Waiting on my Reason

by Devon Ashley

  “Please,” I replied dramatically. “I was the king of manipulation growing up. I’m well versed in the subject.”

  She threw in the towel, literally, as the cloth lightly landed over my shoulder and stayed there. “Alright, you can have him. I’ll admit I’d feel a whole lot better with you by his side than any of his other babysitters.” She stepped up and gently kissed my lips once. “Thank you.” Patting my peck a few times, her eyes drifted down to watch her hand smoothly sway across my chest. She probably didn’t know it, but her smile hitched slightly, and my ego just boosted itself up another notch.

  Mel was a little late getting out of here because she kept running over the list of do’s and don’ts to the point it was almost insulting. I couldn’t be mad at her though. I saw the fear in her eyes as she glanced at Jake one last time and I reassured her for the tenth time that I would keep him safe. She nodded and kissed me on the lips, but it didn’t carry the love like all the ones from last night. Her mind must’ve been really distracting her with awful Brad-related scenarios.

  My heart ached the moment her car drove out of sight. As much as I knew I could control what happened to Jake, Mel was officially on her own for the day. And that worried me.

  Damn Brad and his god damn addictions. No way he would’ve attacked Mel or robbed Sully’s if he wasn’t jonesing for a hit of something. I wanted to beat the shit out of him for even touching her, but at the same time, I wanted the guy I used to know to make a reappearance and fix his life already. Getting picked up and charged for what he did would probably be a good thing – get him some court-appointed therapy or rehabilitation or something. I just prayed someone caught up with him before he ended up doing something to really screw himself over.

  Jake was a little quiet with me at first, but once I asked him if he figured out which superhero I was, he burst alive with excitement. He kept shouting out names, but I wouldn’t confirm or deny any of his guesses. I just sat back on the sofa with my arms up on the cushions beside me, shaking my head with a semi-cruel smile.

  “Come on! Please?” he whined, antsy and bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

  “Sorry, Jake. A superhero can never give up his secret identity. Next thing you know, everyone knows.”

  I groaned when he decided to climb onto my lap, his knees digging into my thigh muscles. “I won’t tell anyone!” He was so excited he didn’t even realize he was screaming at me, even though our heads were literally a foot apart. I just kept shaking my head, trying to bite back the smile. “Does my Mommy know who you are?”

  “Nope,” I replied. “I couldn’t even tell her. She just knows I’m a superhero. Just like you.”

  He grumbled, probably hoping that would be the in that got him this particular information. Jake began bouncing up and down in my lap, and damn he was too heavy to be doing that. “S’not fair!”

  “Sorry, but only a superhero’s sidekick can know his secret identity.”

  His cute little face lit up, his blue eyes seeming even brighter as they bulged outward. “I can be your sidekick!” he cried, bouncing with even more excitement than before. My thighs were going to pay for this later. I’d buck him off and tell him not to do that, but it was our first day spending time one-on-one and I just didn’t want to damper it in any way.

  “Hmm…”

  “PLEASE????”

  “Maybe,” I replied, drawing out the word. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

  “Okay!” he cried, now jumping up and down on the sofa cushion beside me. I spent the next hour out back teaching him how to properly pitch a ball back and forth, and fielded two calls from Mel, trying to assure her that we were fine and to just relax already. She finally agreed, and I thought that would be the end of it, until I heard a knock at the front door an hour after that. Through the curtain sheer I could see a middle-aged woman. Hardly considering her a threat, I opened the two doors for her. “Hello. Can I help you?”

  “Hi. I’m Susie,” she said as she waved once. “I live next door. You’re Shane, right?”

  I pinched my lips together and crossed my arms, leaning causally against the screen to keep it propped open. “She sent you over here to check on me, didn’t she?” I accused.

