by T. L Smith
“Maybe it’s best you do,” she says ever so quietly that I almost miss it. She walks off, and just as I hear the door open I say, “What about her son?”
“Your son? She spoke very highly of you even if we all thought you were imagined.” I look up at the nurse. “You do know she works here, right?”
I didn’t, I have no idea. I don’t know anything much about her. I know she’s a nurse and that’s it.
“She has many secrets,” I say.
“I could never work out why she chose to get pregnant knowing what she did.”
Heart disease and she knew.
And she went through with it anyway.
I spin to stare out the window and see Creed holding my son, still rocking him back and forth. Turning, I check Cleo and squeeze her hand. “Don’t you dare leave me. You can’t do this to me. What do I call him? You have a name picked out, right? Tell me.” I kiss her hand. I’m not proud about how she tricked me. But I also don’t want our son not to have a mother either. I grew up like that, and he needs a mother more than I ever did. I’m not enough.
“Wake up, Cleo, fucking wake up.”
Everyone’s here, I knew they would be. We’re one family even if we piss each other off and occasionally want to kill each other. Creed’s mother holds my baby in her arms as I drink a hot coffee.
“Will you shower?” Falcon asks pinching his nose. “Do you really want your son being subjected to that smell?”
I haven’t showered for almost two days. What with the labor then the wait, and now… this. I don’t even know what this is. It’s a watching-and-waiting game, and it’s one I never wanted to have. Who the fuck would choose this?
She’s been in ICU, and there’s no sign of life from her.
It has me worried.
Very fucking worried.
I stand as Echo hands me a bag and points to the bathroom not far from where we are. My eyes find my son, I have no idea what to name him, as Creed’s mother rocks him while humming. He’s safe, it’s a relief but only just slightly. I walk to the shower and strip my dirty suit off that I was in prior to coming to this fucking hospital. I never want to be in this hospital again for as long as I live. While scrubbing myself and washing my hair, I wonder, how the fuck am I going to raise a baby? Is there a handbook I can find to help me? Maybe Google?
Brushing my teeth, I quickly get dressed into some clean clothes, and when I step back out everyone’s standing and watching the window which leads into Cleo’s room. Doctors are in there, as well as the nurses who I found out are her friends—the midwife who told me she has a heart problem is her best friend. The bag drops from my hand and I push myself into the confined room. The tubes are gone from her mouth, and her eyes which are so blue are staring right at me.
“Darby...” she says my name with a dry voice.
The doctor starts speaking to her but her eyes stay glued to me.
“I want to see him. Is he beautiful?”
“Cleo…” the doctor says, and she shakes her head at him.
“I want to see my son, John.” He looks to me and nods—he’s giving me permission to bring him in. I wasn’t allowed to before this moment.
“It’s safe, for him…”
They all nod, even Cleo. The nurse sits her bed up as some of the many people begin to leave. Creed’s mother passes me my sleeping son, and when I come back, Cleo’s eyes track me and what’s bundled up in my hands. Only one nurse remains in the room. She sits next to Cleo’s bed, watching and making sure nothing’s happening.
“Closer, please.” I pull his blanket down so Cleo can see his face. Her hands that appeared so strong only a few days ago now seem weak, tired and hesitant.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask Cleo while still holding our son.
When she answers, she doesn’t look at me, just him. I don’t blame her, he is perfect. “I was very selfish, Darby. I saw you were a good man, and I took advantage of that fact. I won’t deny it, I knew that if I died you would care for him, and he would have a good life.” She coughs and covers her mouth. “Can I hold him?” I look to the nurse who nods her head. I place him in Cleo’s lap, and she wraps both her fragile arms around him.
“He’s so perfect,” Cleo states. “He has my eyes, Darby.”
The baby wakes and stares up at her.
“He does.”
Cleo’s finger runs down the length of his nose. She tells him he has my nose and what a beautiful baby he is. “You may never forgive me, I may never forgive me. But this… this moment is well worth it all.”
I sit in the seat and watch. The nurse snaps a photo of all of us and hands it to me from her Polaroid camera. It’s deceiving, we appear a happy family.
We are just the opposite—we’re a confused-as-fuck family.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” The nurse steps out, and I sit here and wait. How many questions I’ve wanted to ask Cleo over the past days, and now she’s finally awake I don’t know what to ask first as confusion reigns heavily in my mind.
“I hope he has your confidence,” she says breaking through my thoughts.
I look up at her holding our son.
“Do you still want to do a test to see if he’s yours?”
I shake my head. “He’s mine.”
She smiles. “He is. I may have tricked you about other things, but this I did not.”
“What shall we call him?”
She gazes over at me. “You haven’t named him?”
I shake my head. “No… figured you’d want to.”
“Thank you.” She brushes a tear away from her eye. “I’ve had a shit life, a terrible existence growing up. But I had one saving grace, an old man who lived not far from me whose name was Charles. He would feed me when my family wouldn’t. He would buy me shoes when he saw my toes hanging out of mine. I’d like to name him Charles in the hopes he will become a good man.” She strokes his face again. “Can you take him?” she asks me with a shaky voice.
