Eight Days a Week

by Amber L. Johnson

“You look good,” he said.

  “Thanks. I am good,” I said quietly.

  He hadn’t aged. He’d just gotten better-looking. His jaw was sharper, his eyes lighter—even his hair was perfect. He was lean and tall, strong and proud.

  Something flickered in his eyes, and I turned away, afraid of what I’d see there if I stared for too long. He lifted a tentative hand and squeezed my shoulder. “Well, happy birthday, Andrew. Your mom is waiting to welcome you home.”

  I looked toward the backyard and took a deep breath. Home. This wasn’t my home.

  Brady ran by the door while Gwen chased after him, and my heart swelled at the sight. On the run. Messy and disorderly. They were my home.

  Raking my hands through my hair, I made my way out the back doors into the sunlight, taking in the sounds and smells that surrounded me: the grill, the chlorine, the flowers from my mother’s garden, the water splashing, and Brady laughing. The look of raw emotion in my mother’s eyes.

  I swallowed, frozen in place. She was so tiny and fair, and she didn’t seem to have aged either. She was in a flowing sundress with a sun hat to guard her complexion. Her soft brown and silver-streaked hair caught the breeze as it rolled through, and her huge diamond ring blinded me as it reflected the light.

  There was a soft spot in my heart for my mother. Regardless of how I felt about my father and my upbringing, there was just something about the way she looked at me. It was like I was five years old again, hiding in the laundry hamper and swearing it was a magic trick because I’d made myself disappear. She always played along, and I wanted her approval more than anything.

  Even now, as we stood a few feet apart, I wanted her to be proud of me. I could never have admitted that before.

  Her eyes softened, and she brushed what looked to be a tear off her cheek as she opened her arms and closed the gap between us. She smelled of sunshine and lilies, Downey softener and lemonade. She smelled like childhood.

  “Hey, Mom.” I squeezed her tighter. From the corner of my eye I saw Cece beaming at us, and I tensed and pulled away, unwilling to give my sister the satisfaction of feeling like she had anything to do with this. But then I looked back at my mom and let it go.

  She took a step back and smiled up at me, all toothy and teary-eyed. “Happy birthday, Andrew.” She pressed her soft hand to my face and sighed. “I bought you a cake,” she whispered, like it was a secret.

  “Thanks. The kids will be excited to get some sugar in their systems before I have to put them to bed.”

  She looked toward the pool and then back at me. “So you work with Gwen, too? Watching her kids?”

  I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the inevitable look of disapproval, but she appeared interested. I cleared my throat and nodded. “Actually, Brady and Bree are her godchildren. Their parents died, and Gwen took custody of them.”

  My mom smiled. “Yes, your sister told me. That’s very noble.”

  “Yeah, she’s selfless like that.” I gazed across the pool where Gwen was talking with Tess and Ian. “So, yes, the short answer is that I take care of the children. Like a nanny.”

  My mom chuckled and shook her head. “You’re no more just a nanny than Gwen is just a godmother.” Her eyes crinkled against the sunlight. “But you’re the happiest I’ve ever seen you. They’ve changed you.”

  “I guess they have.” Without another thought, I pulled my mom to my chest and kissed her head. “I love you, Mom. I’m sorry I haven’t called. You know it wasn’t you.”

  She trembled and clutched the sides of my shirt, sniffling as I held her. I hated that I was the one who’d made her upset. She didn’t deserve it.

  I took a steadying breath and looked over her head to see Gwen watching with big eyes, a wistful look on her face.

  “Dee!” Bree shouted, and I loosened my grip on my mom and stepped back to let Bree push in between us. “Look!”

  I bent at the knees, and Bree opened her hands to reveal a monarch butterfly. “Nice, Bree. I thought you didn’t like bugs!”

  She made a face. “Butterflies aren’t like real bugs.”

  “Ah, of course. Hey, don’t touch her wings. The powder on them helps her fly, and if you rub it off she can’t use her wings anymore.”

  “Really?” She raised her eyebrows high.

  “Yes, really. You didn’t think I knew that kind of stuff, did you?” I gave her a sidelong glance, and she blushed.

