by Josie Wright
“Dad, you still there?”
“Yeah, sorry. I was just surprised by the news. Wow. How are you dealing with it?”
“It’s a shock. But I already love him and couldn’t imagine my life without him. He’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. And, so is Frankie.”
“Well, congratulations. I’m glad you’re happy.” He clears his throat before he continues, “And how is your Frankie dealing with you being back? Has she forgiven you?”
“Not so much, no. But I think we will get there.” I laugh, thinking of this morning. “It’ll take time and some work. I hurt her and she’s hesitant to let me back in. Especially with Archer. She doesn’t want me to disappoint him. It’s hard for her to trust me. It sucks, but I get it.”
“You shouldn’t let her treat you like this. Your needs count, too.” His voice is angry, more so than I ever heard from him. His reaction confuses me.
“What are you talking about, Dad?”
He sighs. “Sorry. I just want you to watch out. You don’t want to sacrifice everything for her to crush your heart. Like your mother did with me.”
Talking to him is frustrating at times. It’s not like I needed a reminder of how fucked-up my situation is. It’s not something I can forget. But what I hate even more is that he would compare Frankie to my mother. The urge to speak up for her is overwhelming.
“Don’t worry. Frankie isn’t like that. She’s just scared.”
“Just be careful. I don’t want you to end up like me.”
Yeah, neither do I. But thanks for the reminder, Dad.
“I’ll be careful,” I say to appease him. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Not with him. His reaction isn’t what I hoped for. Some rational advice would have been nice. Or just him being happy for me. Since that isn’t likely, I decide to change the topic. “So what is new with you?”
It’s all the encouragement he needs to tell me about the most recent breakdowns other patients had. I guess those are the most exciting things that happen in his life. I try to listen, but my attention is mostly on Archer who is now abusing his poor stuffed bear, tugging at his nose, ears, and eyes with determination.
My dad is still going on and on, when I hear the door open and Mrs. Walsh calls my name. I rush out a goodbye and hang up before she’s even made it through the door.
“Hey. We’re in the living room.”
Walking in, she ruffles my hair before she walks over to Archer and does the same to him.
“You two doing well?”
“Yeah, we’re just hanging out. All is good so far.”
“I knew you could do it. Hope you don’t mind me checking in on you.”
“Not at all. Actually…” I sniff the air. “…I think you came at the right time. He might need his diaper changed.” I give her my most charming look.
“Then you better get to it. I’ll text Frankie in the meantime. Knowing her, she’s probably climbing the walls, worrying about you two.”
Grudgingly, I take Archer upstairs. Even after having done this a few times, it doesn’t get easier. And definitely not any less disgusting.
When we come back downstairs, Mrs. Walsh is sitting on the couch, flipping through the TV channels, not paying us much attention.
While she watches some talk show, I play with Archer, bouncing him on my knee and making him fly through the room like a little, drooling airplane. After a while we’re both out of breath, me from hauling his chubby behind around and him from giggling so much. So I plop us down on the couch.
“So tell me, did you come back to stay?”
Damn, she doesn’t beat around the bush, but neither do I.
“Yes. I’m staying as long as she’ll let me.” I look at Mrs. Walsh to find her studying my face.
“She’ll let you. Just don’t give up on her. She needs some time.”
“I hope she will. I know I fucked up. I never meant to hurt her,” I explain, needing one less person to hate me.
“I know. And so does she. I’m sure of it.” Mrs. Walsh smiles at me, her eyes full of compassion. But then she turns serious and I dread the next question. “Why did you leave?”
Contemplating how to answer, I clear my throat. “Some shit went down in my life. I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I had to figure things out. I was fucking miserable and I didn’t want to drag Frankie down with me. I would have been toxic for her. Leaving was the best thing I could do for everyone, although she might not see it that way.”
Mrs. Walsh just nods, encouraging me to go on and so I do.
“I didn’t stop thinking about her. She was always on my mind. That’s why I came back—for her.”
