by Xavier Neal
Exhausted I growl, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Hey!” My mother clears her throat. “Don’t be rude Connor! Go put MaKayla to bed and come back please.”
My eyes dart down to a glare at my mother, “I want her out before I get back.”
“Just go,” my mother shoos me away.
I refuse to give either of them another look. I take MaKayla to our bedroom where I lay her down in her dress. Slowly I start to try to pull it off when she begins kicking severely, waking up out of her sleep. Thank God it wasn't a moment sooner. Not sure I can handle that in combination with the world's worst dinner.
“No Daddy.” She pushes my hands away.
“What now?”
“I don’t wanna take it off.”
On a deep sigh I argue, “Don’t you want to get in your pajamas?”
“No,” she yawns clearly seconds from passing back out. “My princess dress. I wanna sleep in my princess dress. I love it. I love it so much. Please Daddy. Please.”
“Fine.” I surrender with a kiss to her forehead. Laying her down on her side of the bed I pull her blanket over her as she snuggles with the new doll that does look just like her right down to the bright green eyes. “You want daddy to pat your back?”
“Yes please,” she yawns again, this time her eyelids falling.
My hand pats her back while I stare down at her. I know she doesn't need the pat. She's out less than 10 pats in, but I need the moment. Just one to try settle the emotions from dealing with Gianna's parents before having to deal with the disaster that lies on the other side our door now. Removing my hand from Mak's back, I bury my face in it and my other one, not sure if I can force myself up to my feet. Can't this day just be fucking over already?
Relaxed enough to not try to destroy my apartment in a fit in an attempt to deal with the shit cards I'm being dealt, I stroll into the living room. My hands are stuffed deeply in my pockets, a stern look is on my face, and I let out a deep sigh, “What the fuck are you still doing here?”
“Can’t a girl get a hello?” She shakes her head folding her arms across her chest.
“No, but a girl can get the hell out.” I tilt my head towards the door.
“Connor!” my mother snaps. “You shouldn’t be so rude.”
“Really? This coming from the woman who has cursed her name since she walked out the door and left MaKayla with us,” I state making my mother blush.
“Hush,” she demands. “None of that. Now, you greet her and sit down and talk to her like you know you should. I’m...going to get a drink with—”
“Must you?” I refrain from throwing my hands up in the air.
“Yes I must.” She glares in return, heading towards the door.
“God, it’s not bad enough you’re leaving me here with her, but you’re going to go get drunk with that man who slaps you around like a prostitute in the Red Light District. It’s not enough I have to suffer through this when I get home, but then I'm going to have to take care of your wounds after you go 'get a drink'. Fucking seriously? I can't do this today. Let me rephrase that. I’m not doing this today.”
“Yes you are.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes Connor! You have to.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your mother and I said so.”
I shoot her a sarcastic look. “That might work if I were five and not the actual adult in this situation.”
With a growl she buttons her black jacket up. “Fine. Do it as a favor to me.”
“You let this into our home. Why the hell would I do you any favors?”
“Because it’s what a good son would do.” Her guilt card is one I can never manage to resist. “And at the end of every day, no matter what I've said or done, how hurt or upset you are, you are a good son...”
“Fine.” I give my face a quick scrub with my hand. “Fine.”
“Thank you,” she mouths before sliding out of the front door.
The moment my mother’s gone, I receive a look of innocence from the face on the couch. A look that I once bought, but never will again.
“You can go now too.” I point to the door behind me.
“You don’t even wanna talk to me?” her plea is one that once upon a time I couldn’t have handled. It would've had me tripping all over myself, desperate to be the one to make her happier. To have her on top of me letting my dick make all the sadness disappear.
“About what Ashley? How you strolled into my life, fucked me, and then left me with a daughter to raise all alone at 15?” I snap, leaning against the wall beside the door. “Which by the way, she’s doing amazing thanks for asking.”
“Is she?” the hopeful look makes my stomach churn.
“Don't,” I quickly snap. My eyes land on the ground unsure how much stability I have left in me. “Don't pretend you fucking care.”
“I do care.”
“No you don't,” I growl again. “Don't even...just don't.”
“Connor--”
“You’ve never fucking called. Or sent a text. Or a fucking email!” My wrath explodes. “If you had, if you had taken just one fucking moment to think about her instead of yourself, you might know some basic shit about her. Like she’s on the learning levels of a four year old, just having turned three. By the way she had a great fucking birthday.”
“Did she?”
“You'd know what kind of cake she had for it if you were here! You'd know she just started dance classes on Tuesday at her preschool. You'd know the name of her fucking school! You'd be able to look me in the face and tell me her favorite movie and the only thing she’s ever wanted to be when she grows up is a goddamn butterfly.”
Bewilderment appears on the woman who's only given Mak a little of her coloring, but no other dominant features. “A butterfly?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Butterflies are her favorite creature because they’re beautiful and free. Free from everything with nothing to fear as well as nothing holding them down. She wants to be a butterfly to fly to see God and ask him why her mommy didn’t love her enough to stick around.” My head rests against the side of the wall.