I do so, taking him firmly in my grasp, and the minute my hands are on him her eyes roll back in her head, and she starts shaking violently. I press the call button for assistance as the baby is taken from me. Echo grabs hold of him and walks out as hands are pushed on Cleo’s now non-reactive chest.
They push, pump, and then they shock.
“Her heart…” is all I hear above the ringing in my ears, my selective hearing turned on.
“Non-responsive.”
“Keep going.”
“Don’t stop. Bring her back.”
“Her heart…”
This goes on for what feels like hours when in reality it’s only minutes, and then I hear the doctor say, “Time of death…” And now I know they’ve tried to revive her for longer than thirty minutes, and they’re calling it.
3
Darby
“You got this,” I tell myself out loud as I push up from my very comfortable bed at two in the morning. It’s the same mantra I say to myself every two hours of every day when Charles—my baby—decides to wake up. My eyes are sore, my brain doesn’t function, but somehow I seem to be on autopilot. I have been for two months now, that’s how long it’s been since I walked out of that hospital room as they covered Cleo for the last time.
I never realized I could feel so much pain for someone I barely knew, but she was someone who also gave me the greatest gift on earth, so I guess in a way I was thankful and mourning what could have been at the same time.
The big kicker, though, the surprise, was that she had it all planned down to every last detail. The day I took Charles home, a delivery man was standing in wait.
All that money I gave her, she used it for our baby. Every last cent. She bought everything I will ever need for him. Then she had it arranged to be delivered to me. I was angry at first, mad she’d given up before the fight ever truly began. I’ll never actually understand why she did it, and I’m guessing that the letter sitting in Charles’s drawer may reveal the answers I seek. T
here’s one addressed to me as well as him—I haven’t touched either envelope. I’m not ready.
My hands reach for my screaming son. Charles instantly goes quiet when I touch him. His little hands reach out to my face as I lay him on the change table.
“We really need to break this cycle, little man. Times are a changing, and I can’t keep doing this.” He offers me a smile, and my heart instantly melts. How is that possible, to be so dog tired and the minute he smiles I feel anything but? “Okay, okay, you can have a bottle, then let’s go to bed.”
The nurse told me not to co-sleep. I tried that, but he seems to sleep better when he’s next to me, and to be honest, I sleep more easily when he’s next to me. I pick him up and open one of his drawers, and the scrawled writing catches my eye every single time.
What did she write?
Did she explain it all in great detail?
Or will it simply be another one of her tricks that I’m not ready to deal with?
I grab his bottle from the warmer, while he tries to reach out but can’t quite manage it yet. Walking back to my bed, my phone lights up, and I see Falcon’s name flash on the screen.
“Like clockwork,” he hums into the phone.
“What do you want?”
“Look, I grew a pair, and I’ve been elected the one to tell you. You need to come back to the club. We need you here.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is, you need a sitter.”
“No.”
“Too bad. I’ve already organized four girls, and they will meet us in our office today at nine. Don’t be late, or I’ll hire one myself without your input.” He hangs up and leaves me sitting here.
Honestly, I thought the only thing I ever cared about in life was work. How fucking wrong I was. What I care for most right now is asleep on my chest, and his little hands are clinging to my shirt. He’s all that matters, and I’ll only accept the best. There are no compromises when it comes to my son.
“Give Raven the baby.”
Raven offers me a small smile as she looks to me.
Falcon, on the other hand, is pointing with a stern expression of ‘do it right now’ on his face.
“The baby has a name, asshole.”
“Give Charles to Raven.”
“I’ll take really good care of Charles, you don’t have to worry,” she says quietly.
I pass a sleeping Charles to her, and she instantly begins rocking him in her arms and making sure his blanket is well wrapped over him.
“He’s so beautiful.”
“No ideas, woman,” Falcon says shaking his head.
She answers him but doesn’t look up. “Oh, ideas are already formed, man,” she emphasizes the word, giving it straight back to him.
“Hurry up, let’s get this over with and pick a nanny before you make my woman even cluckier.” We start walking off as Falcon throws over his shoulder, “I’m down for the practice tonight.” He laughs as we walk into my office.
I’ve been neglecting this place. My life has become way too busy with my son to worry about how everything’s going here. I shouldn’t be like that, this life supports him, and I will need a job to be able to give him the best of everything he will ever want and to leave him a legacy.
“You didn’t pick strippers, did you?”
“No, though I contemplated it. Creed may have threatened to off me when I did, though.”
I nod my head, sitting at my office desk. “At least someone has sense. Who picked the women?”
“El did.”
Creed’s other half, the only one who he truly lets in. He would murder every single soul on this planet if it made her happy. Plus, they’ve recently had a baby, so her judgment I trust more than the others’ as she’s been a lifesaver through all this. When I first took Charles home, she came over every day to help me. I owe her a lot.
“Good, send the first one in.”
He walks out and steps in with a small brunette. She blows gum into a bubble, and it pops before she notices me. I think she’s embarrassed because she smiles a grimace as she sits down.
“No,” I say looking to Falcon who’s shaking his head.
