Pieces of Him
Page 8
“What the fuck?” I mutter. My eyes glued to the couch taking in the sight of Emelia asleep on my couch with Xander asleep on her chest. I stare at them wide-eyed and full of confusion. I don’t like feeling confusion. Being left in the dark is not my favorite thing. I don’t like wondering what in the hell happened to my babysitter that now has my neighbor snuggled up to my son like she’s his fucking mother. My first instinct is to slam the door shut to wake her up, but that would wake Xander, so I shut it as softly as I can, walk deeper into the room, and stand over them.
They look peaceful there, natural even, and I imagine Keri might have looked that way with him had she lived. Reaching down, I give her leg a gentle shove; she takes a short, quick breath as her eyes flutter open. She takes me in, watching as I lift Xander up and off her chest and put him down in his sleeper.
“Hey,” she greets quietly pushing herself up to a sitting position.
“Where’s Dana?” I question taking a seat next to her, careful to keep some distance between us.
“She got drunk. I found her stumbling out of your apartment trying to take Xander for a stroll …”
“Excuse me?” I ask quietly, unable to hide the edge of rage from my voice. She notices it, her back going straight and her eyes guarded.
“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head and places her hand on her chest like she’s pledging allegiance. “I know it was none of my business, but I couldn’t just let her leave with him. She could barely even walk.”
My fists clench involuntarily, but it does nothing to calm the mounting anger. “You’re telling me that my babysitter got drunk when she was supposed to be watching my son then proceeded to try to leave the building with him like that?”
Her eyes shift from me to Xander and then back to me again. “Um. Yes, that’s what I’m telling you.”
“What. The. Fuck?”
She looks at me as though I’m a predator, she’s my prey, and I might rip her head off. She’s not far off the mark, but it’s not her head I want to rip off. “Well, you’re obviously pissed, so I’ll just be going.”
“Where is she?”
“Who?”
“Dana. Is she sleeping that shit off in my room?”
“Um.”
“The babysitter,” I reiterate for her because clearly she’s not keeping up right now.
“She left.”
“You kick her out?” I ask, cocking my head to the side thinking she saved Dana from my wrath.
“No. I wouldn’t let her take Xander, and when I brought him back into your apartment, we had words. She got mad at me and left.”
This just keeps getting better and better. You cannot make this shit up. “You had words with my babysitter, and she just left you here alone with him?”
“Yes.” She nods cautiously.
“She left a complete fucking stranger alone with my son?”
“Yes.”
I shoot up off the couch and head back toward my keys. “Wait here,” I call to her, but she’s on the move and hot on my tail.
“What are you doing?” she asks half-panicked.
“I’m going to commit murder,” I tell her grabbing my keys and turning toward the front door. I’m forced to stop because she’s there. Her hands are up in a placating way as if she’s trying to give me the energy to remain calm.
“Okay, I know you’re mad right now, but this isn’t going to help anything.”
“It is. I’m gonna teach that bitch a lesson she’ll never forget. She’s gonna think twice about ever doing anything that stupid again.”
“You can’t do that.”
“The hell I can’t,” I say moving toward her. I don’t care if I have to push right through her on my way to the door. Her hands come up to my chest, and I look down at her wordlessly telling her to get out of my way.
“Max, this isn’t helping. If you do something crazy, then what’s going to happen to Xander? You have to stop, sleep on it, and you can have a discussion with her about it tomorrow.”
“A discussion? You think a discussion is going to fix this?”
“No,” she answers honestly. “But it’s the best you can do. That little boy already lost his mom, and for now, all he has is you.”
For now? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Then it dawns on me … she’s still under the impression that I’m giving Xander up because of my asshole remarks the night I met her. Under normal circumstances, I might set her straight, but I’m not in an explanatory kind of mood.
“Please. Please just think about it. Don’t do something you’re going to regret later. It’s not worth it.”
I can tell she’s teetering on the verge of fear, standing up to a guy like me when she knows I can easily remove her from my path. I can easily hurt her. Yet she stands here, hands on my chest and taking me on because she cares. Maybe not about me, but she cares about Xander and I can’t get mad at that. It doesn’t hurt that she’s right, either; I’m all this kid has and if I get into it with Dana, I might just end the night locked up. I run a hand through my hair and let out a defeated breath.
“All right, fine.” I take a step back and toss my keys back on the table. “How long have you been here?”
“I don’t know, four hours maybe. I didn’t have any way of getting in touch with you, so I just hung out. He’s a really good baby, Max.”
Damn but she’s pretty, I think as I watch her, the way she keeps herself guarded while giving me pieces of honesty.
“Thank you for stepping in. That could have gone a lot worse if it wasn’t for you.”
“You’re welcome.” She moves to the couch and picks up her purse, her movements jerky like she’s not sure if she should stay or go. “Ah, he had three ounces at around five.”
“There goes my shower,” I mutter.
“What?”
“Nothing, he just usually wakes every three hours. It’s about that time, so I’ll take a shower later.”
“You can do that now if you want. I’m here already, so I can wait around for a bit.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“No. I don’t have any plans, plus it’s Friday. It’s not like I have to be up early for work or anything.”
