Stolen Tyme

by S. L. Ziegler

  “Yes.”

  “Did you check the outside? There’s nothing there.”

  She relaxes against me, sighing in relief. “I was so scared I’d be a freak at school.”

  “You’ll never be a freak. It happens, I swear. But I’ll wash them for you so your Pops doesn’t have to. But I want to give you something.”

  “A present?”

  “Presents.” I pick up the bags, laying them in front of her.

  “Why?” Her eyes question me, but her face can’t contain the excitement.

  “Every girl deserves some fun things when she finally becomes a woman.”

  A part of me aches for Zoey in this moment. She should be the one giving her daughter this. It’s a mother’s rite of passage when they have a girl. One I didn’t get to have with my own mother, and I’ll be damned if Charlie won’t have it because Zoey is a flake.

  Taking a peek inside, she lets out a shriek when she sees the box. “Is this what I think it is?” Excitement fills her voice.

  “I don’t know. Look.”

  She pulls out the brown box, Louis Vuitton etched in the center, the old bow tied around. Slowly, she removes everything, her fingers carefully lay on the small cross body. “Why? My mother said I didn’t deserve one ‘til I could afford it.”

  “It was mine. My first one. My dad gave it to me since he had no clue about what a girl needed.”

  “But…why don’t you want it?”

  “Because your…my Charlie.” My own emotions have begun to build inside. “Every girl needs a purse to hide their secrets. I was saving it to give to someone special.” She is mine. Not in the parent way. But in the ways that count. Only the ways that count.

  “But…no…I can’t.”

  “Shush, you can.”

  Charlie will never understand that she is my someone special.

  “Wouldn’t you want to save it for your own daughter?”

  “Nope. Keep it. One day you can pass it down to yours.”

  “Thank you.” She rushes into my arms, squeezing my neck so hard, and all I can do is return her embrace. She doesn’t need to know I couldn’t love her more than if she had my blood running through her. She doesn’t need to know that her mother should be the one to do this.

  “What else did you get me?”

  Charlie’s excitement washes away any thoughts of Zoey.

  “Look and see.”

  “What are these?”

  “Those are pads, the normal kind, thin, and you can walk with them without feeling like you’re wearing a diaper. They are a must.”

  “And candy?”

  “And candy.”

  “Movies?”

  “Yep.”

  “And Advil, ohh…a blanket? And a heating pad, and a bubble bath, ohhhh…what is this?” Charlie’s already giggling before she pulls out the bright pink outfit.

  “It’s a onesie.”

  “Why are there two?”

  “Because you and I are going to go change, pop in one of those movies, eat the candy, order pizza, and have the best veg-out day. Ever.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Charlie drops the candy from her lap to the ground as she pops up on her feet to jump up and down. Clapping her hands, she says, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  And I do.

  A rush of color creeps up my neck when I spot X leaning against the doorframe. I lock eyes with him as he nods.

  But I didn’t do this for him. I did it for her, because one day, when she gets older, she’ll share this with her own daughter. One day, she will know that I loved her, for only being…her.

  Chapter 11

  Xavier

  The floor below me creaks, the lights from the television shine down as I stare at my girls sleeping. I was beyond freaking out when I called Naomi, but she didn’t let me down. No, she went above and beyond anything I could think of. Three damn bags filled with shit just for Charlie. And she did it out of want for my girl. Not because I asked.

  I stood outside the door while Naomi talked to Charlie—opening up to my daughter—and when Naomi explained the purse, the part inside me that was torn with our time apart was pieced back together. The way Charlie hugged her, the way my girl told her she loved her for the first time… I was a new damn man seeing that sight, and a surge of gratitude rolled over me for the person Naomi has grown to be.

  A part of me wished Zoey would be the person I knew she was when we were younger, but she’s not. Zoey will never be the girl she was. She’s morphed into someone more interested in brawling verbally than having a conversation.

  A part of me is glad she did change.

