by Lisa Shelby
Watch your back bitch!
What the hell?
A chill runs down my spine as I hold the note in my now clammy hand. I scan the school parking lot to see if there’s anybody around, but I don’t see anybody. I jump in my car and head out of the parking lot much faster than you are supposed to in a school zone, and I haul ass to Ireland’s school. I know just giving her a squeeze will calm me down, and knowing she is okay is all I can think about.
I pull into the school parking lot, park haphazardly and rush from my car to the front doors of the building. At first I don’t see her playing in her usual spot over by the doll house, but after a quick look I see her in the back sitting on a teacher’s lap. She looks lethargic and her cheeks are rosy.
“Hey baby girl, what’s wrong?” I ask moving her hair off of her face.
“I don’t feel good, momma,” she whimpers.
I know when she calls me momma there’s something wrong. I’m usually mom or mommy but when she’s sick, tired or pouting she pulls out the momma card and it gets me every time.
“She had a temp of a hundred and one when we checked about five minutes ago. We knew you would be here any minute to pick her up so we hadn’t texted you yet,” her teacher explains.
“Wow, poor baby. Come here and let’s get you home and feeling better,” I say as I take her from the teacher’s arms and into my own. I can instantly feel the heat radiating off of her.
“I know you know, but just a reminder that she won’t be able to come back to school for twenty-four hours after her fever is gone.” Turning her attention to Ireland she says, “You feel better, little one, and we’ll see you later this week.”
Shit! I’m going to have to miss work and I have class tonight! Thank God it’s an online class and I don’t have to go anywhere.
“Thanks, Beverly. Hopefully she’s better soon and just misses tomorrow.”
Ireland is limp as I carry her to Justine and isn’t much help as I get her snapped into her big girl booster seat. She’s quiet all the way home and practically asleep by the time we get to Mickey’s. I hate that we’re at Mickey’s and now not only does he have the two of us invading his space, but he has a sick child to put up with. I know he doesn’t look at it that way, but I hate to be a burden to him or to anybody for that matter.
When I walk in the front door, Mickey’s sitting on the couch, eating cereal and watching TV. When he sees that Ireland is not her usual self he instantly jumps up and asks if he can help. I tell him she has a fever and I don’t want him to get sick either, but he tells me to shut up, takes her from me and carries her to her room. I bust out the Children’s Tylenol and have her drink it down, then I get her in her jammies and sit with a cold, wet, wash rag held to her forehead. I settle in for what I’m sure is going to be a long night, with a sick Ireland and class to get through. It’s a glamorous life, I know, but somebody has to live it!
Ireland’s fever finally broke around midnight on Monday night after she threw up all over her bed and herself. Mick got home from work shortly after while I had Ireland in the bath trying to clean her up. He came in and stripped her bed, started the wash and put clean bedding on her bed for me. He sure does have moments that just melt my heart. Once he settles down he’s going to make himself a great dad and husband. It may be years from now, but he’ll get there. It’s just going to take the right woman.
It’s now Wednesday and I’m sitting at my desk waiting for the bell to ring so that I can head home. Between taking care of my baby girl, class and not sleeping from worrying about life and where I’m headed, I am exhausted. Throw in the fact that every text from Jonathan makes my heart soar and butterflies dance around my insides and there is no sleep happening in my world. Fingers crossed Ireland will want to take a nap or at least watch a movie and I can crash next to her for a bit.
Ah, there it is, the gift that keeps on giving . . . the bell that says I get to go home. I gather all of my belongings, say goodbye to Heidi and I bail. I cannot get to my car, to the pre-school and to Mick’s fast enough.
Before I even reach my car though, I stop in my tracks when I see a piece of paper stuck under my wiper blade again. I look all around and don’t see anybody, but I still approach my car on high alert. I look under the car and check the back seat before I grab the note and get inside.
Smart of you not to come to work yesterday bitch!
Once again I race out of the parking lot and to Ireland. I just don’t understand why this is happening. Is this about Jesse? I don’t know who else would want to threaten me. This just doesn’t make sense.
Just as I reach the school my phone pings and tells me I have a text. I see it’s from an unknown number and break out into a sweat when I read it.
Unknown Caller: You will get what you deserve—Just stay away
I drop the phone in my purse like it has some sort of disease and sit in my car trying not to panic. What the fuck?
Calm down Emily. You have to walk into the school and get your daughter and not freak her out. Just breathe and get home to Mickey.
Mick looks like he’s getting ready to head out to the gym when Ireland and I walk through the door.
“Uncle Mick!”
“Hey I, how was school today?”
She throws her backpack on the floor, runs to him and jumps in his arms.
“It was fun, we learned about our personal pace and if somebody is in your pace or doing something you don’t like, the nice way to tell them to stop is to hold your hand up like this,” she demonstrates by holding her hand up a few inches from his face. “And say pease stop!”
“Oh, so the next time you get in my personal space to give me one of your icky girl kisses, I just have to say please stop and you have to stop?”
“You don’t love my kisses, Uncle Mick?”
