by Brynn Hale
Then, I found out I was pregnant, the real eye opener on how I’d treated myself to bad luck. I considered my options and eventually, I realized what my heart was saying. I didn’t regret my choice, but I knew how hard the choice really was. Having Riley meant dropping out of college to find a full-time job and putting the dream of having a child ahead of having a degree.
I have two other people who take care of Riley on an emergency basis, but my sister Carmen works Sundays at the hospital and a toddler is a challenge for my mom and I worry about her the way it is. At almost sixty, she’s an option when it’s an hour for a doctor’s appointment, but not for eight-plus hours.
I stare at Zale. “Zale, what do you have going on tomorrow?”
He doesn’t turn, just keeps cleaning. “Taking Rebel to the batting cages and then Daddy and Me dance classes with Roxie.”
Those were family. They came first.
I texted Snake, my favorite and fellow bartender.
Rissa: Any chance you can cover for me tomorrow night?
I know that the third bartender, Terrance, can’t do it. He spends the day with the youth group at his church on Sundays, and I won’t contact Kim, the other female bartender. I won’t. Please, Snake. I finish up stocking. The phone buzzes and I jump.
Snake: No, can do, babe. Have day two of trials with the GSGMC.
I have to think for a moment. GSGMC? And then I put it together—Graffiti Street Guardians Motorcycle Club. I know how much becoming a member of the club means to Snake. He first started going by the creative animal moniker when he began “drilling” with the motorcycle club. Zale told us to use the new name and forget the name we knew him by before. I liked his real name—Jason Crue. I’m not sure why he had to change it, but I support him no matter what. Even if it means I have to contact…ugh…Kim.
Rissa: Hello. Would you be able to switch Sunday for Tuesday night with me? Babysitter crapped out.
I have Monday and Tuesday off. I’d ask Mom or Carmen to take Riley Tuesday for me.
Kim: No.
And that was Kim. She never switched, but asked others to do it and we all did. That would now stop.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Leif asks, stacking the stools for the cleaning crew to come in and do their job. We always do what we can to make it easier for them and Leif tends to lend us a hand when he’s still here.
I wait for the last two guests to file out and Zale heads to the office to close up the business side. The event had been a closed to the public event. The new bouncer and Zale’s new friend, Vice, gives me a nod before heading out and locking the door behind him. We really didn’t need the bouncer part in him, other than to tell people it was a closed event when they tried to come in.
It’s just Leif and me. “My babysitter can’t sit tomorrow night. I’ve asked everyone and there’s no one who can switch or watch her. I might have to use one of those emergency sitter services that cost a fortune. I really can’t afford it, but I can’t afford not to work or get fired either. There goes my savings, not that double digits is really savings.”
I only have a hundred dollars in my account to last the week, after paying my rent and all my bills. Diapers and food are a large portion of that amount. I’ve looked into going back to school and finishing up but how can I? I can’t afford to do it.
But I can’t afford not to do it, too.
“How about Kim?” he asks.
I flip my phone around and he reads it.
“That’s not cool. Didn’t you just trade with her when she needed last week?”
“Yes.”
He shakes his head and finishes stacking stools. He cleans up the pool table and brings the darts to the counter and I put them back in the cup next to the register.
Leif steps behind the bar. He’s allowed there after hours. “Why don’t I take care of him for you?”
I laugh. “Right. That’s what you want to do with your Sunday evening. Funny, Leif.”
He steps closer. “I mean it.”
“First, she’s a her.”
“Oh, sorry. Her. I can babysit. I have a child. You don’t trust me?”
I don’t trust many men these days, Leif.
I look at him and the soft smile on his face is welcoming. I want to sink into it, feel his warmth in my soul, but this isn’t cool. Sure, he’s Zale’s friend and he’s a nice guy, but he’s also a customer who has repeatedly asked me out, albeit in really cute ways.
