby. Yeah, actually, I’m tidying up. It’s not like the dad is a slob, but … actually no he’s not, he’s unrealistically hygienic. Even his dirty clothes smell like hot guy.”
“Is he hot?”
“I don’t actually know, but probably. Probably an asshole, too. Anybody who throws good clothes on the floor probably doesn’t care about much, other than showing off and being a smug asshole. He probably treats women like trash and thinks we should all bow down to him.”
“Yeah, guys who make a lot of money automatically think women can be bought. And most of us can. That’s just how it is.”
“I don’t know about most of us. I’d like to think that we’ve risen from that.”
“Well, you did say yes to a guy you’ve never met. You’re taking care of his child and you’re in his house, all because he said he’d give you five hundred dollars.”
Maybe I’ve never met him. I guess that’s the real reason I’m here. I’ll keep that to myself for now.
“That is true, but it’s not like I’m having sex with him. I’m doing a service.”
“Yeah you are…”
“Shut up!” I say annoyed.
“Plus, I think my mom has a cougar crush on him, so I’m enjoying myself completely. She thinks I just dropped Max off at home. I’m going to hold on to telling her I’m at his house until the perfect moment.”
“You manipulative, little minx.” Darby laughs.
“Yeah, I might even flirt with him just to say I did.”
“Whatever. You and your mom have a weird relationship.”
“You’re just saying that because she doesn’t like you. But you’re right.”
“She doesn’t even know me, and she sure as hell doesn’t know the shit we’ve done together. If she did, she wouldn’t even let me be your friend!”
We both laugh. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“So, you said you were cleaning up his mess?”
“I just took his clothes and put them away. That’s all. I didn’t do anything else. Honestly, there’s nothing else to do. Besides that, it doesn’t even look like anyone lives here.” I hear a car pull into the driveway and look out of the side window. “Oh, my gosh. He’s here. You’ve got me all freaked out. What am I going to do?”
“Calm down. Just see if he’s hot.”
“I don’t care if he’s hot.”
“Well I do, so tough luck. Get to making small talk and see if he needs another babysitter for when you’re not available.”
“It was only this one time, Darby.”
“Well, that sucks.”
I gasp. “He’s getting out of the car.”
“What kind of car does he have?”
The doors go up!
“HE HAS A CAR WITH BUTTERFLY DOORS?!”
“Yeah—wait he’s…” I gasp as a warm feeling comes over my body.
“Summer?” Darby calls, but I can’t answer.
The man who steps out of the car with the butterfly doors is more captivating than my mother had described. His hair is piercing black. It stretches down the nape of his neck and hangs by his face, covering his eyes. He flips his messy locks back to reveal his face. I drop the phone. I try to breathe as my heart beats out of my chest. Panting, my cheeks burn.
He closes the car door, and I bend down to pick up my phone.
The heat in my cheeks spreads all over my face—all over my body. I gulp, and before I know it, he’s opening the front door. I can do nothing but turn around, holding the phone with my mouth open.
He stops halfway inside the entrance hall. “Uh, hey … Summer?”
I can’t speak. My tongue, it won’t move. A whimper is all that comes out.
“Summer?” he calls again, coming all the way inside the house and slipping his shoes off. “Are you okay?”
His voice… I swallow. Oh, my God! It’s him! No!
“Summer?” he says, walking over to me.
Oh God, he’s coming over here.
“Summer?”
“Yes … yes!” I say anxiously. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, exactly?”
“I heard something—your car and then…”
“It’s okay. It’s just me.”
“Um…” I try to say something.
He turns to me. “Wait, do we know each other?”
I gulp, trying to keep my panting to myself. “You…”
“Oh, wait a minute.” He smirks sexily.
“You still have to pay me!” I blurt out.
“Whoa, whoa, of course I would, Summer. Summer Vaughn?” He smirks and turns to look at Max. “How was he?” he asks, walking over to him.
“H-h-e had a good day,” I say awkwardly, averting my eyes from him, clearly sweating and fidgeting.
Oh, my goodness! As if it weren’t bad enough back then, he’s even hotter now. Why do all the scummy guys have to be so hot? The only person I even told about him was Darby, and I still didn’t tell her the truth. He just turns up with a kid? What the hell? That was like five or six years ago. Why am I still so shaken by him? I freak out as he kneels down near Max. He tilts his head a little and kisses his son on his forehead.
An unrecognizable sensation comes over me. Haruki.
“Hello?”
Darby! I put the phone to my ear. “Oh, sorry. Um … I’ll call you back!” I end the call and stuff my phone in my back pocket.
“Was he good?” Haruki asks.