She says as she looks down and her lower lip starts to come out but Mick is quick and starts to tickle her as he tells her, “Of course I do! I was just joking with you, silly!”
“I knew it!” she yells out between giggles.
“Mick . . .”
As I stand in a calm panic and watch all the cuteness in front of me, I can’t help but whisper Mick’s name. When I realize he can’t hear me over the tickles and giggles I try again.
“Mick,” I say a little louder.
He finally looks at me and I can tell that he can read my face and knows that something is wrong.
“Hey I, why don’t you go in your room and pop in one of your movies so I can talk to your mom. I’ll be there in just a little bit to check on you.”
“Okay, Uncle Mick but you have to have one of my icky girl kisses first!”
She kisses her uncle on the cheek, he thanks her as he sets her feet on the ground and she scampers off to her room without a care in the world.
“Emmers, what’s going on?” Mick asks.
I hand him the note and show him the text message without a saying a word.
“What the fuck, Em? When did this start?” he yells as his face turns red with anger.
“I found a note on my car on Monday, but Ireland was sick and I got so distracted with her and school that I forgot to tell you. Then when I left work today there was another note and then five minutes after I found this I got the text. I have no idea who would do this, Mick. The only thing I can think of is that I noticed some abuse on a student at work and I reported it, but the dad is in jail and there isn’t a mom around so I’m not sure if it’s his family or not.”
“I want you to write down the name of the kid you reported and his dads name if you have it. I want to make sure he really is in jail. Could there be anybody else? A pissed off student? A jealous co-worker? Anybody at all that you could have pissed off?” He says while I watch him try to calm himself by opening and closing his now clenched fists.
“No Mick, I can’t think of anybody else. It has to be somebody with my phone number . . . I just don’t get it.”
“Well, you are not going to work the rest
of the week!” he orders.
“Yes, I am Mick!” I shout.
“No, you aren’t Em!” he shouts back.
“Mick, if I don’t go then they win and we’ll never catch them.”
“Shit! I’m supposed to leave Saturday morning for my hunting trip with the guys! I’m gonna call and cancel. There is no way I am leaving you two home alone,” he says pacing and pulling his phone out of his shorts pocket.
“You are not going to cancel your trip. I’ll have mom come over and we have Frank. It will be fine,” I try to convince him as much as myself.
“Oh, mom will protect you? That is supposed to make me feel better? Leave all three of you home alone together for a week? I don’t think so.”
“Mick, you have an alarm on the house. Even if it’s not monitored yet it will still make noise. Frank will bark if anybody gets near. I’ll have Cami and Alex hang out and you can leave me numbers to any of the guys you trust that I can call if I get scared and need them to stop by and check things out.”
“Anybody I would trust is going with me . . . wait . . . Kelly . . . I can have Kelly do drive-bys and check on you every day. You cool with that?”
Oh big brother if you only knew. . . .
“I’m cool with that, Mick.”
Count On Me
Jonathan
Standing at Mick’s front door I raise my hand to knock and my mind goes back to the frantic text I got from him a couple of days ago. It was telling me what some asshole is doing to Emily and if I would mind stopping by to check on her every day while he was off hunting. He also said that he had given her my number in case she needed anything. He would freak the fuck out if he knew that we already had each other’s numbers and that I was in love with his little sister. I don’t even want to think about that conversation.
When I read his message, the first thing I wanted to do was find whoever was doing this to her and kill the son of a bitch! There is nobody else I would want watching over her while Mick is gone. In fact, I don’t plan on letting her out of my sight.
I know Mick told me to come by in the evening to check on her, but here it is ten o’clock in the morning and I’m already here knocking on the door. Mick texted me to say thanks when the guys hit the road, and I ran to my truck to get here as fast as I could. The thought of her and Ireland home alone with somebody out there threatening her brings out a possessive side I never even knew I had.
The sight that I see when Emily opens the door is probably the best thing I have seen in five years.
In front of me stands Emily, with an embarrassed shade of pink coloring her make-up free skin, her hair is up in a mess on top of her head, and her long legs are on display in her short little boxer shorts. But the best part? The best part is that on top of those boxer shorts is my old USMC t-shirt. And if my eyes do not deceive me there isn’t a bra on under that t-shirt.
She stole my t-shirt, has kept it all this time and still fucking wears it! There is a God!
“Hey,” she barley squeaks out.
“Hey, Em. Mick told me he wanted me to check in on you while he was gone, so here I am.” I’m trying my best to keep a straight face when all I want to do is give her shit about my shirt. It’s so hard to keep my mouth shut and the smile off of my face.
“He just left like ten minutes ago. I don’t need a babysitter but it’s nice of you to come by.”
She sounds irritated and I can tell she’s trying to brush me off when I see a little head full of blond curls and big brown eyes sneak past Emily’s leg. As soon as she sees me she jumps up and down in her footy pajamas.
“Jonafon! Mommy, Jonafon’s here!”
