by Voss, Deja
“Fine, but do it just like yours, Uncle Hank!”
Whatever, the kid wants a mohawk, he can have one. Hell, if the kid wants a pony, I’ll get him one. As long as I can keep him here with me, he can have whatever he wants.
I sit him down on the closed toilet seat and start up the razor.
“It’s gonna be loud by your ear. And it might tickle,” I say. “Just stay still.”
“Is it going to hurt?” he asks. “I don’t care. Just tell me.”
“Buddy I will never do anything to hurt you. Do you understand me?”
He just sighs and stares straight ahead. I turn on the razor and I can tell he’s holding his breath, trying not to move.
“See?” I ask, dragging it over the side of his head. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
I try to not even let my mind go to the ways this kid could have been hurt. Lord knows I’ve been there, and my road to functioning like a normal human hasn’t been a straight and narrow path. Hell, I’m still a mess, and I know it. I’m not going to let that happen to him, though.
“The mean guy told my mom you would hurt us. He said you beat him up,” he says.
I don’t know who his mom talked to before she got to me, but I’ve beat up a lot of ‘mean guys’ in my day.
“Who’s the mean guy?” I ask, holding his chin up so I can make sure I shave the other side even with this one.
“He’s my mom’s friend. His house is not very nice and he has a dog that bit me.” He holds up his arm and points at a faint scar that’s nearly faded. I don’t know who he’s talking about, and for all I know, I’ve never met the man. Sometimes kids hear things and misconstrue them. Still, it makes me question just what brought Delaney to my doorstep.
“Hey!” Stacy says, peeking her head in the doorway of the bathroom. “Matching mohawks, huh? Looks pretty cool to me!”
Jesse jumps up and takes off running for her, wrapping himself around her leg.
“Hey,” I say, smiling at her sheepishly. I know she was mad as hell when she left earlier today, and I accept that. She doesn’t have to want to marry me right now. She doesn’t even have to love me. As long as she’s here, though, I’m going to do whatever it takes to show her how I feel about her, to be a good man to her.
I’m not going to force her hand. She’ll figure it out for herself.
She runs her fingers through my hair, giving me that look. “I kinda like it,” she says with a wink.
“How was your trip?” I ask.
“It was good,” she says, reluctantly. I can hear something in her voice that says the exact opposite of that.
“Really?”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” she says with a shrug. She pries Jesse off her leg and kneels down to kiss him on the head. “Right now, I have a truck full of goodies for some little boy that needs unloaded.”
He wraps his arms around her neck and she picks him up and hugs him tight.
“I missed you, Aunt Stacy,” he says.
“Did you have fun today?”
“Oh yeah,” he says. “Did you know Uncle Hank rides a motorcycle?”
“You did not put this child on your bike,” she says, shooting me the look of death.
“Not today,” I laugh. “I gotta do something special for his fifth birthday, you know?”
The three of us go out to the truck and begin unloading it. The bed is full of furniture and the back seat is full of shopping bags. I’m glad I sent her. I wouldn’t even know where to start, and getting to spend a full day with my son for the first time was good for the both of us. I thought it was going to be a lot harder, that I wouldn’t know how to relate to him, or that he’d be afraid of me, but it turns out he’s just like the rest of us.
He likes eating, sleeping, and fast things on wheels.
I get to work setting up the bed frame in the spare room while she lets him unbox toy cars and remote-control trucks. She pulls out clothes from the shopping bags and sorts them before putting them in the washing machine.
I never pictured this room like this, the bright red truck bed frame and tiny dresser and toy box in the corner. She hangs curtains and folds clothes, and by the time we’re finished, it looks like this room was always his, always meant to be the place where he would grow up.
“Next time, Jesse, you’ll have to come with me so we can pick out some decorations and paint,” she says. “I don’t know what colors you like.”
He can barely keep his eyes open at this point, but he’s rolling a little matchbox car around on the carpet, making quiet little engine sounds.
“You did good, babe,” I say, squeezing her hand. “Better than I could’ve. I really thought there was going to be more ice cream, though.”
“I didn’t have a cooler. I figured it would melt,” she laughs, punching me in the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I got a little something for you. You’re going to have to wait til Jesse goes to bed to open it, though.” She winks at me like she’s up to something, and I can’t wait to see what she has in mind. “We should probably think about dinner right now though.”
I am so happy that she’s home. I didn’t realize I could miss a person that I didn’t even know existed until a few weeks ago. I didn’t realize I could miss a person after them only being gone for a couple hours. I didn’t realize I could miss a person, period. Something about having her back here feels so good. My little family is complete.
I help her make dinner, and Jesse manages to stay awake long enough to eat a massive plate of spaghetti and drink about a half-gallon of chocolate milk. I don’t know where the kid is putting it all, but I do know he needs it. It doesn’t matter what you put in front of him, every time he eats, it’s like his last meal. It makes me sad. I hope I can show him he doesn’t have to worry about that here.
She gives him a bath after dinner while I clean up, and dresses him in pajamas with red trucks all over them.