I am finally able to walk or do anything that requires movement. “Oh, yeah. He was great.” I walk over to them, but stop abruptly. I can’t get too close, or I’ll freeze up again. “We ate some mac and cheese. I got you some, too. It’s on the counter,” I say breathily. “We played a game and watched a movie before he fell asleep.”
I was a complete bitch to him back then. Please, God, don’t let him be an asshole to me. I just want to get my money and go home.
“Yeah, he always wants to watch movies but can’t make it through any.” Haruki smiles, standing back up.
He’s not even going to say anything? He’s probably like, ‘I can’t believe I let this racist bitch keep my kid.’ I know he’s going to flip out any time now.
“I cleaned up a little—not that your house is dirty—it’s not. It was just…” I stammer.
“Summer?”
His voice tells me he is about to talk about the past.
“I’m sorry. I’m not racist, and I didn’t do anything to Max. I actually really like him. And I’m sorry about before. I was sixteen and some stupid ass girls were bullying me over a dumb guy and I—”
“Hey, wait, wait!”
“I would never…”
“Summer, yes, you were a complete bitch, and you were the first chick to totally flash me, but…”
“Oh, my God, I totally did!” My face becomes even hotter as I cover my fully covered breasts.
He laughs. “That was a long time ago. I can let it go if you can. A lot of shit has happened. I mean, I have a kid now, and it’s all good. Your mom seems to be good people, so I’m going to assume you are too.”
“This is so awkward.”
The smirk on his face lets me know he has something else to say. “You know I knew that was all an act. Why’d you never come back?”
“Because,” I say, turning my face away from him and averting my eyes. “I thought it was stupid. I dropped out of the program, anyway.”
“Is this the real you?” he asks. “You know you’re blushing, right?”
“Shut up.”
He laughs.
“You’re different too.” He’s so much more laid back and obnoxiously sexy.
“Of course I am. After our little encounter, I pretty much went off the radar. I spent two years losing my fucking mind. Then all of a sudden, I had a kid. That kind of shit puts you back on track.” He pauses. “So, what happened to you? Why’d you let go of your bad girl persona?”
“I don’t know. It just got old. And it wasn’t a bad girl thing, it was an I’m tired of idiot guys thing.”
“And how many idiot guys have you dated?”
Oh, that’s a good question. I ball my fists, taking a deep breath and letting it ease out. “I-I’ve never really had a boyfriend.”
“So what were you tired of, exactly?”
I scratch my head; my lip quivers. “I-I’m going to go…” I say with a hollow voice. “I’m sorry.”
“Summer, you don’t have to be sorry. I’m being rude. Thank you,” he says sincerely. “You’re not acting like a complete bitch now, so if you’re cool, I’m cool.”
How can he just say that? Why is he so … so … it’s hard to say what he is.
“O-okay.”
“You know you don’t have to clean up behind us.”
“It’s fine.”
“I’m not trying to be a slob. I’m just not home a lot. We don’t … have a lot of lady-like people around here. We don’t really have any people here. It’s just me and Max.”
“Oh.” I gulp.
Though his words are normal, his rugged, deep voice has a hint of sweetness. As his voice falls on my ears, I can’t help but notice all the sparks in my body. I twitch, sporadically trying to find more words to say but find none.
“Yeah, so thanks a lot. I know it’s a little later than what I had said, but I can pay you more.”
“No. That won’t be necessary.”
“You sure? It’s almost nine.” He takes off his suit coat and lays it across the top of the sofa.
“It’s fine. He was no trouble,” I say, not staring at how perfectly his shirt fits him. I have a small flashback to his dorm room and his old self. My body tenses up.
“Okay, good then.” He walks over to the desk in the corner, pulls out a checkbook, and starts to write with his left hand.
He’s left-handed? I didn’t notice that before? Does it matter? Why am I freaking out over stuff that doesn’t even matter?
He tears the check so strongly it almost seems like he touches me. I stumble a little, for no reason, just weak. “Oh…” I say, gaining my balance.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah… I—”
“Thanks again. I really need to be here with him, but I want to get a better position. Max and I do have a comfortable lifestyle, but if I get this position, I can make my own schedule.” He sits down on the arm of the sofa with the check in his hand. He lays it on the table and then loosens his tie. I gulp as he rolls his sleeves up.
I don’t get it. It’s just like before: the tone of his voice, his body, his eyes—everything he does messes with me. Why?
“If I get this position, I’ll have to travel a lot, but I can do it at my own leisure. I’ll be able to spend more time with him.”
“Well, you sound like a good father.”
“I don’t know if I am, but I’m trying.”
I lose focus of the conversation. He’s got a lot of tattoos. He didn’t have any back then, did he?
“You look like you’re thinking. What are you thinking about?”