Ashley looks as if she could cry, “I…”
“Oh don’t even,” my eyes roll at her. “Just don't. You didn’t have to run away! You didn’t have to leave her! You didn't have to abandon her and never look back! All of that was your fucking choice, so I never wanna see you shed a damn tear about her.”
“I—”
“You shouldn’t even be here right now. You really should go.”
“I—”
“You have no right Ashley. No right to be here.”
“I gave birth to Kayla!”
“MaKayla!” I scream in return. “MaKayla. And congratulations for doing at least one thing right in your life.”
“I am her mother Connor!”
Offended I pop up off the wall. “You are not her mother! I’m her mother! I’m her father! And I’m Goddamn Santa Claus as well as the fucking tooth fairy until some spoiled eight year old brats tell her otherwise. You…” My head shakes in fury. “You’re nothing more than the womb that carried her for nine months.”
Her bottom lip trembles, “What do you want me to say? Sorry?”
“If I cared, it would be a good place to start.”
“You know I’m sorry Connor. I didn’t know what I was doing back then…”
“Oh and I did?” I defend myself. “I had an instruction manual on how to be a teen parent!”
“I was scared!”
“And I wasn’t? God, you still act like you were the only one in that situation Ashley! You weren’t okay? I was in it too! I had no idea what to do! I wanted nothing more than to run away like you did, but I didn’t. I stayed. I grew the hell up because I know what it’s like not to have a father and thanks to you now my princess knows what it’s like not to have a mother!”
“I’m sorry Connor!” She screams back, her dark brown shoulder length hair whipping side to side.
I try to regain some composure realizing all the yelling is going to wake Mak up even though she’s usually a pretty hard sleeper. With a deep breath I sigh, “Will you please just leave?”
“No.” She insistently shakes her head as tears fall. “Not yet. I wanna talk.”
“We have. Just now.” My shoulders shrug. “We're done.”
“I wanna talk about MaKayla.”
“She's fine. Pretty well adjusted given the fact her mother deserted her. She’s better off not knowing you exist.”
“She needs a mother.”
My voice can’t help but mumble, “She has a mother.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” I clear my throat and head towards the kitchen, the distance a must. How much more shit am I gonna leak out without meaning too?
“No! I heard you,” she calls to me. “What do you mean she has a mother? What’d you do? Replace me?”
I lift my head from staring at the kitchen counter and stare at her through the bar window. “Let’s just say someone loves her and is taking care of her as much as I am now.”
“So you did replace me?”
“Replacing you implies you were there to be replaced.”
“Does MaKayla call her mom?”
Refusing to answer I press my lips together.
“She does, doesn’t she?” I stay silent. Leaping off the couch, Ashley rushes to yell at me through the bar window. “Answer me!”
“Yes!” I break. “Yes! She calls her mommy! She acts like her mother so it fucking fits!”
“That’s bullshit!”
“That's fucking reality.”
“I wanna be there for her!”
“You’re a couple years too late.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yeah Ashley you really are.” I shake my head. “You coming back into our lives would be a big mistake, and I’m already a little busy paying for the last mistake you caused, so do us all a favor and do what you did the first time and walk away.”
Her light brown eyes stare at me as she whimpers, “Is that how you remember our relationship?”
“What relationship?” my fingers clink the counter. “We got together to have sex. I wanted to be committed to you, to save you from everything I thought was hurting you and you wanted to sleep with half the school, which you did. And—”
“No you wait! That’s not fair—”
“That’s not fair? No what’s not fair is you sleeping with everything that threw a couple dollars at you like some sort of hooker. It’s not fair I had to not only have a daughter right before I turned sixteen, I had to make sure I didn’t have a disease too. It’s not fair that I’ve dedicated my entire life to raising a child on my own. It’s not fair you walked out and left a newborn baby without so much as a goodbye. That’s what’s not fair.”
Watching her eyes water up again, I scan her face that’s aged so much from the last time I saw her. She’s got age lines that my mother has, which is badly being covered by cheap make up, and her complexion looks washed out, something I’ve learned happens from too much drug usage. My mother's a drug addict. My daughter's mother is a drug addict. My daughter's temporary mother is a recovering drug addict. What the hell is wrong with me? I asked Gianna once why she lives to hurt herself. I should've been looking in the mirror.
“Being with you was one giant mistake resulting in one amazing miracle. One amazing miracle I will not let you take away from me.”
“I don’t want to take her away.” She sniffles wiping away the wetness on her cheeks. “I just want to be a part of her life.”
“Why? Why now? What could’ve possibly happened to you to make you want to be a part of her life?”
She slightly shrugs, “I was sitting in church when—”
“Church?” my voice slightly chuckles. “You’ve found God and now you feel you want to be in her world? Now you want to 'right the wrongs' you’ve done? Look for forgiveness? Shocking.”
“No,” Ashley snaps. “It was more like I was sitting in church and the scripture touched me. Then a conversation I had with a close friend who ended up in the same position I was once in. She just made me realize that I needed to be a part of my child’s life before it was too late to look back.”
“It is too late.”
She nods slowly. “I knew you’d say something like that. That’s why if we can’t settle this here, I’m willing to go to court to file for custody.”