  “You’re the smartest guy I know,” she whispered, and then she leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. “I was gonna give you the butterfly for your birthday, but I don’t want to kill her.” She turned and lifted her hands to the air, and it flew away to land on a flower.

  My mom watched us, her hand to her mouth and her eyes watery.

  “Bree, did Gwen introduce you to my mom?” I asked.

  Bree stood primly and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  My mom shook her hand and laughed as Bree walked away. “She reminds me of your sister.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Tell me about it.”

  I went over to the grill where Xander was handling the burgers and hot dogs. Cece was grinning, and I knew she thought life was a fairy tale, but shit didn’t work like that.

  Xander jerked his head toward the cooler. “Want a beer, birthday boy?” He didn’t even wait for an answer, and then I had a Heineken in my hand.

  I wriggled in between him and my sister to look over the burgers. “I want mine pink in the middle.”

  “Pervert,” Cece mumbled.

  I gave her my most appalled expression. “Cecelia, how dare you infer I meant anything perverse when I asked Xander for some pink meat. Tsk tsk, young lady.”

  Xander snorted, and I took a long drink from my beer bottle.

  Bree and my mother were looking at flowers, my mother no doubt teaching her their names and the proper way to water them in the summer. Gwen was leaning back in one of the white plastic chairs by the pool, chatting with Tess and Ian while Brady and Joshua swam.

  “Dee! Wook!” Brady called from the diving board.

  “Whoa. Who said you could be on the board, li’l man?” I asked, starting toward him.

  “I did, Daddy Dee.” Gwen laughed and sat up. “He’s okay, and I’m watching him. Relax, all right?” She waved at him and he jumped, then bobbed to the top of the water with the help of his floaties. “It’s your birthday. Consider this your day off.”

  I didn’t get days off. How did I turn off the instinct to protect the people I loved?

  I sank onto the chair next to her and smiled when she leaned in to me and rested her leg against mine. Tess didn’t even flinch at Ian’s dopey grin. He gave her a wink, sipped on his beer, and pulled her closer.

  We were quiet as we watched the boys swimming. I started getting fidgety, so I grabbed Gwen and threw her into the pool, then stripped off my shirt and dived in after her as she surfaced and screamed at me.

  “You jerk!” She grasped my shoulders and tried to push me under.

  “Come on, you were planning on swimming anyway.” I palmed the top of her head and dunked her. Within seconds, Brady and Joshua were surrounding me, splashing me and climbing on my back, trying to get me under. Then Ian jumped in with Tess, and Xander carried Cece to the edge and threw her in.

  Bree watched from the side, and I caught hold of her legs and pulled her in, too. She kicked and splashed, yelling for me to stop, but she grinned the whole time. We were a huge mass of bodies, slipping under and over the water, flipping and dunking and acting like children. It took five of us to get Ian under, but I was pretty sure he went down because Tess stuck her hand down his shorts.

  My mom watched us from the porch, smiling. Geoffrey emerged and announced that the food was ready, so we all climbed out and dried off. After we’d finished eating, Bree demanded we wait the requisite thirty minutes until we swam again, and we all obliged because it wasn’t worth getting scolded by a seven-year-old. Brady curled up on the chair next to me
and fell asleep with his head on my lap, so I carried him inside, wrapped him in a dry towel, and tucked him into the guest bed.

  Once he was secure, I headed back down the hall, passing by my father’s study. Geoffrey was standing in front of his bookshelf, holding a book and staring at its spine.

  I sighed and ran a hand over the back of my neck. Then I cleared my throat, and he turned, giving me a small smile and putting the book back in its place.

  “Is it time for cake?” he asked.

  “No. Not yet.”

  He nodded and sat down in his chair, his eyelids drooping. He paused for a painful moment before finally speaking. “Why did you leave, Andrew?”

  My feet froze as I stood in front of his desk. “Leave? Which time?”

  A stern expression crossed his face. There was the father I knew.

  “Why did you leave for two years, son? What did we do that was so bad? I gave you everything you needed, didn’t I? Anything you asked for. But still you ran.”

