by RJ Scott
“Let her go,” he demanded and rose to his full height, which was a good six inches over me, all muscles and fierce intent.
“Let me take her,” I pleaded.
Simon slid to the floor laughing so hard that he couldn’t breathe, and I was on the edge of running from the house, babe in arms, screaming.
Colorado held up a hand. “Dude, my name is Colorado Penn, I’m the freaking starting goalie for the Arizona Raptors hockey team. I’m sure my friend Buick was drunk, but the white stuff was from the thirty sugar donuts he ate. There are no drugs in my house now, so give me back my baby.”
Five
Colorado
Generally, the temper I’d inherited from my daddy would’ve flared up right about now.
We Penns had trouble with people walking over us like we were doormats. That feistiness, as Alchemy liked to call it, could run in two streams. Stream number one was a gentle little babbling brook that carried upset, cares, and irritation away like a fall leaf that just happened to tumble into said brook. Stream two was a flood-swollen river of anger that led to broken trees and bloody noses. Thanks to my grandmother, I recognized those divergent waterways and could, when given time to center, be the leaf. Today, thanks to a call from Alchemy saying she was in Ohio and would arrive within the week if the tires on her VW van held up, I was feeling like the babbling brook.
Also, it didn’t hurt that the manny was cute as shit in a totally nerdy Bill Nye sort of way. I mean, come on, the guy was in frumpy cargo shorts and a tee with a big image of Marvin the Martian. I was ignoring Simon, the newly hired security man that the Raptors had crammed into my personal space like an enema.
“Manny Dude,” I began with after I took a long cleansing breath.
“Joseph, my name is Joseph.”
“That is a righteous name. So, Manny Joe, I assure you the only gangs around here are the Lollipop Guild that are singing to Dorothy out on the big screen.” I hooked a thumb at the living room area then gave him my best smile. It seemed to have little effect on him as it did most of the other human beings I shared it with. “I know it looks harsh in here, and that’s because the cleaning service is late, but nothing or nobody here is going harm my baby, including me or my band mates.” At that I flung a glare at Simon who was slowly gathering his enormous self.
Joe glanced at me then Simon then me again, his grip on my daughter gentle but protective. Fiercely so. Which made me feel that this man was a good choice to help with Madeline when I was gone. I wanted someone who would throw themselves in front of a bus to keep her safe. Just as I would.
“What kind of mad house is this, exactly?” Joe asked as he gently passed my girl back to me.
Could have been I’d broken through his concern. Or it could’ve been that Simon the human Sequoia had walked up behind me.
“It’s a home in transition,” I explained as I placed my baby into the infant sling that seemed to be part of my permanent wardrobe now. Joe’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah, I know, it looks like a fun house but I swear things are not as they seem. Come on in, have a seat. Let’s do this over.”
I padded bare-footed into the music room, one of my favorite places in this mausoleum of a mansion I’d bought with all that Raptor cash. The recording studio in the basement was another fun place to hang, second only to the music room and my bedroom, but my knowledge of how to mix records was minimal.
I heard Joe’s creaky leather sandals a moment later.
“Have a seat,” I waved at one of several couches spaced around the band’s practice instruments and a baby grand. I threw a leg over the piano bench and got situated. Maddie whined and whimpered, her cheeks still red from her earlier screaming spell. “Sometimes when she’s wound like that she digs music. Which really proves that she’s mine.” I laid my fingers to the keyboard and began playing a lullaby. Her fidgeting slowed, her arms and legs relaxing. I pressed a kiss to her fuzzy head. “I discovered this a few nights ago when she was raging. Like, nothing I did eased her. Bottle, clean diaper, nothing. So we walked. Ended up in here and I figured why not? Music soothes the savage beast so it should soothe an irate baby.”
Joe didn’t sit down. He circled the black Steinway like a worried mama bear. “You’re not at all what I expected,” he confessed as he ran a hand over the top of the piano.
“Yeah, of that I am sure.” A wild-haired inked up goalie with a nose ring and several toe rings, who was running on two hours of sleep in the past three days. Who would have envisioned that? Maddie yawned softly. Joe smiled and I returned it. His cuteness factor grew by ten thousand when he smiled. I hoped he did that more often. “This whole dad thing was like an ACME anvil, right?”