“Lou, why don’t you tell him what you do?” Falcon ignores me, while she looks between us both with a startled stare.
“I run a day care.”
“That’s nice. Now, next.”
Falcon shakes his head and guides her out.
When he returns, he’s by himself. “What the actual fuck was wrong with her?”
“She’s young and silly. Not happening.”
Falcon runs his hand through his hair and walks out. He steps into my office with another girl, who’s just as young as the first one, and I shake my head, confirming another absolutely not.
He goes to open his mouth as Ma walks in—Creed’s mother.
“Five days a week for the next few months,” she says, her eyes pinning me. “Then you have to find someone else.”
I nod, she smiles and steps over kisses my cheek and walks out, just like that.
“She wasn’t even one of the ladies El chose,” Falcon groans.
Ma has been the best woman in my life since I was a scrawny teenager. I trust my son’s life with her, she’s the perfect fit. At least for a few months anyway, until I can work out something else.
Ma walks back in with Charles in her arms. “You work. I’m going shopping, and I’ll take Charles with me.”
“Car seat,” I say standing.
“Have one,” she replies.
“Blanket.”
Her eyes narrow at me. “I’ve raised a baby before, Darby, now stop stressing. And if I need anything, I will call you.” I step over, kissing Charles’s forehead before they walk out.
“You’re a real bitch now, aren’t you?” I slap the back of Falcon’s head as Echo and Creed walk in. They each slap the back of his head as well for good measure before they all take a seat in my office.
“You’ve been absent, so some of the staff has changed,” Echo says pulling out a file and placing it on my desk. “Johnny had to leave and won’t be back for at least another two to three months, so we had to replace him, fast.”
Johnny runs the bar, has done for a long time. I trust him down there and know when he’s on, shit runs smoothly. This is not good.
“Okay, so who do you have?” I open the file and a smiling woman looks up at me. In her photograph she has aqua-colored hair and bright pink lips.
“Tell me her hair still isn’t blue.”
Falcon laughs. “Oh, it is. Told you he wouldn’t be impressed.” His smile doesn’t fade as I look up to Creed who’s more than likely the one responsible for hiring her.
“She’s discreet and good at what she does. Johnny recommended her.”
“Okay, I get it, she’s fine. But she needs to change her hair.”
“Not going to happen. Tried that.”
I groan. “Why won’t she change her hair color?”
Falcon laughs louder. “She told Creed the drapes need to match the carpet.” Falcon hits the desk as he laughs even harder. I cringe, knowing if she said that to Creed, he would have instantly walked the other way. “And then Creed looked shocked and walked away so quickly it killed me. I laughed for fucking ages, and now he won’t even speak to her,” Falcon says confirming my theory.
I look up at Creed, and he shrugs.
“Her name is Olympia? Is that a fake name?”
“No, it’s real. Olympia Cavanagh is her full name.”
“Anything else?” I ask checking through her file.
“Yes, but that’s the main issue, the rest we handled.”
I nod. They all get up and start to leave as the lights downstairs start to dim. I step over to my window—the one where only I can see down but they can’t see up—and that’s when I see her. Olympia. She’s at the bar, her bright aqua-colored hair is the length of her shoulders. She’s singing, I think, as she washes the glasses, dancing.
; Very unprofessional.
4
Olympia
They say when life gives you lemons you should make lemonade. Yeah, well fuck that lemonade, I want vodka instead. Okay, I take that back. I should just make lemonade because, I mean, that’s what my papa would want for me, to be a good little wholesome girl and make lemonade. Not the girl who works in a place where they sell sex, and God only knows what else. And what fucking great sex there is in this place, it’s even given me ideas. And the owners, let’s not get me started on the owners. Johnny pre-warned me they were delectable, and he was not joking. They are, and so much more. Though, I’m yet to meet one. The one which Falcon described as the big boss. If he is the big boss, I wonder why he hasn’t been here for two weeks?
“Enjoy your day, sweetheart.” Creed’s mother walks by with a baby in her arms. She’s nice, way nicer than her son, which, by the way, I don’t have any idea how she could possibly be his mother because that man is scary.
“The boss is back. So, best behavior, blue,” Falcon says walking past.
I flip him off, making him laugh.
“Do that to him, I dare you. Actually, I’ll fucking pay you to,” he yells over his shoulder. I turn to where Falcon looks before he walks off again, and a man is standing there, dressed immaculately in a suit, but his eyes stare me down.
“You need to change your hair.”
Jesus! If a man had the power to drop you to the floor with his voice alone, this man has that power, plus, let’s not forget the looks. But his words, well, I don’t agree with them, and he says it as if he isn’t leaving room for me to argue—he obviously doesn’t know me.
I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s not going to happen. I was hired with blue hair, I’ll be fired with blue hair.”
He shakes his head. “Get the fuck out then.”
I’m shocked, but I won’t argue, especially since he’s the boss. I grab my purse and push past him to walk out. My name is yelled, but I have no reason to answer.
Echo jumps in front of me, his hands touching my shoulders. He’s the nice one I’ve come to realize. “Ignore him, you’re not fired.”