Cinderfella

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Cinderfella Page 10

by Xavier Neal


  MaKayla's face bursts into a smile. A genuine one. Immediately I know this fight is over. We're going to have to go.

  Now in her bright, cheerful voice she bounces in my arms, “Can we daddy? Oh please can we have ice cream? Please can we have ice cream with your girlfriend?”

  One word. Multiple slips. And the timing. The timing just keeps getting worse with it. If talking about my child won't be enough stress, having 'the talk' about where this relationship is going and can't go, will just be the cherry on top of this Goddamn day.

  “Princess…” I start in my stern father tone, which forces the tears in her eyes to return. Clearly she needs this. She needs time away from the apartment. Time where she feels safe with me. I fucking hate that her own home isn't safe for her. With a heavy sigh I brush the hair out of her eyes, kiss her forehead, and nod. “Okay. We can have ice cream, but I really don’t like to eat ice cream before dinner.”

  “Let’s stop someplace where we can get both,” Gianna suggests, a sincere tone of happiness in it. Unsure of what she’s trying to do or even thinking for that matter, she says, “You know what? Why don't we go to Pizzaland? There's all you can eat pizza and ice cream plus playscapes and games we can play together. How does that sound?”

  Expensive. That's how that sounds. In a defeated whisper I argue, “Gianna I can’t really afford that.”

  “My treat.” She unlocks the car doors.

  “Come on Gianna, you don’t have to. Seriously.”

  “I want to.” For a moment her eyes just stay planted in mine.

  In a hushed tone I fight, “You really don't have to.”

  “I want to take my boyfriend and his daughter to dinner. I think I reserve that right as the girlfriend, don't you?”

  See. Knew this was going to come back on me again.

  “Gianna--”

  “Stop fighting Connor and let's get this little Princess something to eat,” she snips before leaning over to talk to MaKayla again. “What do you think? Think we should go get some dinner and ice cream and play?”

  “Yay!” Mak squeals. “I like daddy's girlfriend!”

  “I do too,” I say on a light chuckle at the shift in attitude. Thankful to have her smiling instead of crying, I drop the fear that's lingering about this turning into a disaster. I'm sure it will. But for now, for Mak's sake at the very least, I need to enjoy this. “MaKayla can you say hi to Gianna?”

  “Hi!” She squeaks. “I like that you're my daddy's girlfriend!”

  “I like that I'm his girlfriend too,” she giggles in return before opening the back door. “And it's nice to meet you MaKayla.”

  “Mak,” I inform her. “You can call her Mak.”

  “Daddy calls me princess,” Mak announces loudly.

  “You are the prettiest princess I have ever seen,” Gianna's compliment sounds so beautiful that I can't resist what I do next. Leaning over I softy push my lips against hers unexpectedly. She welcomes the abrupt kiss with a brief touch of our tongues. She pulls back and stares in my eyes again, refilling the bucket of anxiousness. I know this will change things between us. Whatever things are about to change, but I hope I don't lose her as a result. I understand if I do. Asking your girlfriend to understand you have a child isn't easy, especially when you haven't graduated high school yet. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Let's get you buckled in Mak.”

  “And ice cream!” She energetically giggles again.

  Thankful to see her in a better state, I put her in her car seat with a smile, while Gianna looks over my shoulder. Under her breath she nervously questions, “You sure it's secure in there? You sure that's it's safe? Can she unbuckle herself?”

  I click her last buckle, drop Mak’s backpack at her feet, and turn so my face meets Gianna's. “It's fine. She's fine.”

  “You sure?” The concern has my hands landing on her hips. “Do you wanna drive? I mean--”

  “Gianna,” I cut her off slightly thankful to see this side kick in versus the opposite that I'm sure will catch up with me soon. “We're fine. Just hungry. So unless you've changed your mind, you wanna head us that direction? Mak didn't eat much today and is probably starving.”

  “Her daddy didn't either.” She pokes my chest.

  Once Mak's door is shut I state, “Money's tight. My daughter eats first and if there's food after that I'll eat.”

