by Xavier Neal
Unable to resist poking the situation, I ask, “Are you pissed off some random hombre was that close to Sage or was that close to me?”
“Both.”
The lack of hesitation in his answer receives him a smile.
Holden cheeks noticeably brighten and he swallows his embarrassment.
“Greg,” I emphasize his name to watch Holden squirm, “was one of the volunteers today. He was actually really nice.” Putting my phone away, I casually add, “He gave me his number.”
“What the fuck? Why?”
“Why do you think?”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t reply.
“To see yo desnudo.”
The reddening of his face returns in a more fuming nature.
“To hear mis gemidos.”
Holden’s neck strains in irritation, but he remains silent. Keeps his quiet composure.
I give him one final push. “To watch bajate while I say his name.”
This time he noticeably growls behind his gritted teeth.
Pleased to have gotten under his skin, I state, “Tell me not to use it and I won’t.”
He instantly moves his mouth, prepared to do exactly that by the glimmer in his eyes, yet he stops. Forces himself back in his chair.
Wow…Maybe I should call him. Maybe I’m wrong about Holden and he’ll never cave. Calling Greg and taking Joanne’s unwanted advice is looking better and better.
“You know, Beth never went to shit like that for Lynk.”
And now it looks ideal.
“She couldn’t even remember to pack him diapers and underwear…” He shakes his head slowly. “But you…you remember it all.”
“It’s my job.”
“It’s more than that,” he argues. “It’s obviously more than that. Your job doesn’t require you to take them for ice cream or arrange post practice pizza nights. That’s the type of shit I imagine a mother does because she loves her children. Because she wants to make memories with them…”
I uncomfortably shift in my seat. “Okay, so I go above and más allá. Big deal.”
“It is a big deal.” Suddenly, Holden sits back up and leans forward. “At least to me it is. My kids, believe it or not, have never had someone besides me who cares this much…”
“I’m sure Beth loved them.”
“She loved herself,” he coldly grumbles. Before I have a chance to challenge or question his comment, he says, “I wanna ask you something.”
“Si?”
“Why don’t you have kids of your own?”
A wave of grief grabs me mercilessly by the throat.
“Have you just not met the right guy yet, or is it something else?”
It’s my turn to lean back in my seat and remain silent.
And now we’re back to this not being a casual conversation. Why should I let him know more than my measurements or what I want in bed? He’s not exactly opening himself up to me like we could be building something more than a couple months of fooling around. Is it a good idea or even fair to expose more of my heart to the man who already has way too much power over it?
“You know I could probably search for the answer myself,” he teases with a crooked smirk. “But I’m asking you instead.” The genuine curiosity in his tone speeds up my heartbeat. “I wanna know the real reason. Not just what I’d find in your files.”
Hope floods my eyes.
He’s attempting to make a connection with me.
He’s coming a little closer…
“Alright,” I quietly cave and steal a glance of Sage playing in the sand with another little girl. “But it’s answer for answer.”
Holden falls quiet and I instantly find it harder to breathe. He darts his attention to his little girl, gives her a small wave, and allows his eyes to fall deeper into mine. “You first.”
“Okay…” My hands pull my hair to one side of my face. “I have a difficult time getting pregnant.”
“Why?”
“I was diagnosed with polycystic ovary syndrome around 17.”
Panic paints his expression.
“Small cysts form on my ovaries creating a hormonal imbalance. My doctor recommended I start taking the pill to help deal with it and suggested I make some adjustments to my lifestyle like better eating and working out. At 17, I barely had time to remember to eat let alone eat something healthy or work out. You would think helping around the house with my brothers and sisters would’ve been enough…” I try to offer him a soothing smile, but it doesn’t budge the fear. “One of the drawbacks is having a harder time conceiving.”
“So…you’ve tried?”
“It happened once. Unplanned.”
The surprise in his eyes stiffens me.
Reluctantly, I continue, “It was after I stopped working for you. I started dating a TA that fall. It wasn’t anything serious, primarily because I had a new nanny job and traveled back home most weekends to help out. However, when I discovered I was pregnant, I was about six weeks. I thought the pills had stopped working, but when I went to the doctor and got the results, I was excited. I had spent my entire life helping raise kids and it was like finally I’ll have a chance to raise my own. To be a mother and not just a mother fill in. To care for a child that was mine….” A familiar pain settles in my chest. “He however wasn’t thrilled at all. He started shouting and breaking things. He was livid. Said I was trying to trap him. Complained he could barely afford himself and definitely not a kid. Then we started arguing about abortions and before I knew it, he shoved me. The corner of the table jabbed me in the side and he got the brilliant idea to beat it out of me.” My hands fidget with my empty container, attention doing everything it can to keep from meeting Holden’s. “Lost the baby. Had two cracked ribs and a bruised jaw...After all that, I…I gave up on the idea of having a family for myself. Once I got the all clear later that summer, I broke my lease, sold my shit, and took a job in New York filling in for a nanny who was going on maternity leave. Haven’t stopped traveling since.”