Thank God for this kid because she grabs me by the hand and pulls me right past her mom and into the house. She takes me over to the family room table where her dolls appear to be having a party. I can see a stack of books and Emily’s computer open on the kitchen table.
“Do you wanna play dolls with me?” Ireland asks. How could I ever say no to her?
“Baby girl, Jonathan doesn’t want to play dolls,” she says to Ireland and then turns her attention towards me. “Besides I was just trying to get some studying done while she played, so see? We’re all good.” She’s still trying to get rid of me.
She squirms a little bit as she tries to cover her bra-free chest with her arms crossed in front of her. I think she’s hoping I won’t notice the t-shirt she’s wearing, but there is no way I would have missed that.
“I’m good. Why don’t we play dolls and you do your studying for a bit?”
“Yeah!” My little partner in crime yells, affirming that my idea is better!
“No, you don’t want to babysit,” she says still fighting me.
“I won’t be babysitting. I’ll be hanging with my new friend just a few feet away from her momma. Sounds like fun to me.”
Weakly she says, “Jonathan, you don’t have to do this.”
“I know but I want to,” I assure her.
The thing is I really do want to. She is losing this battle so she may as well just wave the white flag now because I ain’t goin’ anywhere!
“You do not,” she says as though I am pitying her.
“Come on Ireland, let’s give your mom some peace and quiet and you can show me your room and we can play a game or something.”
“Can we play dolls?” she pouts, not letting me get away with not playing dolls so easily.
This kid already has me wrapped around her little finger with those big brown eyes of hers. I am a goner and it looks like I will be playing dolls for the first time in my life.
“Sure we can, princess.”
“Why you call me princess?” she questions me, sounding confused.
“Well, it says it right there on your pajamas,” I point out.
Ireland looks down at her pink pajamas—that have a princess crown on the front with the world Princess below it—and then gives me a little curtsy and a smile.
Yep, I’m a goner.
“Sorry, we thought we were just gonna have a lazy day at home and we haven’t really gotten dressed yet.”
“No worries at all. I like this look on both of you,” I say with a smile. “Ireland, let’s get your stuff and you lead the way.”
As Ireland and I gather all of her things off the family room table I can feel how excited she is and how embarrassed her mom is. Walking past Emily with my arms full of dolls, I just can’t resist when I lean in close and whisper, “Nice shirt.”
Heading towards Ireland’s room, with my back to Emily, I can’t help the shit-eating grin spreading across my face.
This little girl is mesmerizing. She is smart, engaging, funny, and so sweet. She gets this all from her mother, of course. Spending time with Ireland, surrounded by all of her things I am struck by the fact that this is all Emily. She has raised Ireland all on her own as a young woman, working, going to school and with Cami as her only bit of family with her along the way. To see this kind little soul that she has created is awe-inspiring.
It’s now around noon and after dolls, books and some coloring action Ireland is now settled on her bed watching Frozen while I sit on the floor leaning against the foot of her bed watching along with her. Well, watching may be an overstatement, I’m looking at the TV while thinking about the vision of Emily in my shirt and those boxers. At some point while we read, one of several Dr. Seuss books, I saw Emily walk past the room and then when she came by again she was in knee-length yoga pants and a Portland Police Department sweatshirt. It must be Mick’s because she is swimming in it and it unfortunately covers her ass.
As I stare at the TV in my own little world I feel something hit me in the face. I look down to my lap to see the offending item is one of my precious Goldfish crackers. I look up to see a smiling Emily in the door way.
“You two want some lunch?” Ireland’s momma asks leaning against the doorway. Shit, Emily is a momma. It’s not what I always fantasized about, but I like this role on her. It fits.
“No, but we can have a carpet picnic and you can eat on the floor here in your room. I’ll be right back. Catch.”
She throws the huge bag of Goldfish at me and leaves the door way but she’s back a minute later with plates balancing in her hands. Does she remember that these little crackers are my favorite or is it just a coincidence?
“Okay, here we go with our five-star lunch. How do we feel about pb&j’s—one crunchy and two creamy—apple slices, cheese, blueberries and of course fishies?”
She remembers I like crunchy peanut butter! First the t-shirt, now the peanut butter and possibly even fishies! This day just keeps getting better!
“Fishies! They’re my favorite snack, Jonafon.”
“No, they’re my favorite snack, Princess.”
“They can be both of your favorites, but Ireland he did love them before you did. Before you were even born in fact,” Emily says as she gives Ireland a little poke to the belly that makes her giggle.
Well, Fuck me! I guess she remembers. Looks like I’m not the only one with a good memory. Thank you baby Jesus!
“So, you two having fun in here?” Emily asks.
“So much mommy!” Ireland answers with a mouthful of PB&J.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby girl.”
Yep, I like this role on her. Emily gives good mom. She’s a natural.
“Yep, we’re having a great time. You getting through your school work?”
“I’m plowing through it. I have hours left though. Please don’t feel like you have to stay. I’ve got tomorrow too.”
“Well, if you don’t mind I’ll stay here and hang with Ireland while you keep working?” I’m not really asking but I can play the part if she needs me to.