  “Tonight you're both eating.” Gianna lifts her mouth up to mine for a peck on the lips. “And so am I.” Skeptical I raise my eyebrows. “And keeping it down.” Seeing the relief on my face she says, “I was waiting to tell you about it, but after...after that day, I did a little online research and found a good therapist to start seeing and we're working on some things.”

  “Do your parents know?”

  “No,” she bluntly remarks. “They'd have to see me more than 10 minutes a week to know that.” Without giving me a chance to rebuttal, Gianna opens her car door. “Let's go.”

  I head for my side, but stop. “One more thing Gianna?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We can't talk about Mak's m-o-m or that situation in front of her. I'll explain, eventually, but not in front of her okay?”

  “Okay.” She nods. “Understood.”

  The three of us head to the pizza place with me primarily asking Mak how her day was and Gianna commenting where she sees fit. She takes time to ask my daughter questions that excite her and keep her mood joyful. At dinner we get three buffets, spend time chasing Mak around the indoor playground and racing her down the slide. I go back for seconds and thirds, leaving the two of them together allowing me to watch giggle fits and what it would be like if Mak had her mother in her life. If she had a female who cared enough to put her first. The longing to give my daughter what I can't affects my appetite each time it hits me. Pushing my plate away, I continue staring as Gianna pulls Mak's hair into a high pony tail. From the reaction on my daughter's face her entire day has been turned around as she motions her hands for Gianna to lift her up. Even if I don't deserve the happiness that's pumping through the air, my innocent little girl does.

  The two of them walk over to me, both beaming. Gianna looks down at me, “You okay?”

  “Yup,” I reply with a nod forcing a smile on my face.

  “Daddy see my pony!” Her tiny head wiggles back and forth.

  “It's beautiful. Did you tell Gianna thank you.”

  “She did,” Gianna answers. “Great manners. Very polite. Very sweet. But we both agree...it's ice cream time.”

  “Ice cream daddy!”

  “Alright, alright.” I stand and escort them over to the dessert area, Gianna still holding Mak, while my hand rests on Gianna's lower back.

  We look like a family. We sound like a family. We feel like a family. Doing my best to shake the solicitous swarming in my mind, I order us sundaes while the two of them pretend to fight over the better flavor of ice cream. As I grab our two bowls and let Gianna grab the other I can't help but notice the few over opinionated looks we receive. It's normal for me. The disapproval. The disgust. The judgment over being a teenaged father. It wasn't my fucking choice. But that rarely makes people or at least strangers any more understanding. Typically I ignore it and let it roll off my shoulders, but tonight the glaring eyes added to the shit storm of a day it's been are too much.

  “Daddy,” Make whines. “Eat your ice cream.”

  “Daddy's full princess,” I insist. “But you finish yours all up, so we can get you home. You're gonna need a bath.”

  “No bath,” Mak pouts licking her fingers.

  “You're sticky.”

  “No.”

  “It's not up for debate MaKayla. A bath when we get home.”

  Her ice cream covered mouth scrunches and the creation of another tantrum caused by sleep deprivation begins in her eyes.

  “I bet you have the best bath toys,” Gianna joins the conversation distracting her. When Mak nods she questions, “How about you show them to
me? Does that sound like a plan?”

  “Yeah!” Mak squeaks, ice cream dripping down her hands. “I show you my bath toys in the bath!”

  Firmly I state, “Gianna.”

  In the same tone she replies, “Connor.”

  “MaKayla!” My daughter adds with another round of giggles.

  I surrender the discussion for the moment knowing once we get in the car and Mak passes out from the car ride, I can explain to her why bath time with the three of us isn't just a bad idea. It's not even a fucking option.

  On the ride home instead of to my car, MaKayla tells the strangest story about something that happened to her at school until she passes out in her car seat, which has its obvious benefit of her getting extra rest and not having to worrying about her staying up late. The rest of the ride, aside from directions being given on the route to take, we make awkward small talk about school clearly trying to avoid the topic we both know we need to discuss.

  When Gianna finally pulls into my apartment complex with a very cautious look on her face she stutters to ask, “D-D-Do you need me to help you up the stairs?”