His hand unexpectedly lands on mine. I drag my eyes upward slowly taken back when I see his jaw unhinged and green gaze filled with rage. “I’ll destroy him.”
The lack of mirth in his tone soothes an inkling of the pain that lingers.
Thinking back on it doesn’t help my wandering thoughts about what would’ve happened between the two of us had he come my way instead of Beth’s. How different the past could’ve been. How Sage and Lynk could’ve been ours.
I banish the unnecessary ugliness.
All he did was follow his heart. Maybe this time he’ll follow it to me…
“I’m serious.”
“You’re not.”
“I am.”
“Holden.”
“Meena.”
I pin him with a serious look. “Let it go. I have. And I’ve moved on.”
“Did you at least send that bastard to jail?”
“He did time.”
“Years?”
“First offense, so a few months and court mandated anger management.”
Holden’s fingers flex to capture mine. “He got off light.”
My eyes try not to drink in the sight of our hands together in fear he’ll retreat. I slightly turn my left wrist to expose the blue butterfly tattoo. “That’s who this one represents…”
Unexpectedly, his free hand reaches across to give it a light caress.
It’s like he’s wishing it peace.
Like he’s wishing me peace.
The emotions become unbearable and I barely croak, “Your turn.”
He nods, fingers vanishing, but hand still linked with mine. “What do you wanna know?”
Everything.
“How’d you get into computers?”
A nostalgic look jumps onto his face. “I was in elementary school. About seven. I did everything I could to stay away from home until I absolutely had to be there. The librarian, Mr. Nobles, used to be a programmer for some big company, though he n
ever mentioned it by name, and one Wednesday afternoon I caught him in one of his weird tangents about the future of technology. He was convinced some day the entire world would be controlled by computers and the only way to prepare and possibly defend ourselves was to know everything about how they functioned. He was completely out of his fucking mind, but he took me under his wing. During recesses after lunch, I would sneak to the library and if there wasn’t a class in there he would teach me about all the parts inside. We’d gut it and rebuild it, always better than it was. And after school, when the library was basically empty, he broke down the basics of coding, gave me books to study and taught me as much as possible.” Holden’s grin expands and the ache in my chest completely vanishes. “All of it was so easy for me to understand, it was wild. You know most people struggle to learn programming, at least in the beginning, but me? It felt like it was second nature. Learning code was the easiest thing I had ever learned in my life.”
Awe and disbelief collide. “You were only seven….”
“Guess it was just in my DNA,” he cockily jokes. I give his hand a tight squeeze and it causes a chuckle. “After a few years with Mr. Nobles, I kinda took learning into my own hands. Trial and error. Lots of experimenting. As far as building goes, I made a habit of convincing any foster family who had one to let me take it apart and make it ‘more secure’ with upgraded parts I would buy from pawn shops or computer stores.”
Helplessly, I flirt, “So basically you’ve always had a way with your fingers?”
Holden wets his lips in an enticing fashion. “Exactly.”
All of a sudden, Sage appears at the table and his hand flies away from mine. “Miss Meena, is it time to pick up Lynk yet?”
I bat away the sadness from the loss of touch. Checking my phone, I give her a prompt response. “We can get going to wait in line. I’ll let you canta las canciones he hates before he gets in the car.”
Holden pulls Sage into his lap at the same time she sings, “Glitter bug…”
Her father questions, “You mean, jitter bug?”
“Glitter bug, Daddy.”
Before this can turn into a long conversation, I interrupt, “Do you wanna meet us there?”
“Why don’t we drop off your car and just all ride together?” Our eyes lock. “How does that sound?”
Like maybe his kids aren’t the only one considering me a member of the family…
“Can we still listen to Miss Meena’s música?!”
“Of course,” he declares, standing up and immediately placing her back in his arms. “I’m sure Daddy can hack into her playlist.”
The lame joke is delivered with a wink my direction.