I moved from a lullaby to Aerosmith’s “Angel” which I had taken to singing to her as well. She loved Aerosmith. Just like her dad.
“As in it fell out of the sky on your head unannounced.” He stood there, arms folded, watching as I played.
“Totally like that. One day I’m a footloose pan dude loving and living the rock and roll hockey life, the next I’m a father. Talk about a radical wake-up call. Anyway, children’s services are now involved, and even though I’m her father legally, almost, and biologically, for sure, they’re stomping the states in search of her mother. She has to give up custody or something. I don’t know. My head is muzzy. Too little sleep and too many powdered doughnuts. Bottom line is that I need help here at home and I need it, like yesterday. We’re heading to Dallas in two days for the western division finals and I need certified childcare or they’ll take her back.”
“And that’s me?”
“Yeah, well, I hope so. You’re ridiculously cute, insanely protective, and come highly recommended. I’ll pay you whatever you want.” He gaped then snorted. “No, man, I’m totally serious. My whole hockey career is hanging by a thread. If I show up in Dallas like this,” I waved a hand at my pitiful self. “Coach will put my ass on the bench again. The owners will waiver me or something.”
“So are you a hockey player or a musician?” He crept around the piano to peek at Maddie who was sleeping peacefully while drooling steadily all over my chest.
“I’m both, winter goalie and summer rocker. We’re cutting a new album as soon as the season is over, so you’ll see my band mates a lot.” That brought the worried creases back. “No need to stress it. Simon is here to run the place like a boot camp. No booze, no drugs, no sexual escapades, no parties, no emus…”
“Emus?”
“Yeah, long story. Side B is that I want to do my best to be the father Maddie needs and the courts want to see. I need someone to help me walk the good daddy walk. You and Simon, as much as he annoys me, will do that.”
“The two of you stood in the hallway yelling at each other with a baby in the middle, that isn’t anywhere near trying to be a good dad.”
“Rome wasn’t built in a day, dude.”
“I’m reserving judgment,” he muttered, and didn’t take his eyes off Maddie.
“Does that mean you’re planning to stay? I’ll give you whatever you want. Money is not a problem. Gifts. Dude, see that blue Gibson on that stand beside the drums? Signed by Slash. Yours if you want it.”
“I don’t play guitar and I have no idea who Slash is.”
My fingers stalled. Maddie Boo snuffled. I resumed playing, this time Poison’s “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” to keep the mellow mood.
“Dude, you’re woefully out of touch with the greats of metal and rock. We’ll fix that. So, yeah, what say you? I’ll pay you two grand a week.”
His light blue eyes widened. “Two thousand a week?”
“Not enough? Three grand a week. Travel expenses are all on me when we go anywhere and you come along. Uhm, what else? Oh, yeah, the Gibson. Or that bass signed by Gene Simmons.”
He stared at me dully. Did he not know who Gene Simmons was or was he stunned stupid by the salary I’d offered. At this moment I’d have paid him ten grand a week if he would care for my baby so I could sleep.
So much was riding on me and my performance as a father, a goalie, and a musician. I couldn’t fuck this up.
“Don’t you want to read over my credentials before you decide on a permanent childcare provider?”
God, he was cute. Such a clean-cut sort of Steve Rogers-before-the-serum vibe humming around him. Was he into dudes? Would that be on his résumé? If so, then yes I wanted to see his credentials as well as his dick.
Yo, asshole, you’re slipping into Liberty mode.
“Shit, yeah, sorry,” I coughed as my mind returned to my new life. “Sorry, yeah, I’m totally into seeing your credentials. I should have asked before but you were tossing around attitude like old women in the park chuck bird seed to the pigeons. Also, lack of sleep has made my brain goop. Like, in all honesty, I couldn’t remember my middle name when I was talking to my lawyer this morning.” I snorted in amusement at my bone-weary baked brain.
“The service should have sent them over via email, but I can tell you the gist of it.”
“Cool, gist all over me, man,” I mumbled as my fingers moved across the keys all by themselves.