  “No,” she said quickly, but the way her voice caught, I knew she was lying. I continued to stare at her, with a look that I knew she was lying. “Alright, yes, but it’s nothing personal.” She tried to smile when she added, “First time parents are always overprotective. When you become one, you’ll understand.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes because that movement was reserved for Mel, not this woman who was just doing what she was asked. I waved her in and stepped back so she could come through. “See?” I said, sweeping my arm to show where Jake was camped out in the tent we made in the living room. “Child alive. House not on fire.”

  She chuckled beside me and waved as Jake said hello, disappearing beneath the sheets again. Patting my upper arm, she said, “She did the same thing to me. Called all day too. I’ll try to convince her that you know what you’re doing.”

  “Well, I’d appreciate the effort but I doubt it’ll keep her from calling.” Especially with Brad still on the loose.

  Susie said goodbye to both of us and left. I couldn’t help but notice the limp as she went down the walk, like she had arthritis in her hips or something.

  Once I closed the door, I asked, “Can you believe your mom doesn’t think we can be here by ourselves all day?”

  “Yes.” Jake answered so bluntly I couldn’t help but laugh. He peeked his head out of the tent curiously, completely unaware that it was his response that I was laughing at.

  Clapping my hands, I said, “Alright, come out of there.” He disappeared behind the material and I thought for sure he was ignoring me, but a few seconds later he came out, action figure in hand. “Okay, we’ve got to do something that’ll get your mother to believe we’re capable men. You do want me to be able to stay here with you during the day, right?” His little head nodded quickly. “Then we’ve got to clean this house top to bottom, make it spic-and-span.” His head never stopped bobbing, but all of a sudden it changed from vertical to horizontal. I stifled my laugh, but it wasn’t easy. This boy was way too cute.

  “I’m afraid so, little man. Can I call you little man?”

  His head changed direction again.

  “Then we’ve got to do it. We’ve got to suck it up and get our elbows greased.” The nodding finally stopped, but his head cocked to the side and his nose crinkled. I wasn’t sure if he was confused by what I said, or just disgusted. “Alright. Tell me what you can do.”

  “Cookie?” he asked, keeping his face nonchalant.

  “Cookie?” I all but shouted. “You can’t have a cookie. We haven’t done anything yet.”

  Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. His lower lip stuck out so far it completely covered his upper lip and almost touched the bottom of his nose. I tightened my eyes and stared him down, but he didn’t break the pose. Realizing my opposition was in it for the long haul, I knew I’d be better off giving him a cookie if I was going to get any work out of him.

  “Alright,” I said, seceding. “Here’s the deal. I’ll give you one cookie now, and two when we finish all the chores. Are the terms acceptable on your end?”

  A smile spread across his face and he ran to the pantry, already pointing to the exact spot of the package when I came up behind him. “Up there.”

  “Uh-huh,” I mumbled, handing him a mint-flavored Oreo. At that moment, I wasn’t sure who was manipulating who here.

  Once he ate his treat, I passed him the floor vacuum and told him to get to it, while I sucked it up and headed for the bathroom. Mel already kept it pretty clean, but I gave it all a once over, even going so far as to clean the toilet and scrub out the tub. The kitchen would be easy enough, so I decided to leave it for later, since Jake had switched to the wet-vac and was currently mopping its floor. I couldn’t help but be proud of him for that.
I didn’t even have to ask.

  Figuring I’d pick up her bedroom a little, I headed down the hall. Curiosity got the best of me, and instead of going to the door on the left, I went for the one on the right. For some reason it was locked. My eyes swept north to scan the top of the door frame. Nothing. Looking down the hallway, I saw the skeleton key on top of the bathroom door. I snagged it, inserted it into the knob, and after a few seconds of digging and twisting, the door unlocked. I placed the key back atop the frame and pushed the door open.

  I absently waved the air before my face, as if it could keep the pent up smell of cinnamon from attacking my nose. This room looked like old lady. Not what I expected after seeing the rest of the house. Mel was into functional yet minimal, probably because she had a four-year-old that she expected to break things left and right. But with this room, all dresser space was littered with lace doilies, picture frames and ceramic figurines of creepy little kids that looked ancient. The walls also had some old photographs, in addition to arts and crafts projects, some of which had to be colored by Jake himself.