  “No,” I quickly reject. “I can handle it.”

  “Are you sure? I mean between carrying her, her car seat, your backpack, her backpack, and her new stuffed animals, I think it’s a little much. Why don’t you just let me help you carry them up the stairs?” Gianna parks in my normal parking space.

  I want to tell her how I'm worried not just about her safety but the safety of her vehicle. How the likelihood that someone tries to jack it as soon as we're out of it is high. “Gianna I—”

  “Connor, stop being stubborn.” She pulls her keys out of the ignition. “Grab your daughter and your backpack. I’ll get the rest.”

  Exhausted, any fight left in me for the argument or any argument for that matter is gone. I nod, and do as asked before leading us up to the apartment where I hear silence, an uncomfortable sound as far as I’m concerned. Putting the key in the door, I’m startled by the sight of Paul on the couch red eyed with a drunken expression, and my mother beside him legs apart, obviously drunk too, but thankfully passed out.

  “Well hey junior,” he sneers, rolling his head to me as Gianna slides in behind me. “Come back for another round?” After a chuckle he scratches the scruff on his face, “Didn’t get enough damage yesterday? Decide you needed some more licks?”

  Cradling Mak closer to me, I make sure my body stands in a protective position to defend Gianna if necessary. I won't let him hurt her either. He'll leave here in a body bag and me in handcuffs before I'd let him lay a finger on her. On a low growl I ask, “What the fuck are you doing here? Didn’t you get paid in pussy yesterday?”

  “That I did junior.” He wags his finger at me. “Felt like a double dose this month, but now that you mention it…I’ve got payment to collect elsewhere. Tell your mother I’ll see her same time next month.” Getting up he gives Gianna a dirty glance that flexes my body further. To my surprise she pushes her body into mine. I never wanted her to feel the fear I do. That my daughter goes through. She shouldn't have too. She shouldn't be here. But she is. And I won't let anything fucking happen to either of them. “Who’s the bitch behind you? She’s a looker.”

  “Don’t even fucking think about it,” I growl, clutching Mak tighter. “What I'd do to you wouldn't even compare to what I've done before.”

  “Threatin' me junior?”

  “Promising six feet under if you so much as look at my girlfriend the wrong way.”

  Paul smirks as he slides his leather coat on him. “Touchy touchy junior. Don't you worry your fucking island trash brain over it. I don't do jail bait.”

  Knowing how much I wanna sock him in the mouth for the insult, but more desperate to have him away from the women in my life I'll most likely die trying to protect, I let the comment go.

  “If you two lovebirds will excuse me, I’ve got money to make.” I take a step back, keeping Gianna pressed to me and out of his grip. He opens the door with a smug smirk, “Remember to wear a rubber this time. Wouldn’t want you to have any more brats you can’t fucking afford.”

  As soon as the door is closed, I shutter him away, and glance at my mother who is showing her choice of panties to the world in her pink mini skirt. Nothing about this day has gone the way it should've. If my father was here he would quote some ancient proverb about fate or destiny, but how is this either of those things? Fate and destiny both imply something good is happening or in the making, doesn't it?

  “This way,” I grumble and head down the hall towards my bedroom with Gianna in close proximity to me. I allow her to open my bedroom door to my thankfully neat room despite Mak’s hard attempts to undo that by insisting every section of our room is a different magical kingdom. She closes the door behind me as I gently lay MaKayla down to change her into her pajamas. I know she's sticky among other things, but after our day she deserves to stay asleep.

  In a whisper Gianna asks, “So this is where both of you sleep?” Receiving a nod she gives the room another look around. “Not really spacious.”

  “Well not all of us are as fortunate as you,” I whisper out, somewhat bitterly as I begin to change Mak.

  “Sorry. That wasn’t meant to sound bitchy.”

  Realizing she's right and the combination of being annoyed, sensitive about the subject, and on edge that the people I care about most may all be under one roof, but aren't safe, forces out an apology, “I'm sorry. It wasn't.”