Maddie was sound asleep, her tiny body all snug and warm next to my chest. I closed my eyes, inhaled, and sighed at the scent of baby shampoo. I wasn’t sure who her mama was but she and I had made one gorgeous kid. In a mere two weeks, I’d fallen so in love with my daughter it was frightening. I mean, I thought I’d loved other people, lots of them of every shape, color, age, and gender or non-gender. I worshipped my grandmother and felt a sharp sense of brotherhood with my teammates. I’d even cared deeply for a few people in that meaningful way one does another person. But never had I felt a bond like this. It scared the living hell out of me. Was it like this for all parents? Would it dwindle over time? Must be that it did. Why else would Liberty have pulled that big walk, leaving me with Alchemy when I was six? I’d have to be on the lookout for that dip in affection and when it hit I’d need to do something, somehow, to love her with more—
“… planetarium didn’t understand the importance of proper planetary placement. Are you listening to me?” Joe asked, his pink lips flattening.
“Sure! The planetarium wasn’t cool with your planets?” He frowned. Fuck, that was even cute. “I’m sorry. I’m about to crash here. Can you give me the basics?”
“I helped my sister raise her daughter. I still live with them. I’ve taken all the required courses online such as positive discipline, water awareness, stress management, safety in the home, food safety, sleep training, brain development, trends in childcare, and gender-neutral parenting. I also have my CPR and water safety certification.”
“Dude, I’m impressed. And you study space too?” He nodded, looking pleased with himself and his studies. He should’ve been. I’d barely gotten through college. All I’d wanted to do was make music and play hockey. “I’m sold. The Westman-Reids totally vouched for your agency, and Simon has already run a criminal check on you and your family. When can you start?”
“Rushing things, aren’t we?” Simon said. I hadn’t even heard him come into the room.
“You ignoring the rules, and you and your security shouting in the hall, is that a thing?” Joe crossed his arms over his chest, and I wasn’t sure that we had him squared away. I didn’t like the prison guard vibe, but for Maddie Boo I would do anything.
Simon moved to where I could see him, and we locked gazes. I knew what he was asking, that I don’t leave the gates open, or let my bandmates in, or one of a hundred other things I was fucking up. He raised an eyebrow.
“It won’t happen again,” I said. “So when can you start?”
He paused for the longest time. “Time off for my family, a proper contract, and I can start now… I guess.”
“Sweet.” I stood, the last notes I’d played dying away as I wiggled my sleeping daughter out of the sling and placed her into Joe’s nicely defined arms. “The nursery is upstairs. Can’t miss it, it’s all yellow and white with bright blue, green, red, and purple polka dots. Some friends of mine came over with samples and they just went mad. You can put her down for a nap, yeah?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll give you a two-week trial. Is that fair?” He held Madeline as if he were born to bounce a baby.
“Yep, completely fair.” We bumped elbows in lieu of shaking as his hands were full of the most precious cargo on the planet.
He walked off, my girl in his arms, and I threw myself onto the gold couch with a groan that usually only escaped me when I was busting a nut. The cushion smelled of cheap beer, cigarette smoke, and salmon fritters. Didn’t matter. I closed my eyes and was asleep instantly, my dreams centered on my baby girl and the intriguing man who had the soul of a mama grizzly and eyes as pure blue as a spring sky.
Six
Joseph
I wasn’t sure what had happened. Somehow I’d agreed to two weeks, and now I was standing in the middle of a color explosion. The nursery wasn’t rocking the pastel shades at all, no gentle lemon bunnies or pale pink teddies. It looked as if someone had just randomly painted shapes everywhere. At first I winced, but when the initial shock passed I realized the dots made patterns and numbers, and the bright colors would be wonderful when Madeline Celeste could really make them out.
“Ryker and Alex did it,” Simon said from the door. I’d sensed him following me upstairs, so I assume I was the new big worry in his life. On top of security gates being open, and that weird guy at the bar with the white powder, Buck, or Buick, or something?
“Who?” I turned to face him and he filled the doorway without much room to spare.
