by Nikki Bloom
Shooting into a sitting position, I gasped a haggard breath as a cold sweat glued to my skin and dribbled between my breasts under my shirt. The living room was quiet, but a shadow danced out of the corner of my eye, and my heart thundered against my ribs. Michael stood at the lip of the hallway, clearly still upset, and I reached out my arms quietly.
He hadn’t said a single word to me, hadn’t even let me drive him home, and then locked himself in his room. How long had he been standing there, lost in his own mind and misery? Walking over to climb onto the thin mattress, he curled up with his knees covering his cheeks, and I wordlessly wrapped my arms around him.
Michael’s soft sobs tore my heart open, and I kissed his head and ran my hands through his hair soothingly. Blinking back my own tears, I gulped down the dense lump in my throat, but there were no words underneath. What could I say?
I screwed up. I should’ve made a decision instead of telling Michael and Sophia. Hindsight was a bitch, and it was painfully obvious that this shit could’ve been avoided if I had just kept my fucking mouth shut.
“I’m sorry, Michael. I didn’t know how much it still hurt.” My mumble only intensified Michael’s cries, and he started to shake against me. “All of this... everything that’s happened... it’s hard to remember you’re just thirteen. I feel like I’m fifty and this has been going on a lot longer than it has. You know, I’m so, so proud of you for stepping up and taking care of Sophia. You’re a wonderful brother.”
“I’m-m sorry, t-too.” Big, watery green eyes glistened in the darkness at me, and I managed a small smile that I knew didn’t really matter. “You’re not M-Mom... y-you’re my sister... I forg—forget, too.”
“...I remember when you were born. I was thirteen, too, almost. Lookin’ at you for the first time, I remember the first thought I had was that you looked like a red potato.” A squawk of a half laugh, half sob escaped him, and Michael sniffled hard as I wiped away his tears with my thumbs. “You didn’t have any hair or eyebrows, and you were this long—”
Holding out my hands, I smiled when Michael took a rattling, shallow breath.
“What about me?” Glancing up, I gestured Sophia onto my bed as her tiny-voiced question flooded the living room. The sofa’s flimsy mattress creaked awfully, but I ignored it as she crawled into my lap. I blinked back the sting in my eyes at how hot she felt, and clearly she’d been awake all night, tossing and turning just like me.
“You looked like one of those white string beans. You were a long, skinny baby, and I wasn’t there right when you were born. I came after school, and you were wearing this strawberry thing with a little strawberry hat. I took a picture, but I don’t know if we have it anymore. You were so cute. You had a little bit of hair, but it was really red, and as you got older, it became darker.” Sophia frowned, reaching to touch her head, and I took her hands in mine to press our palms together. “The very first thought I had when I saw you was that you had beautiful, beautiful eyes. They were grey, sorta, with golden flecks, and you were a curious baby. If something was happening, you wanted to watch, and then you’d cry forever because you were tired. I used to take you to the beach and talk to you about all the stuff in the ocean. Imagine how nuts it is that you’ve liked dolphins all your life.”
“And Michael—” Reaching for his hand, I smiled at the almost mystical wonder that sparkled in his eyes. For the first time, I realized that no one had ever really told them about when they were babies. Sure, they remembered stuff eventually, but it must’ve felt like they couldn’t look back and had to keep moving forward. Which was exhausting. “I used to let you smash on my old laptop. You loved it. I had a keyboard that lit up, and you’d be so happy to just make the colors change. When I got home from school, you’d hound me to let you ‘help’ with my schoolwork.”
“Things were better when you were our sister, not our mom.” A sad sound escaped me, and I pulled my brother to my side to kiss his forehead. Before I could say anymore, my phone started to buzz insistently, and I reached to grab it.
“Oh, one second.” I ignored the text and set my phone fast down on the end table. Michael and Sophia needed me, and I couldn’t just leave them on their own this time.