  After taking it all in, there was something oddly familiar about it all. The smell was pounding against my head, trying to remind me of where I’d been accosted by it before. But my mind went completely blank. It wasn’t until I focused in on the actual photographs that I began to realize I recognized them. They were all from Brad’s old home. Joyce Montgomery’s. Slightly muddled, I began opening dresser drawers and the closet, all of which were filled with clothing I remembered her wearing.

  What the hell? Did she live here? When did that happen?

  I thumbed through the dresses in the rack, recalling each from some period of my life growing up. Waste not, want not, she always said. Joyce was never one to replace clothing that was still perfectly good, regardless of style. Down by my feet, Mary Janes filled a shelf that stretched the length of the closet. It was just wrong that I knew what those were called, but I had my own grandmother to thank for that.

  For the most part, everything looked like it belonged to Joyce. Everything but a small brace left on the floor by the front right corner. I picked it up, realizing it was a wraparound for the torso. For a little kid. Blue with ambulances and fire trucks and police cars all over it in primary colors. Very boyish.

  I was literally scratching my head when I stepped back into the room, immediately spying Jake standing in the doorway. He seemed daze, his face a bit saddened, and he was endlessly twisting the action figure in his hands.

  “Jake?” I called softly. It took him a moment, but his gaze slowly made its way to mine. “You okay?”

  “Nana,” he whispered.

  Nana? I moved to the dresser and pulled a picture off. Holding out the frame that held a print of Joyce and Jake cheek to cheek when he was younger, I asked, “Is this Nana?”

  He slowly nodded. As his eyes began to glisten and his lips trembled, I finally understood why Mel kept the guest room locked. “Where’s Nana?” he asked quietly, looking up at me with a saddened expression that stung my chest in a way that I hadn’t felt since…well, never, actually. If I ever felt that way when my grandparents died, I sure didn’t remember it. Just merely standing in her room was hurting him.

  “Come on, buddy.” I turned him by the shoulder and guided him out of the room, pulling on the door so it trailed us. Once I had him sitting Indian-style on his bed, which we still hadn’t gotten around to making yet, I asked, “What did your mom tell you about Nana?” I sure as hell didn’t want to say the opposite. I remembered Mel going to church every Sunday morning, but I couldn’t say if she did that for herself or because her parents always took her with them. So I wasn’t sure if she believed in a heaven or not.

  He traded out the action figure for a stuffed giraffe, which he now hugged so fiercely he had a strangle-hold on it. “That Nana had to go away.”

  “And…” I led.

  “And it may be a long time before we see her again.”

  I absently nodded my head as I reached out to softly stroke the length of his back. I suddenly remembered the back brace, still gripped in my other hand. I had meant to leave it in the room. Hoping to change the conversation, I held it out before him and asked, “Do you remember wearing this?”

  His little eyebrows pinched, then he slowly shook his head, his gaze set on the brace. Judging by the size of it, it had probably been at least a year or two since he wore it last. Maybe he had scoliosis or something, and Mel just couldn’t afford to buy him a bigger one yet.

  What the hell did she do with that money if she couldn’t even afford to keep him in a brace?

  “Why can’t I see her?”

  I might’ve succeeded in deterring my own mind away from Joyce, but sadly, Jake wasn’t so quick to forget about Nana. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair. It’s just something we all have to accept. If your mom says you’ll see her again one day, then you just have to believe that you will. Okay?”

  Damn it broke my heart to see the first tear make its way down his cheek. Still, I wasn’t prepared to handle the rest that followed so quickly. My sister’s kid never cried around me, and none of my friends did it through the years, so I wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Then the whimpering began. And tiny gasps here and there between bouts of tears. I couldn’t help it. I picked him up and sat him in my lap, his arms and legs immediately wrapping tightly around my neck and waist.