  Gianna leans against the edge of our dresser. She says in an unsure tone, “Please don't take this the wrong way, especially because I am no child expert, she doesn’t seem like she has a lot of room to play.”

  The feeling of irritation starts stirring again. “She doesn't.”

  “I thought that was something children needed.”

  “It is,” I snip back, tucking Mak underneath the blanket once she’s in a clean pair of panties and a princess night gown. Shooting her an unpleasant look I explain, “But, I work with what I’m given. I usually move her toys to the living room, so she can have that kind of space. However you witnessed what lies on the other side of this door, so that is not always a logical option.” Receiving another nod, I turn back around, kiss Mak goodnight, and whisper an ‘I love you’.

  For a moment I forget that Gianna is even in the room as I watch my angel resting happily from a dream come true day for her. She had everything she's ever wanted for a few hours. That joy. That excitement. That love. All of it worth the rest of the fucking shit I had to endure for the rest of the day. Everything I do is worth it for her.

  Coming back to the reality that Gianna is still in my room, I turn on my heels. “Thanks for helping me up the stairs with my stuff. I can walk you back down now that she’s tucked in. Are you ready to go home?”

  Her eyebrows raise as she softly ponders, “Would you like me to go home?”

  “Is that a joke? I know you don’t wanna stay here.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I don't even wanna stay here.”

  “Well, maybe I do.” She turns the lock on my door.

  Not sure I can handle sexual frustration with the rest of the days unstable ground, I quickly say, “Gianna, you know we can’t—”

  “I’m not trying to do anything like that. I swear.” She lets out a heavy sigh, moves the hair out of her gorgeous face that has less make up on than I remember her having just a week ago, and makes sure to keep her eyes on mine. “I just figured maybe…maybe you didn't wanna be alone tonight? Maybe we could cuddle or something?”

  Skeptical I lift my eyebrows. “You wanna cuddle?”

  “That's what couples do right?” I give her another doubting look. “I don't know Connor!” The change in volume stirs Mak. Immediately she calms her voice back down, “I don't know if real couples cuddle or not. Or can share a bed without having sex, but can we try it? Is it so wrong to wanna spend the night with you? My jaw starts ticking, but I don't answer
. She shouldn't stay the night. She should've never came up those fucking stairs. Her life was put at risk. Mak's life in danger is enough on my conscious. I don't need hers too. “Maybe I stay the night and we lie together? I can give you two a ride in the morning...”

  On a deep sigh, knowing if she gave us a ride it would be easier than dealing with my hung over mother, I start to agree when Mak whimpers in her sleep. My eyes cut over just as she smiles in her sleep. I turn back to Gianna, “I don’t know. I mean if Mak wakes up and you’re here then that might—”

  “Give her hope that I'm here to stay?” I don't reply. “I understand where you're coming from, but how will she get used to me if not given the chance? Because guess what Connor? I'm not going anywhere. This doesn't scare me away any more than what you found out about me scares you. I'm still here. I'm still standing in front of you, so let me.”

  Baffled and worn out I drop on the edge of my bed, “Why Gianna?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you still standing here? Most girls--”

  “I have been most girls and I know you know that.” When I threaten a small smirk she pushes. “I want to be a part of her world, because that's being a part of your world. I care about you. A lot.”

  Hearing her say the words twists that small fraction of hope inside of me until it's wedged back exactly where it needs to be. To that place where I need it to be to get out of bed in the morning. After I clear my throat I motion her body to come over to mine. When she's standing in front of me, I pull her so she's sitting in my lap. “Alright you stay the night, but can you save all the hard hitting questions until tomorrow?”

  She places a small kiss on my cheek before she smiles. “Definitely.” Unsure if I'm making the right choice or not, I prepare to suit up for battle on the war inside once more when she pushes her lips sweetly on mine. The startle from me is brief as she places a hand on my cheek like a flag of victory for calming back down at the same time her tongue touches mine. Apparently tranquility can be found under her tongue. When she pulls back, a humming through my body has wiped out the last wave of insecurity over the situation. “Now...do you mind letting me borrow a t-shirt and boxers to sleep in?”

 

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