Shocked at her tactic, I raise my eyebrows and fold my arms. “I’m sorry. See, I’ve already done that. When you disappeared for an entire year I gave up hope and went and got the rights to my daughter. You missed the trials and custody was awarded in my favor…so.”
More stunned than before I simply watch as she whines, “You can’t do that!”
“I can. And I did.”
“Come on Connor have a heart!”
After staring at her for a few moments I decide the only way to end this shit storm that I can barely even qualify as a day is to curl into my bed, shut my eyes, and pray for guidance out of hell hole I've fallen into.
“Look Ashley, I’ve already had a really long night, and you being here has been like shooting off fireworks during the worst drought in the history of existence, so if you could please excuse me I’d like to go to bed and check on my daughter.” I make my way towards the front door to let her out when she grabs my arm.
“Connor please! Please, just think about it okay? Or let’s talk again in the morning or something. I wrote my number down on the coloring book. Please. I wanna see her even if only for one day,” she begs. “I need to see her...”
Feeling my heart ache, compassion dying to sprout, I open the front door, before it blossoms further. “If I change my mind, I’ll let you know. Goodbye Ashley.”
“Good night Connor.” She gently touches my chest before slinking past me out of the apartment.
I shut the door with a quiet click and walk back towards my bedroom hitting every light switch on the way hoping the dark will bring ultimate blissfulness of some sort. Crawling into bed next to Mak, I pull her in close to me, nuzzling my face beside hers. I do my best to try to sleep but lay awake as time seems to drag on. The only thing to bring me comfort when my heart aches entirely too much to bear, is stroking MaKayla's soft peaceful face. Everything I do, I do for her. And I need to start remembering that.
Chapter 14
When the sun finally starts to leak through the blinds I let my eyes start to close making the grown up decision that today, I’m not going to go to school and neither is MaKayla. At least not until my shift.
Around the time I should wake up for class, my mother pops her head in the room, “Connor you need to—”
“No.”
Taken off guard, not even aware that I'm awake she starts again, “Connor you need to—”
“No.”
“Connor you need to—”
“Shut up,” I grumble pulling the blanket over my body.
“Connor—”
“Not today mom. I’m not going to school and neither is Mak until I have to go to work.”
“But—”
“You may be able to fight your hangover and venture into work, but I had a very traumatic night and would prefer to be left alone for the day. All day, but since that's not a possibility because we have bills to pay, I would at least like the courtesy of being left alone until my shift starts. Now, good night.” I snuggle down deeper in the sheet.
After a long pause, her voice whispers, “Wanna talk about it?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Not knowing how to respond she simply sighs, “I don’t have a hangover because I didn’t drink.”
“I’m thankful for the attempt to make me laugh mom but—”
“I’m serious Connor,” she slides into my room a little further. “I didn’t drink.”<
br />
“For some reason I don’t believe you,” I reply from underneath my pillow.
“You don’t have to. I didn’t get a drink last night, and I broke it off completely with your stepfather.”
Ripping the pillow off my face I sit up and sigh, “You did what?”
“I broke it off last night.” She licks her lips slowly. “And I decided that I’m going to start going to AA meetings and maybe rehab, well a rehab like program or something. We make hardly enough for the lifestyle we need, me going to an official program isn't likely, but there are alternatives that are less costly.”
“There are.” I confirm. Confused I raise my eyebrows, “But why? Why now? Why’d you decide to quit? Why now all of a sudden?”
She points to my peacefully sleeping daughter. “I don’t know, Connor. There’s something about realizing I’ve ruined one child’s life that really makes me not want to ruin another.”
“Yeah?” My voice croaks. “And what brought on this realization?”
“That girlfriend of yours sure has a way with words sometimes.”
Propping myself on my elbows I whisper, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The other day we were doing dishes together while you and Mak were playing in the living room and she said something that just…” my mom’s voice trails off. “We’ll talk about it later okay? For right now, I have to get to work. You enjoy your day, rest, and we’ll talk more when I get home. Okay Connor?”
“Sure.” I nod in slight confusion.
The second she shuts the door I flop my head back on the pillow. Gianna did the one thing I haven't be able to since my father died. She got through. To my mom. To me. To Mak. And now I have to fucking let her go? Just walk away before all the good she's done turns to shit. How the fuck does that seem fair? How am I supposed to have faith through something like this?
A few minutes later. MaKayla rolls over and wakes me up to have breakfast. I fix French toast, bacon, and eggs, before I set her up to watch movies with her new doll, color, and turn the living room into her play area while I nap in and out on the couch until early afternoon when I’ve had enough rest. At that point I grab my phone out of my backpack.
Noticing the numerous missed calls and texts from Gianna, I do my best to merely clear the list and call Nelly feeding her a small lie about Mak running a fever. I'm dismissed for the day, but I promise to make it all up on the weekend, extra hours if needed. As soon as she lets me call out, I hang up, and toss my phone aside only to hear a knock at my door. MaKayla’s attention turns from the movie she was watching, to me. Confused, who could be knocking on our door in the middle of the day. I hop up to answer it.