25
Carter
“I don’t know. We were up all night talking about when they were babies. I didn’t realize I’d remember so much because I really didn’t like getting them ‘dumped’ on me. It’s not their fault, of course.” Finally, she paused, and my brows rose in interest when Madeline cast her bright gaze at me. “That doesn’t matter. We have to talk about what to do next. I’m not gonna beat around the bush, Carter. This is an accident, and I’m not sure what to do.”
“What reason do you have to not keep it?” Madeline stepped into the shower, leaving the door open, and I sat back against the tank of the toilet. She’d left Michael and Sophia home, but we had to talk, which was apparently going to happen while she got ready for work. My question wasn’t confrontational or defensive, but I wanted to know if Madeline could give me reasons.
Of course, ‘I don’t want to’ is a perfect reason, too. It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as there is one. If there wasn’t a reason for or against, we had to find one.
“I mean, ideally, I’d prefer to actually get to know you better and just feel things out without having this looming, life-changing responsibility on us. I don’t like that my birth control failed, and to be honest...I would rather that this have happened when Michael and Sophia were older, and things have died down.” Every word she uttered was heavy and not because of the steam billowing out of the shower. Clasping my hands together, I nodded mutely as emotions clashed in my chest. “Every reason I have to not keep it isn’t necessarily going to be an issue in eight months though. But right now, it’s just really overwhelming to think of all the shit we’re gonna have to go through between now and then. I just...don’t like that it’s happening now.”
“Are you worried about money?” After a moment, Madeline shook her head before drenching her hair and sweeping it back. “Are you worried about the actual logistics of it?”
“The logistics of having a baby? You don’t know if you’re going to be a good mom until you actually do it. It’s not like watching Michael and Sophia. It’s different when it’s your own. There’s no real reason not to, but what if everything goes to shit?”
“What if it doesn’t?” I knew that nothing I said was anything Madeline hadn’t already thought of...except my view of it. Her life was so much more complicated than mine, and things that had be considered for her, I’d never given any thought. I didn’t have siblings, and the one man I did consider my brother was a grown ass adult.
Even right now, Madeline was showing at my place and multitasking talking about parenthood because she had to go to work. I was sitting here, twiddling my thumb in my ass because my work had basically been done months ago. Drawing up architectural plans was literally the only part of the process I was involved in until the hotel was built. And then, all I did was tell people how I wanted things to look and let them get on with the real work.
“I could get used to this.” She paused, soaping up a hand towel to catch my eyes, and I rubbed my jaw roughly. “That’s what we are. This. And I like it this way. If this is all we ever are, that’s okay. When this changes, we talk about it. I’m not gonna buy a house and make you move in with me, or pressure you to marry me, or even try to become Uncle Carter or whatever. Building a life with you... I don’t need a real reason to do so. I just want to. I knew we’d have something great when we flirted at the House on the Pier, and I think you knew it, too. And now... here we are, several months later. It isn’t a lot of time, but it’s been the happiest time of my life. I don’t think that counts for nothing.”
“...I have to think about it some more. I only missed two periods, so I have plenty of time. Michael is gonna struggle a lot more than Sophia, and I don’t wanna quit, so I’m gonna have to figure something out with Benny...if we keep it.” Caut
ion dribbled from her tongue thickly, and I only nodded again. Really, it was entirely Madeline’s decision, since it’d affect her entirely. Dads didn’t become dads until the baby was born, but moms became moms the moment they got pregnant. At least, that was what my dad said. “Why does everything have to be so complicated? I miss when my life was easy and the only person’s schedule I had to worry about was my own.”
“Well, what about your aunt? Doesn’t your mom have people on her side that you’ve never met? Maybe, it’d be a good idea to reach out to them.” Madeline shook her head before I even finished my suggestion, and she cast me a dumb look through the steam.