“All right, thanks. I’ll just be a minute.”
“Take your time,” she says dropping her bag back on the couch. I go into my bedroom, grab a change of clothes, and head to the bathroom. I take my shower, trying to enjoy every last minute of it, but I can’t because my mind is on the fact that I just lost my child care. It’s the weekend; there are no daycares open that I know of on Saturday and Sunday and this leaves me in a fucked-up mess.
“Goddammit,” I say through gritted teeth. I finish up in the shower, pull on my sweats, and head back out into the living room. Emelia is back on my couch, legs crossed, Xander in her arms taking his bottle. Her eyes come up to meet mine completely happy and unguarded for a brief moment before the light in them dies down.
“Feel better?”
“Somewhat,” I answer honestly.
She nods understanding that there’s no way I can be completely calm after what happened today. No one could be calm after something like that.
“I figured you’d be hungry, so I made you a sandwich. I hope you don’t mind I made myself one earlier too.”
I don’t know why, but I almost flinch at hearing her say that she made me a sandwich. A fucking sandwich. It’s probably nothing to her but to me … I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone make me food before. My father fed me up until he had to and then I took over, learning how to heat up anything in a can to keep myself from starving.
“You didn’t have to do that. Thanks.” I don’t know what else to say. I feel like an idiot, but she just smiles and turns her attention back to Xander. I head into the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the stools, and inspect the sandwich she made for me. Turkey and cheese. Simple and easy and probably took her all of five minutes to make, yet it’s the most perfect fucking sandwich I’ve ever see
n.
“Max?” Emelia calls as I swallow the first bite out of my food.
I look up to find her eyes on me again. “Yeah?”
She hesitates for a moment before speaking again. It’s clear that I make her uncomfortable. “I know it’s none of my business but …”
“But what?” I probe.
“How much longer will Xander be with you?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers, looking back at him. She smiles, but it makes her look sad. “He’s just so tiny.”
She’s killing me, the way she’s looking at him, the way she’s taken an interest in him. How the thought of him going away makes her look so fucking sad.
“He’s not going anywhere. I’m keeping him.”
Her head shoots up, her face unable to hide her surprise. She shakes her head at me. “But I thought you said ...”
“I was pissed. It was a new situation. I didn’t know what I was saying.”
“I get that.” She smiles timidly at me. “It must have been a shock for you to suddenly be a single father.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“You know my initial offer stands. If you need anything, I’m just across the hall.”
“I appreciate it.” I take a drink of the soda she set out for me and shake my head. “Right now, I’m worried about who I’m going to get to replace Dana.”
“Right,” she says, pulling the bottle from Xander’s mouth and positioning him over her shoulder. She starts alternating between patting and massaging his back, and I think the kid’s probably in heaven. I usually just pat his back till he burps, but what she’s doing probably feels loads better. “Oh, I met one of the neighbors upstairs the other day. Her name is Mrs. Park, and she’s a retired teacher. Maybe she’d watch him.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, there’s no harm in asking, Max. She told me she was starting to get bored all alone. Her kids live in Pennsylvania, and she only sees them once or twice a month. She said she was considering looking for work.”
It does sound ideal to have a teacher looking out for Xander, and she can’t possibly be any worse than fucking Dana.
“I can take you and Xander up to meet her tomorrow.”
“All right.” I acquiesce because I don’t have a choice. I don’t care how cool Jack is, I can’t afford to miss work right now. Too much is going on, and I need the money. I can’t stay in this apartment forever with Xander, and even though I have decent savings, I need to make sure I stay ahead of my finances.
Emelia resumes feeding Xander looking totally comfortable with him. She looks like she’s been caring for him since day one. I wonder if it’s just a chick thing that all women are born with. That nurturing ability. Then again, my mother proves that not all women are born with the mothering gene.
“You’re really good with him.”
“I worked at a daycare center a few years ago.” She’s speaking to me but she’s still riveted by him. The kid’s clearly got her wrapped around his little finger. I’m almost jealous. I get up to throw my plate in the sink before walking back to her and taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch.
“Why would you help me after how shitty I was to you?”
“It didn’t start out that way. I was helping him. He couldn’t help himself. Now, you’re not quite the asshole you presented yourself to be so …” Her lips tip up in a barely detectable smile.
“So you’ll help me too?” I grin at her, and I know it’s flirtatious, but I’m a guy. What do you expect?
“I guess I’ll help you too.” She’s prettier than I remembered. Or maybe my life has been such madness that I forgot. I wonder how she can be so shy and alternately get in your face in the blink of an eye. I wonder what she’s doing here all on her own because she’s young. I can tell … maybe too young. I wonder how she would look in the moments before she’s about to come. Jesus Christ, I’m a pig, but she’s beautiful and I’m not fucking blind.
“He’s totally out.”
“Yeah.”
“I changed him before I fed him, so he should be okay until his next feeding.” She can’t look at me, and it makes me wonder if she knows what I’m thinking. Can she feel how the air in the room has changed because I feel it. “You should get some sleep before his next feeding,” she says. She gets up and lays Xander down. As she straightens, I push off the couch and come to stand next to her.