“You want to try and sleep in your new room tonight?” she asks him as he starts nodding off. He’s so exhausted he doesn’t even hesitate as she folds down the covers and tucks him in. She leaves the lamp on the nightstand on and kisses his forehead.
“Your dad loves you,” I whisper, watching him curl up into a little ball as he snores away.
“You gotta go to the clubhouse tonight?” she asks, as she walks to the fridge and grabs a beer.
“No,” I say, grabbing one for myself.
“I understand if you do, it’s ok. I got this.”
“Azalea, it’s not going to be like that. You’re not a live-in nanny. You’re not here to look after us or take care of my responsibilities. The guys understand. He needs me more than they do right now.”
She takes a long draw from her beer and smiles at me. “I know. But I am your partner in this, no matter how you want to look at it. I want to help you. Not because I have to. I care about you. I want to make your life better.”
I’ve never heard those words before, and right now, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s gorgeous and perfect, standing there in her jean shorts and t-shirt, her make-up long gone. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her tenderly. She doesn’t pull away.
“What do you want to do?” I ask. It’s too early for bed, and I want to make sure Jesse is officially settled in for the night, anyway.
“How about we just watch some TV? Normal couple stuff?”
She curls up on the couch next to me, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Couple stuff, huh?”
“Like dating couple stuff. Like boyfriend and girlfriend stuff. We have the rest of our lives to do married couple stuff.” She kisses my neck and hands me the remote and I hold her tight. I guess I can settle for dating couple stuff for now. Just hanging out here with her is better than anything else I could see myself doing right now.
“So you are my girlfriend, then?” I ask.
“Call it whatever you want. You’re stuck with me.”
Fifteen Years Ago
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“Mom,” I whine. “I’m bored.” I thought it was really awesome when Uncle Larry and my mom told me I didn’t have to go to school anymore, but now I’m starting to change my mind. There’s nothing for me to do in this nasty apartment.
I’m drawing a picture for Esther of my old house. My crayons are getting really tiny, so I have to press really light. My mom says we’re too poor for me to get new ones. She says if I want new ones, I’m gonna have to start earning my keep around here. I try to help by doing the dishes or picking up garbage off the floor when her and Uncle Larry take too much medicine and don’t wake up for a long time, but it doesn’t really matter.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” she says. She’s watching some show on TV where a judge is yelling at people, and her eyes look all watery, like they do when she took too much medicine. “Why don’t you play your game.”
I burst into tears, screaming at the top of my lungs. I had reached my boiling point with this woman.
“Son, what the fuck is wrong with you?” she asks, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me.
“Why are you being so mean? You know Uncle Larry broke my game.” It was a very sore subject for me. My video game was the closest thing I had to a friend around here, and he knew it. She watched while he ripped it out of my hands and smashed it with a hammer yesterday because I wasn’t listening to him.
“Oh yeah. You were asking for it.”
I don’t even know what that means. I don’t ask for anything really. Except when can I call Gavin and can I please have some dinner, too, and why do these bugs keep biting me? I know better than to ask for too much, because I’ll just get beat. I learned really quickly to save my asks for very important things.
“I’m running away, Mom, and you can’t stop me,” I say. I know if I run really fast she’ll never be able to catch me. I don’t know if she can even stand up right now. I’ve thought about it a lot. I know my old address and I’ve seen people hitchhike on TV. I bet I could do it just fine. I’ve thought about it before. She probably wouldn’t even notice after a while.
She is crying now. I hate when she cries. She looks like Esther when she cries and it makes me feel really bad. It makes me want to help her. I know she isn’t a bad person. She says she loves me. She’s just very sick. I think my dad sent me here so I can take care of her. I can’t run away. I need to be a strong guy like my brother.
“Don’t cry, Mom,” I say, climbing up on the couch next to her. “I’m not going to run away.”
She grabs me by the arm really hard. Now she’s mad. “Ouch!” I yell. “Stop it, Mom. I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”
“You’re right, you’re not going to run away,” she says. She gets out her stretchy thing and wraps it around my arm until my fingers go numb.
“Mom!” I scream, trying my hardest to get away from her, kicking and thrashing as she stabs me with a needle, but she’s so much bigger than me. Now I feel weird and sleepy. I don’t know why but I can’t stop laughing.
“Try and run away now,” she says.
I don’t want to run away. I feel warm and sleepy. I feel safe. I feel happy. I know it’s not right, but maybe I am sick too and I need medicine. I curl up in her lap and fall asleep.
Present Day:
I wake up to another blood-curdling scream. We must have passed out on the couch, and I feel her start to stir on top of me. She sits up with a soft groan.
“Go to bed,” I whisper. “I got this.”
“Are you sure?” she asks. I kiss her on her lips and walk back to Jesse’s bedroom, scooping him up in my arms as he hugs me tight, screaming and crying like he’s being murdered. I don’t know what’s going on his head, but it makes me want to cry, too. I know exactly how he feels. I know I can shower him in gifts and let him do whatever he wants whenever he wants, but that’s not what he needs.