I glance back over my shoulder as I shove the money into a cash bag for Zale to count. “You don’t want to be taking care of a two-year-old. She puts her fingers in her nose and then tries to put them in my mouth and laughs about it. She’s quite sadistic for how young she is.”
He chuckles.
I add, “Plus, Zale has a rule about employees and—”
“He broke that rule, Rissa.” He steps closer. “What’s her name?”
I swallow at how close he is. I feel like he’s already holding me and we’re not even touching. I don’t raise my eyes. I can’t. There’s too much at stake here.
I whisper, “Riley Lane.”
“Pretty name.” His hand raises my chin. “Come on…”
“But—”
“Please, let me help you. I can see how much you give to others. It’s time someone gave to you.”
“And what will I owe you?” I found with most guys there was a tally of things they’d done that were nice, that related to a list of things they wanted from a woman. Tits for tat in their minds.
“One date?” It’s a question, but it’s not anything but something I shouldn’t give him in my mind.
“I can’t…” I’m hiding behind the policy, but I need to protect mine and Riley’s hearts and if I need to use some long-forgotten policy to do it, then that’s what I’ll do.
His hand grasps my waist, softly and his hand brushes the wisps of hair that have come out of my ponytail during the night. “Please.”
“Leif…”
“God, I want to kiss you so bad.”
My heart pounds until my ears whoosh with the sound. “Please don’t.” My voice betrays me as it wobbles out of my mouth, but my body sinks into his betraying what I’m trying so hard to fight.
He’s so solid. Firm. Unwavering.
“Okay, I won’t. But I will take care of Riley.”
My eyes fill with tears and I bite my lip to stop it from quivering. I close my eyes as his lips press to my forehead.
His voice comes out like silk, covering me in his comfort. “Rissa, I promise, I can do this. I can help you. Please…” I open to see his hazel eyes sparkling like a shooting star in the neon bar signs.
I make a wish on him.
I step back and he wipes a tear that I’ve let fall over the edge. I’ve gotten good at keeping the waterfall inside of me.
“I start at six.”
“Your address?” He steps back and holds out his phone to me. “Code’s 0811.”
“Your birthday?” I ask.
“No, the day I took my last drink.”
“Oh.” I sometimes forget that he’s a recovering alcoholic. I put my phone number in his phone and use it to call myself.
“I’ll be there at five-thirty, so you can show me her routine and the ropes.”
I don’t have a choice.
But inside, I’m not sure I want to choose anything else either.
My choice…is Leif.
Four
Leif
I have Sunday’s off. I’m solid with this. My team needs to have down time and in the height of the season, which just ended since it’s November now, we’re working ten-hour days, six days a week.
I ran by Tracie’s and just finished throwing around a football with Dillon for a couple hours while she and Guy went shopping. Dillon and Skye start playing, and I walk inside, my t-shirt wrapped thrown over my shoulder.
“Leif! Put your clothes on.”
“I’m not naked, Tracie.”
Guy looks up from his copy
of the Wall Street Journal and you know how I know he’s boring as fuck? That. That right there. Who reads that tiny ass writing for pleasure?
But for some reason I feel a little judged by him…or admired. Either way it’s fucking creepy.
The back door slams. Dillon walks the hallway, tossing the football in the air.
“Hey, buddy. Come here.” Guy motions Dillon over.
No one calls him “buddy,” but me…and maybe Hemi. And Cray. And Copper. And Zale. And Leif. Just not you, Polo shirt guy.
“I bought you something today.” Guy pulls a bag from under the coffee table and on the outside has that iconic apple with the bite out of it.
That better not be a phone.
Nope. It’s a tablet. Just as bad…or worse. I don’t know, but I don’t like it.
“Trac, can I talk to you?” I say as calm as possible. “In private.”
Dillon’s gaze shoost to us. We keep our shit locked down when we’re around him, but he’s come to know that “in private” means we’ll be less than calm.