  And another part wishes like hell Naomi was Charlie’s mom; she was born to be one.

  I place a blanket over Charlie before kissing her forehead. I don’t have it in me to wake Naomi up and make her leave. If I could keep her under the same roof, I would.

  Eternally.

  Naomi shifts in the bed and her eyes flutter open, her voice filled with sleep. “Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “It’s okay, baby. Stay.”

  “Are you sure?” The soft touch of her hand covers mine as she asks.

  “Yep.”

  Naomi doesn’t say anything else as she drifts off to sleep again, the hold on my hand never lessens.

  I wanted to love the person she grew into, and in the shadow of darkness tonight, I do. With my whole damn heart. I love the person Naomi Minter has grown into. This time, though…I don’t have to hide it.

  I don’t have to stop it.

  All I have to do is tell her.

  I follow the shrieks of laughter and music blaring in my kitchen. Pausing, I take in the scene unfolding in front of me. A scene so vastly different than the one years ago when I wanted to pull my hair out at the sight of Naomi making herself at home. But this time, I want her here. I want her in my house. To move in, to bake with my daughter, every morning.

  I’m fucked in the best way possible.

  “Do you think he likes them burnt, Omi?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Oh well, I tried.”

  “You did good. Even if he doesn’t like them, he’ll eat them since you made them. Fathers do that kind of stuff for daughters. I can’t believe you never made French toast before.”

  “My mom isn’t good at the whole cooking thing.”

  The muscles in my body tense while I wait to hear how Naomi will answer.

  “I’m glad I could help you then. You can never get enough French toast, so now you can cook some yourself. Only with permission, though.”

  I slowly step into the kitchen and take in everything—flour spread out, dirty dishes piled in the sink, the two of them dancing around in the ridiculous onesies Naomi bought. Charlie has a whisk to her mouth as she sings, and Naomi dances around the island before coming back to flip the piece of bread.

  I can’t help it. I laugh. Loudly.

  Charlie and Naomi both turn, eyes big as saucers when they spot me.

  “Don’t stop on my account,” I say, still laughing.

  “Oh shhh, Pops. We were going to bring you breakfast in bed,” Charlie laughs out.

  “I can go lay back down,” I joke, but that is the opposite of what I want to do.

  “No, you’re here now. I’m going to put you to work. Get the plates down,” Naomi says.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh…ma’am, I like that. Sounds like I’m the boss.”

  Or the mother, and I’m the father and Charlie is our child. This could be our ritual every Saturday if I had my way.

  “I bet you do.” I throw a wink over my shoulder.

  “Pops, Mom called and wants me back at her place today. She was going to come and get me in a few.”

  “Okay,” I respond, trying to keep my tone even.

  I lock eyes with Naomi over Charlie’s head. Her face has to be a mirror image of mine. Zoey should have wanted
to have her daughter last night.

  But she couldn’t find it in her—she couldn’t be bothered.

  Now, I’m in my kitchen with the family that would be my choice if I had one, only to have Zoey decide she wants Charlie back for the day.

  “I’m going to go change. Thanks for the help, Omi.”

  “My pleasure, honey.”

  We both wait for her to be out of earshot.

  She throws a dish towel down, her body going rigid and her face flaming red. “How can you keep your calm when it comes to her? After last night, I don’t even know what to do. I know it isn’t my business, so I should keep my mouth shut, but Zoey irks the shit out of me. I mean…”

  Her arms are stiff as boards and she goes silent.

  “Baby, you need to stop. It will boil your blood if you keep going. Trust me, I’m not okay with what she did last night, but me getting hot-headed over everything Zoey does won’t help anyone. I’d be pissed all the time and end up murdering an innocent person.” I wrap my arm around Naomi’s waist, bringing her to me and resting my forehead on hers.

  “But...”

