“You say mean things to me too.”
“But I don’t ever mean them. I don’t ever say things to cut at you. I say things in jest.”
“I didn’t mean it,” I insist, crossing the room and standing before her, trying to make her see how sorry I am. “I was just high and I always say stupid shit when I’m high. I can’t handle my emotions all that well when the pot kicks in.”
She laughs sardonically. “Right. Blame the weed, Win. That’s really grown up of you. It’s the same shit my mom used to do when she’d shoot up. She didn’t pay the bills on time because she was too high. She didn’t buy groceries because the ‘good stuff’ made her forget. She didn’t pick me up from school because the dope made her too tired. It’s just an excuse like she used to make.” She steps closer to me and her eyes darken so much they almost look black even from this close. “Face it, Winston—you didn’t say it because you were high. You said it because you’re a prick.”
I grab her wrist when she spins on her heel, not letting her get far.
She peers up into my eyes, still looking hurt and angry, and I try to convey with my own that I never meant to hurt her.
“I’m sorry, Drew. I’m sorry, okay?”
“Like I said, Winston, I’m used to it.”
She yanks her arm back, and I let her walk away.
* * *
“You have to be fucking kidding me.”
I roll over on the couch, blindly reaching for my phone on the coffee table.
12:13AM.
Riker’s crying.
Again.
Not long after Drew walked away from me, Riker woke up, lungs ready for another screaming match.
He’s cried. Drew’s cried. And I’m about to fucking cry because all I want to do is sleep and I can’t.
I passed on the pot tonight, taking what Drew said earlier seriously.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am just a prick, but the pot doesn’t help. Sure, it helps me feel calm inside, but it’s just a Band-Aid.
Pot is my bitch sticker.
And I’m no bitch.
I lie here for a few minutes, waiting for the familiar Shh, it’s okay, but I don’t hear Drew shuffle around.
I pull myself off the couch and make my way to my bedroom.
Drew is out cold, sprawled across one half of the bed, the fatigue having set in completely. Riker, who is usually blocked in on the bed with a fort of pillows, is nowhere to be seen.
I follow the sounds of the crying to the other side of the bed, and I’m surprised to find him swaddled in a blanket lying inside one of my dresser drawers on the floor.
“What the…”
Without a second thought, I bend down and scoop him up out of the drawer, cuddling him close to my chest.
He’s so tiny in my hands.
Warm and fragile.
An overwhelming sense of protectiveness falls over me, and I cup my hand around his little body like I can safeguard him from all the dangers in the world.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I tell him, just like Drew always does, bouncing him up and down a few times and ignoring the stabbing in my shoulder. “I’ve got ya, buddy. It’s okay.”
To my surprise, he begins to quiet down, nuzzling his face into my chest like this is exactly where he wanted to be all along.
I glance down at the bed, which looks incredibly inviting.
Sure, the new couch I bought is a million times better than the old one, but I miss my bed, and if I’m not smoking tonight, I’m at least going to be comfortable.
Slipping into the bed as smoothly as I can manage, I make myself comfortable and get Riker situated—complete with his pillow fort—between me and Drew.
I get the binky back into Riker’s mouth, patting his belly. “You’re all good now, little man. Nice and comfy up here. Go back to sleep for your mama.”
As if on cue, Drew stirs, and I slam my eyes closed because if I can’t see her, she can’t see me.
The logic of a fucking child.
“What’s going on?” she mutters. “What happened? Is he okay?”
I peel my eyes open. “He was fussing, so I figured I’d come in and help.”
“He was?” She rubs at her face. “Shit, I didn’t even hear him. I’m so fucking tired.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “Just go back to sleep. He’s good now.”
She looks down between us, her eyes quickly going to where Riker’s tiny fist is wrapped around my finger. He’s made it clear I’m not going anywhere tonight.
“He’s so perfect,” she whispers.
“He’s okay,” I say.
She chuckles, falling back onto the bed with a sigh. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear him.”
“I have no idea how you slept through it. He woke me up from the living room. Well, not like that’s saying much. I don’t sleep very well, especially if I don’t smoke.”
She twists her head toward me when I confess this, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Why was Riker in my dresser drawer?”
Shrugging, she says, “He sleeps in one at my apartment. I just figured he was missing it and put him in one tonight when he wouldn’t fall asleep. I’ll put everything back together in the morning.”
“Your kid sleeps in a drawer?”
“It’s cheaper than a crib. I’m not rolling in dough, in case you didn’t notice.”
I don’t say anything, because we both know the gravity of her situation.
“You don’t have to stay in here,” she says after several beats of silence play between us.
As if he can understand her, Riker begins to fuss again.
“Okay, okay.” She rubs his head. “I was kidding. He can stay, just as long as he doesn’t try to feel me up or anything.”
“Please. You’re the one who creeps on people when they’re changing.”
“I did not creep!” she whisper-shouts. “You were changing with the door open!”
“My bathroom.”
She sighs. “Shut up.”