“Aunt Betty is ten years older than my mom, but my dad refused to tell me what happened between them, if he even knows. I’m not looking forward to reaching out, but I am open to some involvement. I hope that Michael and Sophia can spread themselves out a little and kinda unbunch themselves from being under my thumb all the time. It’s just as exhausting for them as it is for me.” I nodded again—it was all I seemed to be able to do as Madeline sighed sharply, but I liked listening to her talk. She didn’t whine. She didn’t expect me to fix her shitty situation or tell her white lies. Madeline talked to me to help herself think, and I thought that was a great quality. “I can’t even imagine what it is at this point, but whatever it is, I have a feeling it was my mom blowing it out of proportion somehow. If I do decide to reach out to my extended relatives, I’m going to make it clear what I think is appropriately considerate.”
“Why? I mean, all I know about your mom is that she went spiraling down after a miscarriage, and I can’t really fault her for that.”
“Oh-h, no. That’s awful, and I may hate her for essentially putting herself in that situation, but I don’t fault her for the actual miscarriage. More like how she went about it all. But, no—that’s not even the tip of the iceberg. Once, right before I turned sixteen and got my job at the House, she refused to talk to me for almost a month because I said ‘no’ to a celebratory dinner that she wanted me to pay for using my first ever paycheck. Because she was so proud of me that she wanted me to take her out to celebrate my job.” Madeline frowned at me as memories played in her eyes. “My mom was a liar and a manipulator; she was selfish, lazy, a complete gossipmonger, and if she could blame me for something she did, and would in a heartbeat. It toned down after Michael and Sophia because she had someone else to focus on, and they’ll never know about it, but she got pregnant for attention and it backfired on her. It sucks in theory, but in practice, not so much.”
“O-oh...” Madeline had never talked about her mom so much, and my mouth dried from a mix of emotions. What could I say? I didn’t know this woman. “That seems unbearable. So, you were going to move out with your friend into the apartment you have now? If that story is anything to go by, your mom must’ve gotten worse as you saved up.”
“Yeah, my best friend’s mom agreed to open up a dependent account for me. My mom once stole my debit card, and I called her crying, and she went out looking for my mom and tried to beat her up at the plaza down the street from the House. The point is, it’s not uncommon for my mom to say, ‘fuck you all,’ and do whatever she wants, consequences be damned. Only this time, she couldn’t handle the consequences. Whether she knew it was entirely her fault and could’ve been avoided if she wasn’t so stupid, or she just shut down due to the emotional toll...I don’t know, and I don’t care. As much as it sucks, constantly telling someone something is a bad idea, and then exactly what you warned ends up happening... I just try to not be a complete bitch about it because a baby was involved. People don’t like the fact that morality is a grey area.”
“Yeah. Things will be okay, Madeline. One way or the other. You’re not your mother, and for what it’s worth, I think you’ll be a wonderful mom. You already are.” Smiling at me so sunnily, beautifully, Madeline reached out of the shower to grab my hand and squeeze before I caught sight of my watch. “You have a little less than half an hour before your shift starts. Better hurry up.”
26
Madeline
You’ll be a wonderful mom. You already are. Carter’s words from the other day swirled in my messy mind as I loaded up a serving tray. We’d talked a little bit more about my pregnancy, but really, the decision was on my shoulders.
And that fucking sucked. I didn’t want to deal with this right now, and the frustration of being forced into situations grew more intense every day.
“Madeline—” Benny’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I fought the automatic desire to cringe. Glancing over the steaming plates on my tray, I gulped down the dense lump that formed in my throat when I saw his pinched face. “We need to talk.”
“I have to run this—” But Benny cut me off with a glare, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “What do you want me to do? Put it on the busboy station?”
“Just hurry up.” I mouthed silently and glared after him when Benny disappeared into the kitchen. Walking out onto the floor, I weaved my way towards my table with irritation simmering my blood.
Why couldn’t Benny just ignore me like our new normal? Today was not the day to pick a fight with me. Heading out onto the deck, I made my way over to my table to distribute their plates. The steam suddenly cleared from my vision, and pink was already tinging my vision. Putting on a polite smile, I seethed inside as I walked briskly back to the restaurant to head down the hall.
I knocked on Benny’s office door before walking in, and he held up a finger as he was engaged in an intense phone call. Sitting in a chair across from his desk, I crossed my legs and tried not to stew on the possibilities.