“Good answer. It’ll all work out. You’ll see. I’m old enough to know that a storm never lasts. Sooner or later the sun peeks out again between the clouds. You just need to hang in there.” Mrs. Walsh stands up and walks to the kitchen. “Why don’t you put Archer down for his nap and I’ll make us some lunch?”
Once Archer is asleep and we’ve eaten, I notice the Xbox in the living room and decide a round of Gears of War might be just the thing I need. It doesn’t take much convincing for Mrs. Walsh to join me. She quickly gets the hang of the game and saves my ass multiple times. And it doesn’t take her long to be able to chat while playing.
“So what were you doing while you were gone, other than being miserable?”
“Drinking too much and fixing up furniture, as well as houses.” I omit the fact that I was fixing up my own house, not wanting to wake any sleeping dogs.
“Hold on,” she says, pausing the game. “You can fix stuff?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I might have just the job for you then.”
Ten minutes later, I’m freezing my ass off on her porch, attempting to fix her swing, while she stayed behind to look after Archer. Thankfully it’s a quick fix once I know what I’m doing.
“Your swing is fixed,” I announce walking through the door, shrugging out of my jacket.
“Ben, if I wouldn’t worry about Frankie kicking my ass, I’d ask you to marry me.” She cackles, batting her eyelashes at me. “Instead, how about you fix my window tomorrow? It doesn’t open, hasn’t in years.”
Laughing, I take Archer out of his playpen, nuzzling his tummy.
“No problem,” I reply, then add, “And I have my doubts Frankie would give a damn.”
“Oh, you poor, deluded fool,” she says dramatically.
Our conversation is interrupted by Dean and Alex coming home.
“Hey, everyone,” Dean greets us. “Who is a fool?”
“Apparently me.” I mock glare at Mrs. Walsh.
“That’s not really any news to me,” Dean remarks, his voice serious, not laced by even a hint of amusement. I understand he’s mad on Frankie’s behalf. I get it. But I wish he would just say what he has to say so we’d stop dancing around each other.
“You got a problem with me?” I try to keep my voice even and relaxed. No need to let this get out of hand. I don’t think Frankie would appreciate me knocking Dean on his ass.
“Me? A problem with you? No, why would I?” he drawls with sarcasm dripping from every word. “Because you treated someone dear to my heart like shit? Because you broke her heart? Now, why would I have a problem with that?”
“Settle down, guys. This isn’t productive or helpful,” Alex chimes in with what I imagine is his lawyer voice.
He’s come around to stand next to us reaching out to take Archer in his arms. Reluctantly, I let go. Not because I don’t trust, or like Alex, but because jealousy rips through me seeing how comfortable and easy everyone is around Archer, while I question myself every few seconds.
“Come to Alex, little nugget. Let’s leave these two to their silly fight.” With Archer in his arms, he makes his way to the kitchen to join Mrs. Walsh, who is watching us like we’re a science project.
“I get that you’re not my biggest fan—” I start, but am interrupted by Dean muttering, “You could say that.” Undeterred, I
continue, “And you have every right to dislike me. But I’m trying here. I want to make up for the shit I pulled. I know I fucked up.” I think about my next words, but Dean’s expression is less than encouraging. His lips are pursed, his eyebrows raised half an inch, and his arms are folded over his chest.
He won’t make this easy for me. I need him on my side though. Or at least to stay the hell out of Frankie’s and my business, so I have a chance to repair what I’ve broken. I decide to be honest. “You don’t have to like me. I’m not expecting you to. Can you at least try to give me a chance here? Frankie values your opinion. I have no chance of proving myself to her if you hate me.”
He stares at me for a moment before he relents. “Fine. But don’t make me regret it.”
I just nod. There isn’t anything else to say.
Once Dean goes over to Alex to greet Archer, I know the situation has been diffused. But another peace offering can’t hurt.
“How about I cook dinner for us tonight?” I suggest and know it’s a good idea when Mrs. Walsh proves herself to be my number one fan again.