  I just let him cry it out until he fell asleep in my arms. There was something perfect about the way he molded into my body…so warm and trusting. How could any man not feel the need to claim him as his own?

  It felt sort of weird to be back at the bar. I was only gone a few days, but it felt like so much more. I don’t know what I was expecting really. It wasn’t like I was going to see the rubber mat still folded over, glass shards littering the floor, possibly even smears of blood. It looked like nothing ever happened, and most likely, the patrons sitting at the bar this very moment never knew to begin with.

  Sully was waiting for me in the office, a squished smile on his weathered face. He stood up and gave me a gentle hug, apologizing for like the fifth time already. I kept telling him he didn’t need to. It was my baggage, my fault Brad stormed the bar and ripped him off. All because of that damn life insurance policy. On the bright side, Sully decided to reactivate the account for the alarm company, so now when we pushed through that emergency exit, it wouldn’t just be making an obnoxious sound warning others to clear out. The police would actually respond. I knew the sheriff gave him a hard time about that, but in a town this small, you never think it would happen to you.

  Since Sully had been filling in for me on my days off, he left shortly thereafter, despite it being one of his normal workdays. I was kind of glad he did. The fewer people I had looking at me like I was a fragile china doll, the easier it would be for me to focus on my work. No one came to bug me the first few hours, letting me bury myself in the paperwork on the desk. Sully may have been here for me, but it sure as hell didn’t involve taking inventory or preparing the next round of order sheets. After forty years in the business, I guess he was only interested in signing off on them these days.

  After a while I braved the bar, just in time to catch the evening crowd trickling in. Basketball and hockey seasons were still going strong, so the sports fanatics would be shuffling in soon. Unfortunately, we only had the one flat screen, so it was first come, first served to catch the closest seat to the game. Same went for the one pool table in the back corner. What could I say? Welcome to Berryville. You want a more engaging bar experience, get in the car and head closer to Dallas.

  All day long I watched the front door closely, always worrying about a particular face coming through. But he wouldn’t, right? Risk it? He stole what money he could grab before running out of here. He couldn’t just casually walk through the door again, so I couldn’t understand why I didn’t feel safe, like I felt something was coming. The calm before the storm.

  I shook it off and privately
berated myself for what was probably the tenth time today. I was safe here. Jake was safe with Shane.

  Shane. My head really went to town during the lag between the afternoon and night crowds. I still hadn’t really had time to process what the hell just happened. I freaking slept with Shane last night. I. Freaking. Slept. With. Shane. Last. Night.

  Numerous times.

  Holy hell.

  My head felt like it was spinning, freaking skipping atop cloud nine on my tippy-toes. I’d been dreaming – no, scratch that – fantasizing about that for years. And I had gone five years without a single date, so there had been plenty of time to perfect the vivid imagery that filled my head when I laid in bed every night. And hell if he didn’t live up to my expectations. I felt tingly inside, a hum still vibrating between my thighs. Gawd, all the guy had to do was touch me and my body was ready for him to slide inside.

  And all I wanted to do was finish this shift and get back so I could let him do it all over again.

  I heard the TV even before I opened the door, but I didn’t expect to see Shane passed out on the sofa, his head rolled over the top. I chuckled to myself, because I knew he had no trouble staying awake to see me at the end of my shift. Jake must’ve done a real number on him, being a superhero and all.

  I let him sleep while I showered. I suddenly wished I kept a stash of nice lingerie, but I honestly never thought I’d allow someone into my bed until Jake was way older. And I was sure he’d love for me to go naked, but I couldn’t very well do that outside the bedroom, so I threw on some clothes.

  Stepping out of the bathroom, my hand scrunching my hair through the towel, I decided to turn down the sheets before I woke him. But as I neared the end of the hallway, I noticed the guest room door was cracked. I gasped unexpectedly. Not because it scared me or anything, but because that door hadn’t been opened in more than a year. It was just…odd.