by Piper Rayne
The pang of guilt for delivering my message rudely shouldn’t bother me. What do I care if I offended him? Any father would know this car isn’t practical—not in Alaska and not for an eighteen-month-old girl. And he would’ve thought of it on his own if… I stop my train of thought. I can’t let the anger that’s yet to dissipate toward him take over.
“It’s just that—”
He holds up his hand. “I got it. I’ll switch it out.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.”
I sulk down in the seat, and we drive the rest of the way in silence. By the time we reach my apartment and park along the curb, I’m itching to get out of such close proximity with him. He helps me out of the car, which is a complete embarrassment because of how painful it is to get out of his car.
“Thank you for bringing me home,” I say once my feet land on the sidewalk.
His eyes lock with mine. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I shouldn’t have—”
“You should have. You have every right. Our daughter’s safety is the number one concern. I’m just embarrassed that I didn’t think about it myself. Do you think I’ll ever have those instincts? What if I’m just a shit dad?” He blows out a breath and pushes his hand through his hair.
Oh no, this is not how it was supposed to go. I’m supposed to hate the man in front of me. I’m not the person who should boost up his self-esteem about being a dad. Because I had all those doubts once too, but I dealt with them on my own because he wasn’t anywhere to be found.
“I think you’re a new dad and I’ve been at this for eighteen months. Don’t beat yourself up just because you picked the wrong car at the rental place.”
He nods. “Thanks. You shouldn’t have to make me feel better.”
I huff. “Well, I might still be mad at you, but I’m not a bitch either. Parenthood is hard. No one promised it was easy. You should know that too.”
“I’ll do better. I promise.” He disappears to the back of the car before I have the opportunity to say anything else.
Which is probably for the best. I don’t want to be the person who assures him he’ll be a great dad. With the way he dedicates himself to something he loves, I know he will. Maybe that scares me too. Like he’s threatening the bubble I’ve put Palmer and myself in. I’m not sure I want to make room for him. Just the thought of holidays without her grips my heart as if the Incredible Hulk is squeezing it.
“Let’s get you settled.” He holds my bags in one hand and he waits for me to slowly walk to my apartment, following.
But I can’t depend on Jamison to have my back. I made that mistake once already.
Thirteen
Jamison
I’m on my way to the rental place when my phone dings in the center console. All I catch is 911, so I pull over to the side of the road and pick it up.
It’s an unknown number, but it’s an Alaska area code.
Unknown Number: 911. Sedona needs help and needs a new breast pump. Hers is broken.
I stare at the words, trying to process who’s sending this to me. The phone vibrates in my hand and another text message pops up.
Unknown Number: Don’t skimp on the price. Imagine a suction on your penis, would you go cheap? I think not.
What the fuck? I stare at the message for some clue as to who this is, but I don’t have enough time to figure it out because they message again.
Unknown Number: Go to the baby store in town, Jamison. Ask for a breast pump. Get over to Sedona’s. Are these instructions simple enough?
I look around as if whoever the person is can see me sitting idle on the side of the road. What the hell? But Dori told me she’d convey to me anything Sedona asked her for, so it must be her, I guess. I put the car in drive and head back toward downtown Lake Starlight.
Ten minutes later, I park in the public parking lot and head inside Sweet Home Baby Boutique. It’s not until the door chimes and Mrs. Bennington peeks out of the back room that my shoulders sink. Mrs. Bennington was the next-door neighbor of my host family senior year.
After I graduated, my host family moved to Arizona to be near their son but running into Mrs. Bennington feels just as bad as hearing from Georgie. Part of me thinks I should leave and put on those pads men use for self-defense classes before walking back in here.
“Jamison Ferguson, I was expecting you.” She disappears again into the back room.
I glance around the store. Newborn clothes hang on small hangers on a display rack. I pick up one and take in how small it is. Guilt chips away at my newfound joy of being in Palmer’s life, burrowing deeper and deeper because I missed Palmer when she was that size. What kind of man am I?
“Your order was called in. We only have one available,” Mrs. Bennington says, carrying a box out of the back and setting it on the counter.
I pull out my wallet on the way to the register. “I’m glad I got the last one.”
She taps the register, never looking at me. “Two thousand five hundred dollars.”
I cough. “Excuse me?”
“What didn’t you get?” Her fingers tuck strands of red hair behind her ear.
“That’s the price of a breast pump?”
I want to say I have two hands that could pump her breasts and she’d enjoy it a lot more, but that’s not something Mrs. Bennington would appreciate—or Sedona, for that matter—so I keep that thought to myself.
“It’s hospital grade. I talked with Dori about the other ones.” She points behind me and I squint to see prices ranging from $65 to $300. “But Sedona is pumping as a favor to Holly and Austin, so this would make the most sense for a single mother of an eighteen-month-old.”
Without commenting, I pull out my credit card and hand it over.
She smiles and slides it through her machine. “Dori thought you would agree.”
“Uh-huh.”
She tears off the paper and I scribble my signature before handing it back to her.