  “Babe, I love that you’re protective of Charlie, I do. I get it. It’s great to see and feel. But if you let this shit boil over, it will trickle down to Charlie, and she’s the priority in all this. That girl up there is one of the reasons I’m better. My love for her outweighs my hate for her mother.”

  Naomi melts into my embrace as she takes in my words. “I hate it when you’re the bigger person in this relationship.”

  “It’s because I’m old.”

  “You are. Oh, is that some gray right there?” One corner of her mouth curls up as she plays with my hair.

  “Shut up.”

  “Make me.” She stands on her toes, speaking inches from my lips.

  “I will when Charlie leaves. After you take off your onesie. Because that does nothing for me.”

  “Hey, don’t knock the onesie.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Now that I think of it, I could do some crazy shit ripping it off.

  I place my lips down on hers when the sound from the doorbell breaks us apart.

  “Fuck, it’s Zoey.”

  “I didn’t think about it ‘til now. I stayed the night.” Her brows shoot up.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say. But I’ll worry about it. That’s a fire I will need to put out and fast. Zoey will use it against me. Hell, she’ll use anything against me.

  My feet are heavy as I answer the door, waiting for her to blow.

  Zoey offers one glance my way before nodding over me to Naomi. Ice drips from her expression. “What’s she doing here? I see you forgot about what the judge told you. I’ll have her fucking ass for this.”

  I hate her.

  Maybe not hate, considering she gave me Charlie. Well, fuck no, I do. I hate her.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare Zoey down. “She was there for your daughter when you were too busy. What were you doing? It’s not like you have a job, and I know your other daughter was at your husband’s mother’s house.”

  Zoey squints her eyes to me. “How do you know that?”

  “Call it a hunch.”

  A hunch I got right. She should be fixed to keep her from ever having children again.

  “Hey, Mom.” Charlie comes up behind me.

  I take a deep breath, fighting the urge to throw the door closed and keep Charlie with me. Some of the rage in me simmers down when I notice Charlie is still wearing the onesie.

  “What are you wearing?” Zoey’s disgust shows in her face and her nasty tone.

  Charlie glances down, a smile on her face. “Oh, this? Naomi gave it to me. I got this, too.” She lifts up the purse to show her mother. Her enthusiasm for that damn purse spreads out among us.

  “She did?” Zoey heaves a ragged sigh of disapproval.

  Naomi steps closer, her shoulders hunched, and her face twists in defeat. “Sorry, Zoey. It was my old one. I wanted…”

  “Next time, don’t give things to my daughter she didn’t earn. Now, Charlotte, we are leaving.”

  Charlie gives us both hugs before she walks out the door. Her whole demeanor changes the second Zoey touches her shoulder.

  I stare at my daughter as she gets into the car. The decision is made. I’ll file the papers on Monday. She will be with me full time, or I’ll fight until every penny I have is gone.

  Slamming the door shut, I mumble out, “I can’t believe her.”

  But Naomi isn’t here.

  Not in the kitchen.

  Or the living room.

  But she’s in my room.

  Face down on my bed, onesie gone, and my shirt replacing it.

  Crying.

  No, bawling.

  I creep closer. Placing a hand on her back, the sobs from her body go through me. “Naomi, what’s wrong?”

  She turns my way, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t…have…overstepped,” Naomi says between hiccups.

  “Babe, Zoey would have found something else to get pissed about.”

  Naomi only shakes her head. Lying down next to her, I try to console her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Hear me. Not a damn thing.”

  “I shouldn’t…”

  “No, listen. You were there for Charlie. That’s what this is about. Nothing else. She’s jealous, and rightfully so. Jealous of me, of you. Of your relationship that’s building with my daughter. That’s it. It’s nothing to do with you—may lightning strike me dead if I’m lying.”

  “I shouldn’t have played mom.”

  “You didn’t. You played the friend. When I was freaking out and couldn’t be a parent to her, you stepped up.”

  “You think?” Naomi questions, snuggling closer to my side.