He needs to feel safe. He needs a father who’s going to take care of him and never let anything bad happen to him ever again.
“You’re ok, buddy,” I say, sitting down on the edge of the bed and just letting him cry into my shoulder.
“They’re going to take me away and they’re going to kill Stacy,” he screams.
“No they’re not. I promise.”
Soon, he’s not crying anymore. He falls asleep in my arms, and I lay him back down in his bed and tuck him in. It looks like everyone in this house is going to sleep tonight, but not me. I stay by his side all night long, watching his every move, his every breath, trying to figure out what I need to do to show him that he’s going to be safe here.
Him and Azalea both. My two reasons to live.
Chapter 24
Stacy:
I guess you could say my life is ‘back to normal’, even though I really don’t have much a baseline to go by. Hank’s back to work at the shop during the day, and I’m bartending a couple nights a week.
We’ve spent the last two months making sure Jesse is getting all the help that he needs. It took a lot of coaxing to get him in the truck, but now that we did, he loves his field trips. Maybe it’s because I make sure that for every therapist’s appointment, doctor’s appointment, and play date with the kids he’ll be going to preschool with in the fall, we end up with a toy, or an ice cream cone, or a visit with his dad at the bike shop. Maybe he’s just getting better.
His mother did a really good job of trying to ruin him, but every day he seems to be progressing. He even sleeps all through the night most of the time now, only waking up on nights I work late because he knows if he sneaks out of bed I’ll probably share my snacks with him and watch cartoons with him.
He’s even come around to letting Esther come over and babysit him every once in a while. While his vocabulary is always much more colorful after a day with her, the two get along famously.
As for the paternity test, it said exactly what we thought it would. Trying to explain it to Jesse, though, that’s something we’ve been dancing around for a few weeks now. I know it breaks Hank’s heart every time he calls him “Uncle Hank,” but until we can track down his mother and take her to court, there’s still a lot hanging in the balance here.
My claws are sharpened, though. I’m ready for a fight.
Life is good, life is normal, and I don’t look over my shoulder half as much as I used to. I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep it that way.
My cell phone rings on the kitchen countertop. Jesse has just settled down for his afternoon nap, and I’m trying to get some laundry done.
“Hey, babe,” I say to Hank, “what’s up?”
“Esther’s coming over,” he says. “Come down to the shop. Bring the truck.”
“What’s going on?” I ask. “Are you ok?”
“Just come down here,” he says, and quickly hangs up. Before I know it, Esther’s walking through the front door.
“What in the world is going on?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” she says, shrugging. “I got this. You got any food?”
“Help yourself,” I laugh as the redhead starts digging through my fridge. “Jesse’s napping.”
I don’t really care for surprises, considering where I’ve come from. And the fact that the last few months have been a series of never-ending surprises, but I have a feeling Hank wouldn’t do me wrong.
I get in the truck and drive down the mountain, hit the highway, and head to the shop. The only bike parked outside is his. The windows are dark and the neon open sign isn’t turned on.
He’s waiting at the front door of the office and swings it open as soon as I get out of the truck. He looks so good in his tight jeans, just the perfect amount of sweaty, a little bit of motor oil smeared on his forehead. His square jaw, corded arms, and mohawk pulled back into a little ponytail makes him look like a model. I swear he gets hotter every day.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “What’s going on?”
He’s grinning from ear to ear like a kid who just got away with something.
He covers my eyes with one hand and leads me through the hallway into the garage.
“Am I going to be happy?” I ask.
“I hope so,” he says. I can see the lights flick on from the cracks in his fingers. “If not, I guess I’ll just have to send it back.” He pulls his hand away from my face, and I feel like my legs just turned to Jell-O. I have no words. I’m trying really hard, my mouth wide open, jaw on the floor, but nothing is coming out.
“This is my bike,” I finally stammer, running over to the off-white and black Victory Hammer with the mean exhaust pipes. “Where the hell did you get this?”
“It’s your bike, but it’s not your bike,” he says. “Ever since you told me about it, I’ve been searching the internet every day to see if one pops up. You have expensive taste. Found this thing on the other side of the state a couple weeks ago. It was so bent to shit it probably belonged in a scrap yard.”
“This is my bike,” I stammer again. I can’t even blink, I’m in that much shock. “You did this for me?”
“I had some help .” He shrugs casually, as if it’s no big deal.
This is a huge fucking deal.
This is the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.
This cold, quiet man who once wanted to kill me never ceases to surprise me.
I leap into his arms and smother his sexy face in kisses. I don’t know what else to do. If I didn’t want to go for a ride so bad, I’d probably just rip his clothes off right now.
“What do you want to do?” he asks with a wink.
“Oh you know exactly what,” I say. “I want to take this thing out on the road, and then I want to come back here to this empty shop and show you how much I appreciate you.
“One more thing,” he says, handing me a helmet. It’s black with a thin strip of bright pink flowers along the back. Azalea flowers, just like the bush that grew outside the window when my mom was bedridden with me when I was growing inside her.
“You’re kidding me, right?” I ask. “You literally thought of everything.”