“You repair things and you cook. I’m not sure my old heart can take it.”
Alex perks up. “You repair things?”
“Yeah, why?”
I catch Dean shooting Alex a glare, but it doesn’t stop Alex from talking.
“Hmm…well, we’ve been trying to fix up the house, but between work, school, and lack of talent or enthusiasm, the only room actually fixed upstairs is Frankie’s.”
“Hell, that isn’t a problem. I can start tomorrow if you want.”
Alex’s face breaks out in a grin, while Dean continues to shoot daggers at both of us. But once we start talking ideas for their room while I prepare the food, the tension starts to dissipate. The thought of getting his room fixed seems to make him hate me a little less. I’m not above taking advantage of that.
Viv gets into the conversation as soon as she’s through the door. Between trying my pasta sauce and discussing the color scheme for her room, she even starts calling me by my first name instead of douchebag. So far day one has been a success. With the help of her little family, I might be able to convince Frankie I’m not the asshole she thinks I am.
Chapter 23
One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
Two days later, Mrs. Walsh is too busy meeting up with her girlfriends to hang out with me and Archer. So it’s just him and me.
Frankie fed him after he woke up and changed his diaper, much to my delight. I love Archer to bits. More than I imagined possible. But this whole diaper-changing business—it’s absolutely disgusting. Women must have some built-in resistance to deal with it.
With that daunting task out of the way, we go play in the sunroom. All the pillows laid out on the floor make it a perfect place for a little baby. There is not much he can hurt himself with.
I sit across from Archer, trying to teach him to play ball with me. I roll the ball toward him and he catches it right away, holding it up with both of his pudgy arms.
“Roll it to Daddy, Archer,” I encourage him.
My efforts are useless as he’s busy lifting the ball higher and trying to lick it. This makes him lose his balance and he topples back onto the pillows, his arms and legs up in the air, the ball in front of his face.
I scoot over to him, peeking out behind the ball, which sends him into a fit of giggles. And so a game of peekaboo begins. I could do this for hours and never get bored with it—making him laugh and smile. Frankie was right when she said he’s a happy baby.
He’s the best medicine for a bad mood. Any worries or negativity dissipates around him.
But I promised Dean and Alex their new room, so I should get to it. Sighing, I get up with Archer in my arms, when my phone starts to ring. A look on the screen has me smiling.
“Hey, Al. What’s up?”
“Hey. Everything’s great here. The more pressing question is, how are things going for you?” Allie’s voice is bright and cheery, even in the early morning hours.
“Better sit down,” I warn her. “The short version: I saw Frankie again. She’s not my biggest fan. We have a son and I’m living with her, her friends, and my son in Northampton.”
A high-pitched squeal follows my revelation and makes my ears ring. Even Archer leans back in my arms and away from the phone.
“You’re a dad? Oh my God. I need pictures. Now. He’s not as miserable as you, is he?” I try to get a word in and answer her questions, but she’s unstoppable.
“Jake. Ben has a son. With Frankie. He’s a dad. Of a cute little baby boy. Can we have a baby?”
I start laughing when I hear Jake groan. “Thanks, man.”
They start arguing about babies and timing, ignoring me completely, so I hang up. Archer is tugging at my necklace, demanding my attention and he gets it when I kiss his head. When they say babies’ heads smell divine, they definitely don’t lie. Someone should bottle the smell up and sell it. It would make millions.
Back in the living room, I’m busy buying a sander online to take care of the wood floors. It’s not an easy task with Archer on my lap trying to hit the keys. It’s a miracle I’m successful without accidently spending a few thousand on other stuff thanks to my son’s enthusiasm.
I’m surprised when the front door opens and a disheveled looking Viv saunters in. At first I think she was out delivering a baby, but when she takes off her jacket and I see her top is inside out, I realize that’s not the case.
My eyebrows rise in question. “Doing the walk of shame?”
She lifts her chin in challenge. “That would imply there is something to be ashamed of. So the answer is no.”