  I laughed without humor. “That’s just it, Dad. You gave me every thing I wanted. But you know what I wanted the most?”

  Geoffrey leaned back in his chair.

  “I wanted you. I wanted you to see me for me. Not for what you wanted me to be because Cece had set the standard. I wanted you to just take a damn interest in what made me happy. To be proud of me for what I was trying to accomplish—”

  “I was proud, Andrew!” he shouted, and I jumped. “Do you have some warped perception of your childhood?” Geoffrey sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “This has been so hard on your mother. You have no idea how much she’s cried.” He looked up at me with haunted eyes. “You’re good with those kids. But you know that’s not what I wanted for your future. And yet I don’t want you to just walk away from them either. This situation you’ve put yourself in—I would hate to do that to those children. To Gwen. I don’t know her very well, but your sister speaks highly of her and . . .” He threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know what you’re doing with yourself. What do you want me to say?”

  I stared at him. “I guess I want you to be a part of this. This life—the one I have with Gwen and the kids. And to accept I’m not Cece. I’ll never be her. I’m not going to have the career you want for me, because it’s not what I want. This is. I want you to see what I’m doing and how I’m changing. That this job means everything to me.” I met his gaze and sighed. “I am changing, Dad.”

  “And I can see that.”

  “But mostly? I want to be better.” I chewed on my lip.

  “Better?”

  “Yeah, I want to be a better man. A better father . . . kind of. I know I’m not their dad, but I’m as close as it gets for those two. Which means I want to be better. Better than you.” My heart stopped as the last three words slipped from my mouth.

  Geoffrey nodded and took a deep breath. “Every parent wants to be better than his own. That means you want what’s best for those children.” His mouth turned up into a smile. “And I am proud of you for that. Maybe someday you’ll understand it’s the exact way I’ve always felt about you. Yes, I have certain expectations. But I’d rather you do what makes you happy, so we can at least have you around.”

  I felt my shoulders relax. “Thanks.”

  There was a soft knock on the door, and Cece paused in the doorway. “Cake?”

  We walked out to the backyard where everyone except for Brady was assembled around the table. A chocolate cake lit up with candles was sitting in the middle. The sky was starting to darken, and the fireflies were emerging from the woods around the house. Gwen smiled, and I wondered if she was thinking about the night before, like I was.

  I stood there, surrounded by my real family, and the family I wanted to make my own, as they sang “Happy Birthday” before I leaned over to blow out the candles. As my mom cut the cake, Gwen leaned in to whisper in my ear.

  “What did you wish for?”

  “I don’t need to wish for anything when I already have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  She grinned, then grabbed a plate of cake and took a seat next to my mother, like they’d known one another their entire lives.

  When we were stuffed, waterlogged, and overheated, Gwen and I gathered our things to leave. Gwen packed up the kids after saying her goodbyes. The children said thank you and hugged my parents, making me proud they were such good kids. I hugged both my parents, too, and as I made my way to the Hyundai, I promised to visit again soon.

  Gwen grinned as I buckled my seat belt and, as my birthday came to a close, I got my last birthday present. I reached out and took Gwen’s hand in mine. I wanted her hand in mine more than anything else right then. And I held it all the way home.

  Chapter 23

  Act Naturally

  I walked in from the garage, carrying grocery bags into the noisy kitchen. There was a flash of blond hair by the kitchen table—Bree was shaking her butt and singing into a wooden spoon while Brady jumped around swinging his arms like a madman to the music.

  Gwen sang along and rocked her hips in her tiny shorts and tank top, her ponytail swinging back and forth. I stood back and watched her, the gorgeous young woman that she was. She wasn’t a boss, or a stand-in mommy. Gwen, in that minute, simply was who she was.

  Brady spotted me and ran to hug my legs, and Gwen’s cheeks flamed bright red as she scrambled to turn down the music and compose herself.

  “Don’t mind me,” I said, walking toward the refrigerator. “I liked that little dance number.” I raised my eyebrows at her and started putting the groceries away.