“Admit it, Drew—I make you hot.”
“Moister than a fucking oyster,” she says dryly, closing her eyes.
I laugh and she swats at me. “Ouch. What was that for?”
“You’re going to wake the baby with all that shaking, and I will not help you get him back to sleep if you do that.”
“I don’t need your help. He clearly likes me.”
“He’s the only one,” she complains. “Go to bed, Winston.”
Grinning, I close my eyes, because I know she’s wrong.
Drew does like me.
Maybe not right now, but I know deep down she does on some level. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be so worried about the reasons I smoke.
In her own way, Drew cares about me.
And I care about her too.
“Hey, Drew?”
“Oh my god. Can’t you be quiet for two seconds?”
“This is important.”
She rolls onto her side, glaring at me. “What,” she mutters, grinding her teeth.
“I don’t think you have to worry about anyone not wanting to sleep with you because of your baby.”
“I was totally kidding about being moister than an oyster. I’m dryer than the Sahara right now. Quit hitting on me.”
I laugh again. “I’m being serious.”
“I am too. I’m tired. I’m not horny.”
“Drew!”
She smirks at me. “I know you’re sorry, Win. But I’m still mad, okay? Your words hurt me, even if you didn’t mean them. They’re real fears I have, and I didn’t care for hearing them spoken out loud.”
On one hand, her words elate me. She hasn’t outright forgiven me, but she’s not not forgiving me either. That’s a step in the right direction.
But on the other hand…god, it makes me feel like complete shit.
Does she really feel that way? That nobody is going to want her because she’s a single mom? Does she really expect to be alone the rest
of her life?
Maybe I’m just interpreting her words wrong…
“You really think no one is going to want you because you have a baby?”
“Uh, yeah,” she says like she’s being completely logical right now when she sounds insane. “A baby is a big fucking responsibility. There aren’t many people out there who are going to want to take that on.”
I would.
The thought hits me out of nowhere.
Would I really do that for Drew? For Riker? Would I step up and take care of them both even though they don’t belong to me?
Yes.
The weirdest part of all? Wanting to take care of them doesn’t scare me.
It feels…right, and not just in a Wow, what a good dude doing a good deed kind of way.
It’s more than that.
It’s them.
I’ve never wanted kids. They’re loud and needy and I like my sleep—whenever I can get it—and my freedom way too much to be saddled with a child.
But that doesn’t mean if the right someone came along and wanted kids—or had their own—I would run the other way. I would make it work. I would find a way to get over my preconceived notions and make it work.
That’s the way I’m feeling right now, like I’d find a way with Drew and Riker.
“Shit,” she continues. “Not even Chadwick wanted me, and Riker is his baby for crying out loud.”
I sneer. Just thinking of the jackass makes my blood boil. “Please. Chadwick is a tool with the worst name in the history of names. He’s an ass and by no means who you should be basing your future love life off. Fuck that guy.”
“I did, and look where it got me.”
I don’t laugh at her joke, because I hate the idea of someone else touching her.
Especially someone who doesn’t deserve her.
“For the record, I think you’re insane.”
“For the record,” she mocks, “I don’t care what you think. I just want to go to sleep.”
“Fine.” I roll onto my back.
“Fine.”
“Good night, Drew.”
She grunts again, kicking her feet like a kid throwing a fit. “Always have to have the last word, don’t you? Good night, Winston.”
I open my mouth.
“Don’t you dare say another word!” she warns. “Go. The fuck. To sleep.”
“That’s the name of my favorite children’s book.”
“You would read children’s books, since you’re a giant baby and all.”
“You’re mean when you’re tired.”
“Just when I’m tired?” She smiles sweetly. “Sleep, Winston.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Chuckling to myself, I close my eyes.
And I fall asleep faster than I have in a long damn time.
Slice Seven
Drew
Daylight drifts in through Winston’s curtains, and I swear in that moment that, to pay him back for allowing me to stay here, the second I get any spare cash, I’m buying him blackout curtains.
If it wasn’t for the damn sun blinding me, I’d still be sleeping peacefully. And truth be told, that was the best night of sleep I’ve had in a long damn time.
I peel my eyes open and glance across the sleeping baby to the other side of the bed.
It’s empty.
“Of course he’s gone,” I say aloud.
Disappointment hits me like a ton of bricks. It’s not like I expected us to stay in bed all day or anything. Winston isn’t mine to do that with, but…
I thought maybe after his moment of vulnerability last night, he wouldn’t be so closed off and we’d…well, I don’t know what I wanted exactly.
I just know I didn’t want him to be gone.
My alarm sounds and I reach for my cell on the bedside table, silencing it before it wakes Riker.
I roll over to wake my baby, only my hand hits an empty bundle of blankets.
What the…
I spring from the bed, racing around the other side to check the drawer.
Maybe last night was all a dream. Maybe Winston never came in.
Except Riker isn’t there either.
“Son of a…”
I sprint from the room, taking off down the hall to Sully’s bedroom.