“You have a lot of tattoos.” What? Why did I just blurt that out?
“Oh yeah,” he says, showing off his arms. “I had a few back when I was in college, but I was kind of a bitch. I got these after I graduated.” He shows me his colored arms.
They all look so poetic and tribal and a little Asian, too.
“I have some on my chest.”
“I don’t want to see them!” I say. Oh no! Why does that keep happening? Why am I just blurting out exactly what I think?
“I didn’t think you did.” He laughs coolly. “You seem nervous.”
“I should go.”
“Yeah, I mean, it’s late. Sorry, I don’t get to talk to a lot of grown-ups.”
He thinks I’m a grown-up?
“Well, outside of people at my job? But those fuckers are pretty much preschoolers. Anyway, thanks again.” He reaches for the check on the table and hands it to me.
“Thanks.” I smile and awkwardly leave his house.
Everything seems like a blur until I’m home and in bed, my face in my pillows. I’ve never met a guy who’s like him. He’s so unique, and he looked so good in his suit. I know how to talk to men. Why am I so weird around him? Turning over, I grab one of my pillows and clutch it to my chest. He called me a grown-up. How could he even be nice to me after all the shit I said to him when I was sixteen? I toss the pillow in the air, forgetting mid-way.
The pillow smacks me dead in my face. I’m acting like a little girl. I gasp. My mom’s right. He’s a real man. I’m still stuck in adolescence. A guy like that would never look at me.
I sniffle, a sensation of inadequacy bubbling up in me as I give into my once locked away feelings. It’s too late for me to say I don’t like him. I get what my mom was saying, I want to know more about him too. He had pulled on my heart strings so strongly back then and even stronger now. A sadness sets in. Karma’s a bitch.
I’ll never be able to be with a man like Haruki. There will always be someone better than me, someone he’ll like more than me. I glance up into open space. “I guess it’s my mom this time, she’s just as much of a bitch as Sid, so it’s fitting. I bet she’d do things I wouldn’t dream of doing with him.” I smirk disappointedly.
I’m not stupid like I was, though. My mom has already got him on her radar. I won’t put myself in the position to get laughed at and made a fool of by him or my mother. As if my mother needs anymore ammunition to fuel her arsenal of things to gloat about. Even if these flutters in my stomach and heart mean anything, I should let it go. I know how this goes; I’ll feel way more for him than he’ll ever feel for me.
Chapter Eight: A Job
It’s Monday again and those little fifteen minutes of seeing Haruki are still running through my mind. Everything—how his lips looked when he spoke, how his eyes glistened, how his body moved—it all stayed with me. It isn’t as easy to put him out of my mind this time around.
I am in class, thinking about all this and recalling the things my mother had said about him when my phone rings, startling me out of my thoughts.
Ugh, I hope it’s not my mom, I think as I pull my phone out of my pocket. I gasp. It’s Haruki.
“Excuse me!” I scramble up from my desk. “I have to take this.” I leave the classroom quickly,
slamming the door behind me and answer the phone. Pushing my back up against the wall next to the door, I longingly answer, “Hello?”
“Hey, Summer?”
“Yeah, what’s up? Did you mean to call me?”
“I sort of need your help again. If you’re not busy.”
“I’m not busy; my last class is about to end. I just stepped out to take this call.”
“You’re in college?”
“Yeah. What do you need my help with? And when?”
“Today, if it’s not too short notice. Could you pick Max up from school? You don’t have to pick him up from school.”
“I can.”
“Maybe just from your mom’s office. He rides the bus, although I’m sure he’d rather get a ride from you. I’ll still give you the same amount. I’ll probably be home around eight, or at least I’ll try to. I know you probably feel weird but don’t. Max had a lot of fun with you. There’s really no one else that I know. Well, that I’d trust with my kid.”
“Yeah, you said that, but you went to college here.”
“It’s a long story. I kind of went rogue after college.”
“Did you go back home?”
“No. Technically yes, but not for long. I was back and forth.”
“Why’d you move back?”
“Because this is where the job was.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t really know you, so I don’t know why I’m asking.”
“I can do it. It’s no problem. I don’t feel that weird.”
“Really? I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything. I’ll give you more money.”
“You don’t have to. It’s fine. I like Max; he’s cool.”
“He really likes you, too. He’s actually the reason why I called. I was just going to pick him up and bring him to the office with me, like I used to, but he said he wanted to hang out with you again. You guys didn’t finish your game or something—I don’t know.”
“Oh yeah, we started watching a movie.” I laugh. “I guess, I sort of owe you.”
“Owe me?”
“Yeah.”
“Summer, don’t say that. We’re not those people anymore.”