Eventually, Benny hung up to cast me a shrewd glance, and I held my breath as he sat back ominously.
“What is this—The Godfather? Just say whatever it is you want to say, Benny. I have tables to get back to.” Irritation laced my tone, and he glowered at me darkly. Weeks and weeks of being berated for nothing echoed in my head, and I stood up stiffly. “Well, if you’ve got nothing to say, I’m going back to work.”
“We need to talk about your future here at The House, Madeline.” The hairs on the back of my neck bristled, and my face heated at the underlying threat in Benny’s tone. Clenching my jaw hard under his level stare, I resisted the urge to start shouting at him. “You’re creating a toxic work environment and other staff have talked to me about it. This is getting out of hand.”
“I—I beg your pardon?” My vision blurred briefly as the sharpness in my own voice knocked around inside my skull. “I’m creating a toxic work environment? Me? You’re the one that comes to the floor to utter threats at me. You tell me to do shit you know I’m not going to do because it’s not my job. I’m not going to pack away beer bottles. I’m not going to organize everyone’s time sheets. You come at me already angry knowing I’m gonna say ‘no.’ How is your crusade my fault?”
“There’s a downside to only doing your jo—” I giggled almost maniacally, cutting Benny off. Covering my mouth to hide my frown, I squeezed my jaw as his expression darkened noticeably.
“Seriously? You want to go that route and tell me to take initiative? What you want is to push me over. I’m not dumb. I’m not going to overwork myself more than I already have for the past year. Now that I’m not working every day all day, you expect me to do it for free as—as initiative? No. In case you forgot, I’m doing pretty damn okay right now in my life, and this job doesn’t mean as much. If you wanted to try this, you should’ve done it when I was working fourteen hours a day.” I straightened my bustier as I spoke, and humor lilted my tone as Benny seemed to readjust himself. This song and dance with him was getting old, and I stared him dead in the eyes with all the determination I had. “I will do my job. That’s it. I’m not staying an extra hour to help close. I’m not coming in early to open. I’m not working split shifts. These are things you agreed to when we talked about lessening my workload, Benny. If you want me to do those things, put me on that schedule properly.”
&
nbsp; “Sit down, damnit!” My brows rose in surprise, and Benny practically shot up from his seat to palm his desk hard. Instantly, I turned on my heel and walked out, and my skin tightened as anxiety coiled in my belly. “Madeline!”
I didn’t stop, the alarms ringing in my ears drowning out the sounds of the floor as I emerged from the hallway. Like Hell am I gonna get yelled at where no one can vouch for me. If Benny wanted to act a fool, I’d at least want an audience for the performance.
“Stop for a damn moment!” I was halfway through the kitchen when Benny grabbed my arm, and I whipped around without thought. Swinging my palm firmly against his face, the resounding crack of skin on skin stilled the bustle of the busy kitchen. Suddenly, everyone was looking at us through the serving counter, and Benny jolted to the side. Goosebumps swept up my arms and across my chest, and I pointed at him with a trembling, accusatory finger.
“Don’t you ever put a hand on me again!” He clutched his face, hiding his expression, but his eyes displayed how badly he knew he’d fucked up. Even though I’d taken less hours, I knew he relied on me heavily. I was head waitress, I was flexible, and I knew how things ran. He’d need two or three half-competent people to replace me, and I tore off my apron as fire raced through my veins. “Fuck you, you know that? I’m done. You want toxic? You fucking got it!”
Throwing my apron on the floor, I stormed out of the kitchen and through the floor, ignoring all the stares leveled at me. I shivered as shock and anger played around my vertebrae. Benny seriously grabbed me! What the fuck!? Not only that, but he tried to pin his shitty behavior on me and lied about it!
“Madds! Madds! Hey!” Savannah rushed over with panic drenching her face, and I held up a hand to stop her. I didn’t stop stomping towards the door, and the blood drumming in my ears suddenly died when I heard Benny’s voice.