“It’s okay, buddy.” I smile, but Dillon’s face doesn’t change.
“You wanna open it and see what we can download?” Guy asks him and Dillon’s eyes still stay planted on us.
“Okay.” He relents and sits next to Guy.
In her bedroom, I notice that she’s painted, and everything is different.
It has been three years…
Three years that I was in a fog. I lost time with Dillon and I lost time with life and the years before that when I’d been reckless. I never physically cheated on Tracie, but I now understood how I cheated on our happiness.
“I went to the parent-teacher’s conference on Thursday. Dillon needs a tutor in math and English.”
She crosses her arms and her thin lips purse. “This again…” She huffs. “That teacher just doesn’t know how to teach him. He’s creative and a free spirit. He needs time. He’ll catch up.”
“No, I saw his daily work. He’s missing some fundamentals. I’ll pay for it.”
“I have money, but I also get to have a say for what we expose Dillon to.”
“Expose? What’s that mean?”
“It means that he’s been through a lot of bullshit in his life, so I try not to upset him and cause further upheaval in his life. He’s been upset enough in his life and we don’t need to be adding more to that.”
More upset, by me. That is the insinuation and I have to accept that part—most—of what she’s saying is true.
“How about we try it for one month, just twice a week? The teacher gave me the name of someone, a girl from the local college, Cami. She’s really good with the kids and they play games to learn. She’s getting a degree to be a teacher.”
“Fine, but it has to be on your days, not mine.”
“Okay.”
“And if he tells me he doesn’t like it…”
“We’ll discuss it.”
“No. We’ll end it.”
I run a hand through my hair, settling the strands off to the side. “And when it comes to that tablet…”
She walks out before I can say more. I blow out a long breath. That was an improvement, believe it or not. We didn’t yell and I didn’t storm out. Maybe this will work out in the end.
Yeah right.
I say my goodbyes while Guy continues to instruct Dillon on how to use the tablet and how to keep his hands clean to not get it dirty. He’s not as bad as I thought, but he’s…different than I thought also. My gut says one thing, but I could be very wrong. I’ve been surprised by people before.
I’m outside when I hear a voice calling me from next door.
“Leif!” The tiny redhead bounds down the stairs, her pigtails bouncing back and forth. “I…I made you something.”
I fumble to put my shirt back on feeling the weight of an eight-year-old stare and it makes me about as uncomfortable as Guy looking at me.
“Hey, Skye. Thanks.” I hold up the folded piece of paper and she scuttles back into her house with a flapping hand wave. I open the paper and my stomach clenches. Along with about a thousand drawn hearts it says:
Dear Leif,
I like you. A lot.
Do you like me?
___ Yes
___ Sorry, but I don’t like you that way.
___ Other
P.S. Please don’t let Hemi see this. I don’t think he’d like it.
<3 Skye
I shake my head. Not sure what Other would be, other than Hemi will not be happy, she’s right there. She’s sweet, but I’m definitely not in any of those categories. Hemi and I need to have a talk, Skye.
I shower and get ready to go over to Rissa’s. She doesn’t live in a great part of Kildare and I’m not happy about it.
There’s no buzz-in security door on her apartment building, so I walk up to her door on the second floor and knock. I hear the happy squeals of a toddler inside and the soft jangle of a hand on the door handle. I smile, imagining she’s looking through the peephole.
The door opens and she’s all done up for work—a black t-shirt that’s torn at the collar, exposing that bone I’d love to skim my lips over. A thick black necklace that wraps close to her neck and has a skull in the middle. Tight black jeans skim over every curve like she had them specifically made for her form. And…those boots. From day one, I’d gotten a semi just looking at them. Metal and leather laced up to her calves.
“I like those boots.”
“Thanks. Come in.” She motions me into the tiny apartment.