I laugh at her defiant attitude. “Point taken. Didn’t know you were dating someone.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not. We’re just fuck buddies.”
Though her blunt honesty surprises me, I like it. “Okay.”
“I don’t do relationships, but a vibrator is only so satisfying,” she continues. “Besides, it definitely can’t eat you out like you’re a five-star meal.”
For a moment, I’m a little shocked by her statement, but her no-fucks-to-give attitude impresses me. It’s how I used to be before all the lies and deception changed me. I’d always speak my mind without caring what people thought or expected.
“Good for you, then.”
“What you’re doing?” she asks, while sitting down next to me, her eyes on the screen. Archer immediately loses interest in me and the laptop and strains to get to Viv. Once on her lap, he just keeps looking and poking the colorful tattoos covering nearly every visible inch of her skin.
“Buying some tools to work on the rooms.”
“Oh, fucking awesome. I was thinking for mine you could build this…” She takes off into a thirty-minute explanation about her ideas and vision. She even follows me to Dean and Alex’s room, seated in the hallway, Archer in her lap, babbling on while I work.
Later that evening, Frankie and I bring Archer to bed. First she reads to him, but since he’s still awake, I decide to sing him a song. It worked like a charm last time.
Frankie sits down on the floor, her back against the side of her bed, her legs stretched out. She looks at Archer and me, a gentle smile on her face softening her features. For the first time, she appears unguarded around me.
I want to sing something not just for Archer, but for her, as well. Something with meaning.
I settle on “Here Without You” by 3 Doors Down, hoping she’ll understand this is about us, about how I felt without her for the past months.
I start to sing, my voice low, and I cradle Archer to my chest. The light in the room is dim, only the lamp on the nightstand on. I focus on Archer at first, but once his eyes flutter closed and his breathing slows, I look at his mother.
Her knees are drawn to her chest, her arms and chin resting on top of them. She looks at me, but the earlier smile is gone. Her expression is more wistful, her eyes sad.
I don’t miss the glossiness of unshed tears and it rips me apart to see her like that. The woman who used to kick everyone’s ass, who was unstoppable. I hurt her. I know I did, and I have no idea how to make it up to her. No clue how to undo the damage I caused.
I finish the song and tuck Archer into his crib after kissing his forehead.
Straightening up, I turn back to Frankie, not sure what to say, but overwhelmed with the need to say something. To make things better somehow.
“Frankie—” I start, but she interrupts me. She speaks quietly, like she’s hesitant to ask. “Where were you, Ben? Where did you go? Why?”
Her voice breaks, betraying how much she needs an answer. An answer I’m not ready to give her. An answer that could make her run from who I might become one day. Who would want to be with someone who isn’t right in the head?
“Frankie, can we not talk about it?” I say, my tone gentle.
“Sure. Why not? Not like I give a damn anymore.” She gets up and walks to the bathroom. “I’m going to bed. You can do whatever the fuck you want.” She closes the door to the bathroom behind her, and I’m left standing in the room by myself.
Winning her back won’t be easy, not while I’m keeping secrets from her. It feels like every time we take a step forward, we take two steps back.
Chapter 24
Mission Accomplished
It doesn’t get better the next day, despite my attempts to flirt with her, to coax her out of her shell.
It seems by now everyone has warmed up to me except her. Do I trust Dean and Viv to not castrate me if they get the slightest inkling I might screw her over? No. But my cooking talent, the work on the house, as well as my love for Archer have allowed them to see more in me than the asshole who left their friend behind.
Before dinner, I go to my room to call my dad.
“Ben?”
“Hey Dad, what’s up?”
“Thank God, you’re all right. I haven’t heard from you in a few days.” He speaks with a slightly shaky voice, emotions getting the best of him. It puts me straight on edge. I never know what to expect from him and it’s exhausting. Having to watch what you say and how you say it makes the conversation with him tedious. But above all, those moments are scary because they make my fear even more real.