“Yeah,” I repeat. I sound stupid, but what else am I going to say. I’ve seen this girl on three occasions, and I didn’t make a good impression on either of the first two.
“I guess I’ll come by tomorrow to take you to meet Mrs. Park? Around noon, okay?” she questions grabbing her purse and heading to the front door. I follow her thinking about what a dick I am that I want to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her to me. Make her feel exactly what her presence here does to me. I don’t, though. I reach out and grab the knob opening the door for her.
“Noon’s good.”
“Great.” She smiles up at me on her way out, and as she walks by, I can’t fight the pull. I reach out and catch her hand giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Emelia,” I call, and she turns back, her eyes on our conjoined hands. She recovers and lifts her gaze to meet my eyes.
“Yeah?”
“What you did today, for Xander. Thank you.” I release her hand and take a step back; she steps back too.
“You’re welcome, Max. Good night.”
“Good night.” I watch her walk across the hall.
Watch her as she puts the key in the lock, turns it, and opens her door.
I continue to watch as she moves through it and into her apartment.
I keep watching her as she turns to close it.
Watch as her eyes catch mine right before her door shuts.
Only then do I go back into my apartment. I grab a blanket off my bed, bring it out into the living room, and spread it out on the couch. Lifting Xander up again might wake him, so I decide to sleep out here for now. I lie down on the couch, close my eyes, and let my body relax. My mind goes back to Emelia, to what she did today, and how she protected Xander. I think about how crazy I got at the thought of something happening to him, and it unsettles me. I don’t know how to react to that; I don’t know what to do with how I feel about him and why. I’m thinking about that when I fall asleep, and it’s the first time in two weeks I’ve had a dreamless sleep.
Max~
The sound of my cell ringing wakes me up at eleven in the morning. Xander was up every three to four hours last night. Finally, I gave him a bottle at eight this morning, and afterward, we both fell back to sleep. The phone’s caller ID tells me it’s Dana calling, and at the sight of her name, last night’s events come crashing back into my mind and I’m furious again.
“What?” I answer through gritted teeth.
“Max?” She sounds scared; it’s the correct emotion. She should be fucking terrified of me right now. "I know you’re probably pissed at me but …”
“Pissed?” I say disbelievingly. Pissed doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I feel for her right now. Enraged would be more like it. “Bitch. You better pray you never see me again because I’ll show you pissed.”
“I was just having a bad day. Being around Keri’s boy … yesterday was two weeks since she died. I guess it just got to me.”
How dare she fucking remind me of what yesterday was? As if I could ever forget, as if I don’t live with that shit every day. Nobody feels Keri’s death more than I do because she left me with a permanent reminder. I’d like to drown that shit away in a bottle too. I’d love to forget for one minute that she’s gone. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel so goddamned guilty for not loving her.
“Yeah. Then you do your job, take care of her boy, and wait till you get home to get wasted.”
“I know.” She whines like a child, and it grates my nerves. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“No.
You won’t do shit. I don’t want to see your face again, Dana. I’m warning you.”
“Wait,” she drawls on as if a lightbulb finally went off in that dim head of hers. “You’re firing me?”
“Are you fucking shitting me?” I ask because the bitch cannot be believed. “What did you think was going to happen? Did you think that I was going to pat you on the back and say no worries?”
“I just ...”
“Do not come back here,” I say, before hanging the phone up. I run a hand through my hair and say a silent prayer for patience. If this lady Emelia’s taking me to meet today doesn’t agree to watch Xander, I don’t know what I’m going to do. If I was forced to put him in daycare, there’s no way I’d be able to contribute to my savings the way I have been doing. Instead of dwelling on it, I make Xander his next bottle so that it’ll be ready when he wakes up. I use the free time to get Xander’s clothes for the day and get myself dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans. I’m putting socks on when I hear him start to cry and I head back out into the living room. I snatch up the bottle I made him, scoop him up, and sit on the couch with him.
“Hey, bud, you hungry?” I have no idea why, but when I talk to the kid, he almost always seems to calm down. It’s as if he knows me, as if he knows I’m his dad.
I give him his bottle and when he’s done, I set him down while I go make myself a cup of coffee. It’s almost odd the way we’ve fallen into a routine of sorts, but it’s also refreshing not to have to go through every single minute of my day wondering what to do next. When I make it back to him, I grab his change of clothes and a fresh diaper so I can get him ready to go. I smell him immediately; this is the worst part of taking care of him. I wasn’t cut out to clean shit.
“All right, kid, you stink. Let’s get this over and done with,” I tell him unzipping his pajamas. I pull the sleeves off him and when I get to his legs, I stop dead. “What the fuck?” I ask horrified at the sight. “Xander, what did you do? Jesus Christ, it’s everywhere.”
He looks at me as if the sight of me fascinates him, and all the while, I’m fighting back the urge to hurl. The kid blew out his diaper, and shit is literally everywhere. I have no idea how he could possibly have made such a mess of himself in the last ten minutes. I don’t want to know, and I seriously consider waiting for Emelia to get here and begging her to deal with this for me.