Nothing.
The panic sets in.
I charge through the house, searching every room, but I keep turning up empty.
“My son is gone. Where the fuck is my son? Where is my baby?! Where—”
I hear his giggle and my eyes fly to the back patio I’ve passed so many times in my pursuit.
Riker is sitting comfortable in Sully’s arms as they watch the waves play along the shoreline.
I breathe a sigh of relief and make my way out to them.
“Sullivan Insert-Your-Last-Name-Here, you scared the shit out of me.”
Sully turns around, grinning at me. “Oops.” He bounces Riker. “Say, ‘Sorry, Mama. We just wanted to let you sleep in.’”
I pinch at Riker’s cheeks and he coos at me. “You scared me half to death, you little turkey.”
“Scott,” Sully says. “My last name is Scott.”
“Sullivan Scott.” I smile softly. “I like it.”
He shrugs. “It’s a name.”
There’s something in the way he says it, like he doesn’t love or hate it. He’s resigned to it.
Huh.
I brush it off. If Sully wants to talk, he’ll talk.
“When did he wake up?”
“I heard him about an hour ago.”
“I can’t believe I slept through him waking up twice.”
“Eh, you were tired, and you knew we’d take care of him.”
I grab Riker from Sully’s arm, giving him a kiss. “Is this what it’s like to have a partner? You get to sleep in occasionally and don’t have to worry every second of every day?”
“I don’t know about the worrying part.” Sully rubs at the back of his neck. “But I’m sure it makes everything else just a little bit easier.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem. He’s a good kid.”
“You keep taking such good care of my son and I’ll propose marriage. Wait!” I gasp. “Crazy idea here, but let’s run off and get married. You’re single, I’m single, Riker loves you—let’s do it.”
Sully laughs. “I don’t think Winston would be too fond of that idea.”
“Who gives a rat’s ass what he thinks? He doesn’t even like me.”
He grunts but doesn’t say anything else.
“Where is Winston anyway? I have to be at work within the hour.”
“He said he was going to the store, but that was a while ago. Do you need me to drive you?”
“No.” I sigh. “I can take the bus. This whole not-having-a-car thing is getting really old.”
“Do you know when it’ll be fixed?” He holds his hands up. “Not that I don’t like having you and my buddy here. I’m just wondering for your sanity.”
“You know, I’m not entirely sure. Winston set something up with Mr. Schwartz and said it would probably be a week, but we’re past that now. He hasn’t brought up that it’s ready, so I haven’t asked. Maybe I should.”
He nods. “Not a bad idea. We both know how…forgetful Winston can be.”
“You mean lazy. You can call him what he is around me. I don’t mind one bit.”
Sully chuckles. “I don’t think he’s always what he seems to be.”
I scrunch my brows. “You doing that hippie bullshit again?” I look down at Riker. “Oh god, you didn’t turn my baby into a hippie too, did you?”
Grinning, he shakes his head. “I’m just saying Winston’s an interesting guy. I’ve been living with him for a while now and he’s not always the lazy shithead he seems to be.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I adjust Riker in my arms. “All right. I gotta go get ready for work so I can get him settled and catch the bus.”
/>
“Here, let me have him. You go get ready.”
“Sully, I can’t have you watching my child all the time. It doesn’t feel right.”
“If I had a problem with it, I wouldn’t offer. Besides, I miss my siblings. It’s like having them around again. And it gets lonely here during the day.”
“Do you not work?”
He gives me a You serious? look. “Of course I work. I’m just off for the winter.”
“What?”
“I help run a fishing boat and we’re in the off-season.”
“You help run a fishing boat? How did I not know that about you?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t talk about it much, and we don’t exactly hang out like best buddies.”
“True. Okay, fine.” I hold Riker out to him. “He’s all yours then. I’m gonna run inside and get ready, then I’ll be out for goodbyes.”
Sully holds Riker up. “Wanna go watch SpongeBob with Uncle Sully?”
Riker grins then pukes all over him.
“Welcome to the joys of parenting!” I laugh, giving him a finger wave. “Toodles!”
* * *
I set Sully up with everything he’d need, kissed Riker goodbye, and booked it out the door so I could make the city bus on time.
“Come on, come on,” I mutter as the people in front of me dawdle their way off the bus in the slowest possible fashion.
Getting off at my stop, I race down the sidewalk, hook a right, and practically sprint the rest of the three blocks, trying frantically to beat the clock.
I wasn’t late a single time when I was pregnant and not even the first week I was back to work after I had Riker.
I’ll be damned if I’m late now because of Winston.
Simon’s standing behind the counter when I make it to Slice with just a minute to spare before my clock-in time.
“You’re late.”
“I still have one minute!” I insist.
“Please don’t tell me Winston’s rubbing off on you.”
“Ew, Dad. Don’t talk about Winston rubbing anything off.”
Simon shakes his head at his daughter as she slides up to the counter. “Where did I go wrong with you?”
“Wrong…or right?” she teases.
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