  I push a lone strand of hair behind her ear. “I do think. And do you know what else I think about?”

  “What?”

  “That Charlie likes you better than Zoey. Than possibly me. You are her friend, her cool friend. That means more to her at this point than any time before.”

  I count every one of the silent seconds that pass between us, waiting for her to respond. Words enter my mind, like I will be okay if she needs more time. It’s natural for one to get there before the other.

  “X, don’t do this to make me feel better. One day, I think I could love you.”

  I’m stunned, surprise leaving me incapable of speaking.

  Speechless.

  A bite of regret pinches my heart to blurt it out.

  Her eyes search mine, and with each thump of my heart, the courage I feel grows again. Only I’m chicken. Too scared to tell her the truth.

  “You do?”

  Naomi’s chin trembles. Zoey’s hate and negativity are suddenly forgotten.

  “I do. And stop looking at me like that. I’m a mess.”

  “I must be blind then. I see nothing but my scorching-hot girlfriend.”

  She rolls her eyes, but I get the smile I want.

  She’s flawless, even with her being a hot mess.

  Bringing her lips to mine, we kiss like no moments have passed where we didn’t say those words. Not wasting another moment, we show each other how much we love the other.

  Chapter 12

  Naomi

  Life throws you curve balls all the time. Always. Sometimes, when you least expect them, others…well, others, when your life is going so well. Too well. You know that curve is coming sooner rather than later. You count down the moments until it arrives. And with how well my life has been going, I knew it was coming—braced for it. I waited for it with a bat on my shoulder.

  It had to be. I just didn’t expect that the swing I’d have to take to smack that ball out of the way would be in the shape of my father showing up at Xavier’s doorstep…at ten in the morning.

  I hide on the other side of the door, staring at him through the peephole. I don’t have the nerve to open it. His black T-shirt somehow looks just as menacing as his hard face.
His tattoos seem to glare at me through the door. With each blink, I can see why people take one look at him and run for the hills. That’s exactly what I want to do. Only, he’s my father, and I can’t run from him for too long. He will always find me. Damn.

  “Naomi, I’m not here to play games. You hear me? My fucking truck is parked in the driveway, and I saw you through the window. Hiding is fucking pointless. I’m going to give you to the count of five to open this fucking door before I make it my own personal firewood.” His voice booms.

  “One.”

  Deep breath.

  “Two.”

  Glancing down to make sure I’m covered.

  “Three.”

  The cold door handle does nothing to calm my nerves.

  “Four.”

  I try my best to smile. It’s fake. I know it. He’ll know it, but that’s better than having X’s door in splinters. “Pops?” It comes out unsteady.

  “Naomi.” Lock’s voice is monotone, and his face doesn’t crack, causing a shiver of apprehension to crisp my skin.

  Wiping my hands on my jeans, I take another broken breath before speaking. “What are you doing here?”

  Lock crosses his arms over his chest, not making any attempt to come closer. The mere sight of him feels like he’s looming over me. “I’m here to see my only daughter, because apparently, the only way I can spend any time with her is by showing up at a place I’d rather burn down than stand in front of.”

  I step outside and say, “Here, at Xavier’s house?”

  The place that feels more like home than the very house I grew up in.

  “Yes. Here.”

  I glance around, praying X stays down in the studio and doesn’t come looking for me. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I’m not a fucking dumbass.”

  “Oh.” I have nothing else to say.

  Lock had blinders on the last go ‘round, but this time, I should have known he’d be watching wide-eyed. I wish he’d pretend to look the other way. The longer he stares at me, the harder his eyes penetrate through me.

  “Yes, oh. Now, where’s this boyfriend of yours?” he says, cracking his fingers, narrowing his eyes at me.

  “Umm…bathroom?” Lie. Total lie. I’m not going to tell him he’s downstairs waiting for me to bring him tea because his voice felt rough. Nope, Lock won’t charge the bathroom. But he sure as hell will charge the studio.