“It’s been a pleasure. If she has any questions, please tell her to give me a call. I’m a lactation nurse as well.”
I nod. “That’s great. Thanks.”
“See you soon.”
I wave and mumble another thank you.
Once I’m back on the street, I decide to walk to Sedona’s instead of hoping to find a spot on Main Street in front of her apartment. It doesn’t take long, and when I arrive, I press the buzzer. She immediately lets me in without even a question. That needs to change.
Walking up the stairs with the breast pump in hand, a million questions swarm my mind. What was it like for Sedona? When did she realize Palmer was deaf? How did she feel when she found out? How did she manage the last eighteen months without the help of a partner?
I knock on the door. After a minute or so, she opens it, wearing a tight camisole that has wet spots over her breasts.
“Jamie!” she yelps, grabbing the edges of her robe and covering herself. “What are you doing here?”
I hold up the bag. “I was sent on a mission to get you a new breast pump.”
“Grandma Dori was supposed to bring it over.”
Palmer peeks over the couch as if she just realized someone is here. Then she runs and I pick her up in a swoop. She draws back. Play, Daddy?
I’ve never loved a sign more than I do the one for daddy. I shift her to one arm. Yes.
“Um, no.” Sedona’s robe slips open as she takes the bag from my hands so I can hold Palmer easier.
“Why not? You have a situation to deal with. Unless you need my help in that department.” I raise an eyebrow.
She shakes her head, but a smile plays on her lips. “Only because I’m desperate, but I’m going to have a conversation with my grandma about this.” She turns and mumbles something about Dori interfering as she shuffles over to what I assume is her bedroom.
I shut the apartment door and flick the lock before carrying Palmer back to where she was playing with big Lego-looking blocks. She hand
s me a yellow one and I stack it on to what she’s already started building. She leaves me and goes to a bin, pulling out a baby doll. Toys.
I stand to get a better look. She has everything she’d ever need, more toys than a preschool could use. I’ll have to get her a gift at some point. Maybe a stuffed animal. Let her pick it out. Something that reminds her of me so she can keep it with her when I’m not here.
Just that thought feels as if there’s a binding around my heart that someone is pulling tight.
She rounds the small table and slides her hand in mine, pulling me. I follow her into the second bedroom. It’s all girl, her name written above her crib. More toys and stuffed animals fill the corners of the room. A changing table rests along one wall with a stack of diapers on it. Her closet is open, and there are a myriad of cute dresses hung up. She guides me to a rocking chair in the corner, grabs a book, and crawls into my lap. I’ve never had to do this before.
She flips open the book and touches what should feel like chicken feathers. Fluffy.
How on Earth does she know how to sign the world fluffy? We go through the book with her signing smooth, soft, silk. She’s so smart, I want to wrap her in a bear hug and claim her as mine. But I can’t take credit for her.
She lays the back of her head on my shoulder and her hands slide on top of mine, her body heavy in my arms. Then she moves her fingers over my hands and up my arms, where she finds my watch and adjusts my wrist so she can see better. She’s a curious girl. A small sigh falls out of her, then her arms lower until they lay limp on mine.
Sedona comes to the door in a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun and she’s holding two bags. “She fell asleep, huh?”
I nod.
“Give me one second and we’ll move her to her crib. Hopefully, she doesn’t leak through.”
She disappears before I can ask her what she means about leaking through. My gaze moves to the changing table. Damn it. I should’ve changed her diaper. I should’ve known it was her nap time and changed her diaper before reading a book. Any other father would know these things.
Sedona comes back into the room and cringes. “I can’t pick her up. All you have to do is stand and lay her in the crib.”
“Okay.” I do what she instructed. “How have you been dealing with her since yesterday?”
“Well…” She motions with her head to leave the room.
We both leave the room, and she shuts the door behind us.
“How did she get out of the crib this morning?”
Sedona shoots me a sheepish look. “I kind of showed her how to climb out. It’s going to bite me in the ass later.”
“Sedona, why wouldn’t you ask someone for help? You can’t do this on your own. Let me help you.”
She shakes her head. “You can’t stay here. All my siblings have their own lives, and I can’t expect Grandma Dori to lift Palmer. She’s getting too heavy for her. It’s fine. We’ll manage.”
I blow out a breath, wanting to argue but feeling as though it’s not my place.
“I can call you when she wakes up. Maybe you can take her to the park or something.” She stands between the family room and the door.
I sit on the couch. “I think I’ll just stay. That way I can get her out of the crib for you.”
“I said I was fine.”
“Yeah, but I think I should stay.” I lean back and rest my ankle on my knee.
“Seriously?” Her forehead creases.
I nod and snatch the remote off the table.
She rushes over—as fast as she can, at least—and grabs it out of my hand. “You do not get control of my television.”
I hold up my hands. Good thing we’re in agreement that I’ll be staying put. Now I have to convince her to let me spend the night.
She sits down gingerly in the chair next to me. The television is on and we watch it for a moment in silence.