“Hello.” I lean in and kiss her cheek, lingering close to smell her scent. Tonight, it’s dark and ominous. I’m not sure why the change from her usual exotic floral scent is deeper and I have to walk away to stop my brain from thinking about it too much.
The place is four rooms the size of closets. I’m shocked, but I try to keep my cool. Actually, I’m almost mad. And not at her, but at life, for her. And a little at the asshole who left her, but sometimes that was for the best. She’s sweet and smart and lovely and honest and deserves so much more. And she also looks happy, something I can’t say I always am, so maybe it’s not where you’re living at, but how you’re living life that matters. I need to think about that more.
“You’re sure about this?” she asks.
I remember last night and how it felt to hold her. I want to pull her close and hug her and reassure her. But I don’t. She’s standing as far away as she can from me in the small room. Her eyes wide, like a wild animal tonight, like she’s ready to skit away at the first sign of trouble, and that sensual and mysterious scent reiterates my thoughts.
I just ignore the question and go to where Riley is sitting on the floor. She looks up at me with round, dark blue eyes. They’re not like Rissa’s honey-brown ones. I’d say Riley got those killers from her father. I don’t want to ask, but…
“Can I ask what’s up with Riley’s dad?”
“He was out of the picture before she came into the picture.”
“Immaculate conception?”
She laughs. “No, we dated for about a year, I got pregnant, then I got smart cause I knew he was fooling around. He said he wanted nothing to do with either of us as soon as he heard the word pregnant.”
The story sounds too familiar and I cringe a little. I’m not running from Viv and Jillyn, but I wonder if I’m running from myself again and if this isn’t just another way for me to shirk responsibility in my life. I was there. I made that baby. Hell, could’ve made two babies and I’m probably fucking lucky that Jillyn’s not pregnant too. I don’t regret it. We’re all adults. Running into Viv and Jillyn in Vegas was a moment in time that I have to either accept fully or decide to step away from and let them raise that baby alone.
But if I can, shouldn’t I be a part of the baby’s life?
I squat to the floor and play with some of the soft figures Riley has in front of her, dancing them across her feet. She giggles and it draws a smile from me. I remember Dillon being th
is age and it was some of the best days of my life.
I sit down and she moves on her knees to a place between my spread legs looking up at me. I wore joggers because I wanted to be able to move quickly and comfortably. I look up and Rissa’s leaning back against the wall her arms crossed and her eyes intently watching. Caution makes her eyes darker.
I pick up a book and Riley’s eyes widen. “You like this one?”
“Read!” She plops down hard on my crotch and I have to remember that babies don’t know what they’re doing as my nuts ricochet into my throat.
“Ugh.” I grunt and adjust her just a little onto my thigh, taking a deep breath.
“You okay?” Rissa asks with a chuckle.
“All good,” I say in a high octave and Rissa rolls with laughter. Rissa’s laughter is like listening to my favorite song on the perfect spring day, my son telling me about his best day, and me feeling in the zone when I’m working—all wrapped up into one. Her daughter mimics her in a copycatting way, making me laugh, too.
After a couple of books and the little one’s insistent direction that I re-read the first book about a hundred times, I lift her to her feet and stand.
“Okay, give it to me…” I motion to Rissa, asking her to do the tour and directions.
Her hooded eyes soften. She steps forward toward me, her hands pressing into my chest and I close my eyes as she leans into me. Her lips press to mine softly.
Not what I meant, but I’m not going to stop her.
I slip one behind her neck, tipping her head and sliding my tongue along her lips. She opens her mouth and I taste the sweetness that I always knew was inside of her. Even if the outside is a little stressed and closed off, she’s sugar and spice inside. I slip another hand onto her back, low. My pinkie pops into the gap on the back of her jeans, just grazing the crest of her crack. That luscious full ass of hers is my kryptonite. It’s curves for days.
“Iley ungry.” A little voice breaks into the moment.
“I think she said she’s hungry,” I say as I pull away slowly, touching my head to Rissa’s.