“Team mates of Colorado’s at the Craptors, sorry, Raptors. I need to stop calling them that, but I’m a Boston fan to the core.” He thumped his chest, which I guess was his way of underscoring the sentiment. I’d never followed organized sports and chest-thumping wasn’t something we did in science club; the odd semi-ironic eureka! every so often, but no chest-thumping.
“Oh.” I swung back to stare at the wall, making out the numbers three and zero. “It’s actually very clever and you know, although an infant's color vision is not as sensitive as ours, it’s generally accepted that babies have good color vision by five months of age. I’m guessing that Madeline Celeste is what, a month?”
“Maddie,” Simon corrected and came into the room. Thankfully it was a big room with a vaulted ceiling space and cross beams that would look fabulous with hanging mobiles, and maybe some stars. “That’s what C calls her. Maddie. Sometimes Maddie Boo—where that comes from I don’t know.”
“Okay then.” There was another door from the room and I opened it, aware that Simon was right up close. The door led to a bathroom unlike anything I’d seen before. There was a sunken bath, a triple-sized shower, the gleam of steel, and so many mirrors I could see myself and Maddie to infinity. On one side there was a long wide cabinet that had been dragged in, given the dent in the wall, and on top of that was a changing mat, and a pile of supplies. The two sinks were enormous—easily big enough to bathe a baby, and the pile of fluffy towels in ten different rainbow colors were above the sink on a shelf. I headed back out, Simon blocking my way momentarily before stepping to one side. I guess it was a show of who was in charge but I wasn’t going to confront him and push the matter. I wasn’t there to cause a problem, I was there to solve one.
There was a mattress on the floor, with two pillows and I assume that Colorado had been sleeping in with Maddie, at least it appeared that way.
“So the background check. Parents situated in Florida, and you have one sibling, a sister,” Simon summarized. I’d not thought about Mom and Dad in a while—we weren’t close, a combination of Natalie falling pregnant outside of marriage, me being gay, and them being evangelical nuts. Their loss, because they’d never met their only granddaughter, Emma, and she was freaking awesome.
“Natalie.”
“And she’s a single mom.”
The way he said it put my back up. “And evidently your client is a singl
e dad.”
“I meant no offense, sorry, it’s just… you’re an uncle—”
“Emma, who’s five, her dad is deceased, cancer. Any more questions?”
Maddie stirred in my arms, her tiny mouth opening in a yawn, and her free fist batting at my shirt. She didn’t wake fully though, and I stepped around Simon to get to the crib. Carved and polished wood, with bright red blankets, it looked so inviting, and was certainly a step up from the drawer that we’d used for Emma just after Bobby died. Of course, as soon as we could afford it, we’d gotten her a crib, but it wasn’t as fancy as this one. I settled Maddie into her space, and tucked the blanket around her, and she didn’t fuss that she wasn’t in my arms.
“She’s had all her genetic testing,” Simon informed me, and when I looked up I could see he was reading from a clipboard.
“What? So he can decide whether he keeps her or not?”
Simon frowned as he glanced up from the list. “Huh? No. He might be a complete ass, but he loves her, and she won’t be going anywhere. It was done because we have no idea who the mom is.”
“Yeah right.” That might have been disrespectful, but Simon was as much an employee as I was.
“No, for real, we’ve narrowed it down to five possible women. It would have been twelve but he distinctly recalls seven were men. Yeah, August was a busy month. Band was on tour.”
“The hell?” I blurted, and my mouth dropped open.
“Anyway, next, she doesn’t appear to have obvious allergies, but we haven’t ruled out milk, eggs, peanuts, soy, wheat, tree nuts, walnuts, and cashews and so on, fish, and shellfish.”
“I should hope not, she’s on formula. Please tell me you haven’t given her any of those things.”
He looked affronted. “No. Obviously. But it’s an area of concern for my client, and therefore I’m covering it on the list he made. There are emergency numbers in the hall, kitchen, pool house, garden house, front room, front door, dining room, and here.” He pointed at a poster on the back of the door. The list started with doctor, pediatrician, hospital, infectious disease units, and ended with several names, Ryker and Alex being the only two I saw that I recognized as maybe the two who had decorated the room.