“Can I ask you something?” I break the ice because I know Sedona—she’ll let us skate around the topics we need to address forever if I let her. It’s how she keeps her armor up, how she convinces herself to believe things that are happening aren’t.
“What?”
“When did you find out about Palmer being deaf?”
Her gaze meets mine and the fearful glint in them alarms me.
“Um… well…” The remote slips from her hand and the next thing I know, her head falls into her hands and she sobs.
Fourteen
Jamison
“Sedona.” I lean forward, teetering on the edge of the couch, not sure whether I should comfort her or not.
She waves me off.
“I’m sorry. Don’t answer if you don’t want to. It doesn’t matter, right? I mean, we’re here, she’s deaf, we move forward. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“It came up during her newborn hearing test, but I didn’t receive confirmation until months later.” She picks up her head and wipes the tears. “I don’t really want to talk about what it was like right after she was born.”
“Okay, then don’t.”
I turn back toward the television. I know Sedona—she’ll tell me when she’s ready. I’m not sure what could possibly have her so upset. She’s done amazing with Palmer. But she’s yet to trust me, so we’ll give it some more time.
As I’m concentrating on a show I don’t really give a shit about, I feel her eyes boring a hole through the side of my head.
It’s time I share with her what happened after she left me.
“The day you left me, I drank so much I blacked out,” I blurt out.
“Jamison, no. It’s none of my business.”
“I want you to know.”
She blows out a breath and nods for me to continue.
“Johnny called and said we should go out, but I said no. I sat on our couch and stared at the ultrasound picture you left me. I convinced myself I was no good for her or you. That I’d fuck up your life more than I already had. With my injury and knowing I couldn’t play anymore, I felt as though I had no value to offer. I couldn’t give you the life I’d promised.”
“All I ever wanted was you,” she says in a small voice.
I believe her. Now. But then was a different story. My career had crumbled, and I had no idea what my life would look like after that. And she was pregnant.
“At the time, all I saw was my failed career. Which is wrong. I should’ve mourned that and moved on, saw my real future with you and Palmer. I’d do about anything to take that back. But I went home and got back in with a few of my buddies who’d taken the college route. Instead of nightclubs in New York City, I was at pubs getting wasted, barely able to see straight. Then I had the car accident.”
She nods but looks at her hands. “I saw it on television. It happened right after Palmer was born.” A look crosses her face, and I can’t decipher if it’s one of disappointment or sadness.
I push both hands through my hair, anxiety squeezing my chest like a vise. I should’ve been with her, not in that car, flipping it off the road and almost killing myself. “Someone saved me that night. I should be dead.”
“But you’re not.”
I shake my head. “No, I was lucky. The worst part is that it took a judge for me to get my arse in line. A fine and twelve months without my license in Scotland.”
“And that’s when you went into rehab?”
“Yeah. I flew to a treatment center in Minnesota that was highly recommended and continued treatment in Chicago for four months after that. Then it was just a matter of staying clean.”
“And your mom and dad? What do they say about all this?”
My heart lurches into my throat. She’ll never understand my reasons for keeping Palmer a secret. Just as I think we might find a way to move forward, she’s going to slam closed the cage around her heart, I just know it.
“They’re happy I’m clean, but there’s something you should know.”
She tilts her head
toward me, and it reveals her usual look of kindness. Talk about twins being opposites. Since the first time I met Sedona, she was so sweet, endearing, and kindhearted. I didn’t think I was worthy during those hard days in rehab, wondering how she was carrying on with our baby all on her own.
“They don’t know about Palmer,” I admit.
She nods and purses her lips, not seeming surprised in the least. “I figured.”
“How so?”
“Because if your mom knew that I was pregnant with your baby, she’d be on the first plane out of Scotland. At the very least she would’ve called me.”
She’s right. When I tell my mum, I’m pretty sure I should book her an airline ticket immediately. At the time, I didn’t want to admit to my parents that I’d walked out on my family because it was just another thing I’d failed at. Her boy, who she was so proud of that she’d brag to anyone in my small town who would listen, had already been stupid enough to risk his entire career by coming back from an injury too early and ruined his future. Then he couldn’t handle the pain and drank to numb it, losing the best thing in his life. It didn’t exactly put me up for a son of the year award.
“I just couldn’t do it… disappoint my mum like that.”
If Sedona is upset, she doesn’t show it. But she and Mum didn’t always get along, so maybe she’s relishing this news. It’s the same ol’ story of a perfect son with a girl Mum didn’t think was good enough.
“What’s she going to do when she finds out your daughter is eighteen months old?”
“Disown me,” I say, gripping my dark hair in my fist.
“Oh, she’ll forgive her sweet little boy.” She smiles, and all the running jokes between us about me being precious in Mum’s eyes run through my brain.
I shake my head.
“Palmer will calm some of her ire, I’m sure.”
“Definitely. She’s amazing, Sedona.”
“Tha—” She stops herself.
I should be on fallen knee, telling her over and over how much I appreciate her doing the heavy lifting for the last eighteen months. Promising her that if she’ll allow me, I’ll take over the family duties and let her rest. But we’re still far from that point.