  Her shoulders shook with silent laughter, and then Bree stepped in between us, looking between my face and Gwen’s. She opened her mouth to say something, but the doorbell chimed through the house.

  “I got it!” Brady yelled. “It’s Tess and Josh!”

  Gwen shot me a wide-eyed look and wiped her hands on her shorts. “A four-year-old answering the door is completely safe, I’m sure.”

  I stared at her ass as she walked away. When she’d cleared the door, I returned my attention to the groceries, and Bree was still staring at me. With a deep sigh, I stooped to her eye level.

  “What’s up? You look like you want to ask me something.”

  She pursed her lips and leaned forward to whisper, “Do you love her?”

  I lost my balance and fell right on my ass. My bony ass, with very little cushion, that bruised when it made contact with hard surfaces.

  “Shit.” I moaned and stood up, rubbing my left cheek.

  Lie. Lie. Lie.

  Screw it. Tell the truth.

  “I love all of you, Bree. You’re my family now.” I smiled to appease her.

  “First, we don’t say ‘shit’ and second, you love love her.” Her face lit up like a thousand-watt damn lightbulb.

  I laughed, shaking my head and making weird ‘pfft’ noises and some snorts. “I . . . huh? No, no. Bree, I love all of you, like, the same.”

  She planted her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “Boys are so dumb.” She turned on her toes toward the living room.

  “Admit it! Best game of your damn life!” Ian slapped me hard on the back and I tipped forward with the weight of the bowling ball in my hand.

  “Relax. Stop getting so excited about the bumpers,” I said. Brady stood next to me and I shooed him away with my foot. “I don’t want to hit you in the face, buddy. Then you won’t be able to spend the night with Josh.”

  His eyes widened and he stepped back three feet, giving me way more room than I needed.

  “Don’t choke!” Tess shouted as I completed a graceful arc, and I jumped to let go, sending the ball wobbling down the lane. It bounced from bumper to bumper, spinning, and then knocked down all the pins.

  Tess’ jaw dropped and I gave her a cocky smile. “Strike? Gotta love those bumpers.” I sauntered back to the seats where Cece and Gwen were laughing at Xander and Joshua, who were having some sort of nacho eat-off. Joshua had Xander b
eat by half a plate, but there was cheese all over his face and hands. I was both impressed and grossed out at the same time.

  “I’m going to puke.” Cece said and made dry-heave sounds. “Oh, God, I have such a weak stomach.” She clutched her sides and bent over, laughing and retching. “He’ll smell like cheese for two days straight!”

  “Which one? Xander or Joshua?” Gwen asked with a snort.

  “Ugh, Xander smelling like cheese is not my idea of a fun time,” Cece said, catching her breath and wiping her eyes. “This is disgusting.”

  Ian shook his head and took a drink of his beer. “Classic mistake, man. You drank beer first. Now the kid is kicking your ass.”

  “No swears!” Bree shook her head and stomped her foot on top of Ian’s, and he choked and sputtered on his beer.

  “Sorry, Miss Bree.” He chuckled and patted her head.

  “I’m not a puppy,” she said and slapped his hand away.

  “Andwew, hewp?” Brady tugged on my shirt, and I looked down at his pitiful face while he dragged his ball across the floor.

  I didn’t make a big deal out of the fact that he was trying to say my name right. I just grinned at him. “Come on, li’l man. Let’s get another strike for Miss Tess, whatcha say?”

  Tess made a face while I scooped Brady up and held him by the waist.

  “Okay, bend.”

  He folded in half, his arms hanging loose and his hands gripping the ball with all his might. I swung him between my legs and back.

  “Let go!” I said, and the ball went sailing down the lane, bouncing and hitting the bumpers until they knocked down all the pins, giving us yet another strike.

  “I win!” Brady jumped out of my arms and shook his booty, waving his arms like a maniac.

  I joined in with him, mimicking his moves and making a fool of myself, too. He giggled and gave me a high five before scampering off to watch Joshua finish eating his nachos.

  A warm hand gripped my arm, and I turned to look down into Cece’s eyes. She was smiling, her head cocked to the side, and biting the inside of her lip.

  “How do you do it?” she asked.