He’s already hacked his way into my heart, why would something as simple as my Spotify playlist ever stand a chance?
My voice can hardly stop from shaking, “You know better, Lynk! You know the rules!”
“The rules are stupid!” he shouts back from where he’s standing in the upstairs loft we turned into a playroom. “What’s so bad about me using the LIVE feature to talk to Scott while we play Space Warriors!?”
“It’s not safe!”
“You’re not safe!”
His childish, idiotic retort brings me back to the reality that I am in deed arguing with a child.
I give the scruff on my face a rub. “Lynk, you don’t understand the threats that could be lurking. You may think it’s just you and Scott, but there could be some creepy man you have no idea about, watching you.”
Which is why whenever he uses anything that requires a web cam, I monitor behind the scenes, making sure his connection is as secure as possible. Making sure the asshole who tries to join their chat conversation is actually another nine-year-old and not a forty year old hoping to lure my son into the back of his van.
The thought churns my stomach and I snap again, “You’re grounded!”
“What!”
“No video games at all for a week. And you’re not allowed to go hang out with your friends either.”
“That’s not fair!”
“And straight home after practice. No pizza pit stops!”
“Not fair!”
“What’s not fair is I trusted you and you broke the rules!”
Lynk grits his teeth at me, folds his arms, and flops down onto the edge of his bed, visibly seething.
He looks exactly like I did at that age, but his mannerisms are a carbon copy for the ones I often showcase now. It’s like looking at a pocket size, clean shaven version of myself. It’s probably the reason I have a less difficult time dealing with him rather than Sage. He has no traces of Beth physically or her personality. I’m not even sure what he remembers about her. Sadly, I hope it’s almost nothing, not only to spare him the pain that can come from memories of a lost loved one, but the pain that can from realizing they didn’t care about you as much as they pretended.
“Daddy,” Sage calls from behind me. “It’s time for my siesta.”
Her constant incorporation of Spanish brings me a much needed smile.
How much of a bastard does it make me to love the fact she sounds like Meena yet hate the fact she looks like Beth?
I give my face another scrub. “You are not to leave this room until Sage’s nap is over.”
“But-”
“No buts, Lynk. You need to sit in here and think about what you did wrong and how you can earn my trust back.”
My son glares like he’s mentally giving me the finger.
He’s my kid.
He probably is.
Without another word I shut the door behind me and let out a deep sigh.
Fuck, parenting is hard.
Sage reaches her arms upward for me to carry her. I give into her silent request and admire the creation she’s sporting with her hair. There are six ponytails in various positions and statuses around her. One is wavy, one is curled, one is braided while the others have accessories like ribbons and bows. While I want to question what the hell was Meena thinking, I know better than that at this point. She doesn’t let the kids ever do anything that would cause them actual harm. She lets them make what most people would call mistakes, but has taught me they’re just growing opportunities. She also allows for creative discovery, which is what I am assuming this monstrosity on top of my daughter’s head is.
After I’ve placed Sage in her bed, she begins collecting her favorite stuffed animals to sleep with. “Were you having fun playing with Miss Meena?”
She excitedly nods. “I love Miss Meena!”
Me too.
No.
Shit.
0.
That has to be a 0.
I can’t love her.
I shouldn’t.
My daughter offers me a bright reassuring smile like she can hear the constant cacophony going on inside my mind.
I pull her blanket over her arms, kiss her forehead, and whisper, “I love you, Sunshine.”
“I love you too, Daddy!”
Slowly, I begin walking backwards for her door, eyes entranced by the beautiful, innocent creature snuggled up against a teddy bear.
She deserves a mother and a father. They both do. And I know Meena would fit into that role easily, just like she’d fit into my arms…against my mouth….against my cock.
Closing her bedroom door, I shake my head again.
0.
Too risky. We go down that path, we fuck things up, and my kids lose the closest thing they’ve ever had to a maternal figure. As much as I want my dick touched, not at that cost.
Price is much too high.
On the way to the playroom where the Xbox One is waiting to be removed, my phone begins vibrating in my pocket. I quickly retrieve the device and am a little surprised by the name on the screen.
“Hey Arthur.”
“Holden!” Beth’s father greets cheerfully on the other end. “How are you?”
“Won’t complain.” My hands begin unplugging the console. “How are you?”
�
��Oh…you’ll never hear me complain about my life,” he joyfully says.
What’s there to complain about? He makes billions. He is a prime example of what coming from money and investing it properly looks like.