Forfeiting Decency

by Rachel Schneider

  He follows me up the stairs and I pretend like I don’t feel his eyes boring a hole into the back of me. I hold the door open as he passes through, locking it behind him. Shrugging out of my jacket, I turn the heater up a few notches.

  “Living room, kitchen, hallway,” I say, motioning to the tiny apartment.

  He stands awkwardly by the door, hands shoved in his pockets. “Can I have something to drink?”

  “Um, sure,” I say, slowly. His request is odd but I suppose he’s thirsty. “Is water okay?”

  He nods and I walk to the kitchen to fix him a glass. I open the fridge to retrieve the pitcher, when I feel his presence behind me. I stand, looking at his close proximity over my shoulder.

  “What are you—”

  He braces a hand on the open door, ducking his head to look at the contents in the fridge. “I thought you said you had food,” he says, accusing.

  Caught off guard, I stumble over my words. “I do. I keep my food in my room so my roommate’s girlfriend doesn’t eat all of my food.”

  “Show me.”

  “What? No. Kip, you’re being ridiculous.”

  He doesn’t respond, just simply walks down the hallway. Pushing the first door in, he correctly guesses my room, looking around the tiny area. He inspects the room, looking at me in question. “I don’t see any food, Kaley.”

  At this point, I’m angry. Stomping to my bed, I pull a box of food out from under my bed. Bread, snacks, chips, peanut butter, and pop tarts are shoved inside. He’s not appeased, so I stand and open my closet door, revealing a mini fridge with drinks, cold cuts, and cheese. “Happy now?” I say, arms folded across my chest.

  He looks a smidge embarrassed. Running a hand across his face, he sits on the edge of the bed. I give him a sympathetic smile, sitting next to him. “You literally can’t help yourself,” I say.

  He shakes his head slightly, a touch of a smile on his lips. “I’m sorry.”

  I shrug. “It’s okay. If I’m honest, it makes me feel good that you care.”

  His eyes implore mine as he digests my words. “I was mad at you,” he says, voice low.

  I nod, meeting his eyes. “I know.”

  “You refused to let me visit you and you never replied to my letter.”

  It’s not necessarily a question, but I can tell he doesn’t want to have to ask me why. I could not reply and he won’t push, but only because I shouldn’t have to be pushed. He deserves answers and he knows it.

  “I was scared to see you,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I knew if I saw you that I’d cave.”

  “Cave to what?” he says, confused.

  “I would have asked you to wait for me.”

  He breathes deep through his nose before looking away, finding the wall across from my bed way more interesting. “I would have,” he says. “After I was done being mad, I would have waited for you.”

  Placing a hand on his shoulder, I use it to brace my chin on. “I know. And I would have been selfish enough to do it.”

  He tenses, knocking me from his shoulder as he stands. “So making me believe you didn’t care for me at all was better? You think it was less painful not knowing where we stood? For days and weeks I waited for you to give in, finally deciding that you must not want to be with me at all.”

  “I had already put you through enough,” I say, surprised by the sudden strength in my voice. “I needed to figure out my shit.”

  “I know what prison is like. If there was ever a time to rely on someone, it was then,” he says.

  “Exactly,” I say, feeling vindicated. “If I could make it through that without using someone else as a lifeline, I could make it through anything.” I take a moment to swallow down my rising voice. “Kip, you deserve someone who is whole; someone who loves you because they want to, not because they need you.”

  It’s like I punched him in the gut, his face morphing into hurt. “Is that all I was to you? A lifeline?”

  “At the time, my feelings for you were so interwoven with feeling like I couldn’t survive without you. Not only for your sake, but for myself, I needed to sort out which was which.”

  He stands with his hands on his hips, anxiety stretched across his features. “And?”

  My heart beats furiously in my chest and I stand, putting distance between us as I walk to the door to the balcony. It’s easier to reveal my feelings if I don’t have to look at him and I can pretend I’m speaking my thoughts out loud to myself.

  “I realized I don’t need you. I can spend the rest of my life without you and I’ll be okay. Life will go on, I’ll get a job, and find my own place. Maybe, somewhere down the road I’ll meet someone and love them the way you deserved from the beginning, because I’m finally secure enough in myself to be able to.” I pause, breathing out a deep breath before continuing. “But I also can’t imagine not having you in my future. I will survive if I have to, but I don’t want to.”

  Finding courage somewhere deep inside me, I turn around to face him. He’s sitting again, back to staring at the wall. I wasn’t sure how our reunion would go, or if it would happen at all, but I feel so much relief at getting everything off my chest. He’s not ready to make a decision about us, and I respect that. I wouldn’t expect any more than he’s already given me.

  “I’m starving,” I say, walking to the fridge and pulling out contents, holding up a bottle of mustard in his direction. “I’m going to make me a sandwich. Want one?”

  He eyes the bottle, a slow, knowing smirk bracing his lips. “Yeah.”

  I HOLD THE PHONE to my ear.

  “Kaley,” Kip says, before I can speak.

  I attempt to clear my eyes of the fog of sleep. “Yeah? Is everything okay?” My brain is awake, but my body is not.

  “Lilly’s having the baby. Her water broke an hour ago.”

  That does the trick. Sitting up, I knock over a bottle of water by my bed and it spills across the floor. I cuss.

  “Are you okay?” he says, concerned.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine. What hospital is she at?”

  “Providence. Don’t rush. You still have plenty of time.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there in a bit. Thank you for calling me.”

  There’s a pause on the other end of the line and he says, “See you soon.”

  I’ve always felt like I get the slowest cab drivers at the most inopportune times and tonight is no exception. It takes over an hour to get to the hospital but all my stress is for nada because Lilly, Justin, and Kip are all playing a game of poker when I arrive. They all look up from their hands when I knock on the door.

  “I told Kip there was no reason in calling you this early,” Lilly says, smiling. “It’s all a waiting game.”

  “I knew she’d want to be here,” he says, a tad defensive.

  “He’s right,” I say folding a leg under me to sit next to her on the bed. “I don’t want to miss a single second.”

  Justin throws a pile of poker chips to the center of the bed. “You might rethink that. The doctor said it could be hours and hours before we make any progress. Sometimes it can be close to twenty-four.”

  “Twenty-four?” I exclaim.

  Lilly laughs. “She’ll probably come sooner, but there’s no telling. My contractions are sporadic.”

  I stare at Lilly and Justin’s smug grins before turning my attention to Kip. “Why did you call me?”

  He shuffles the cards and deals them out, including me in the next game, and Justin drops a handful of poker chips into my hand.

  “What are we playing for?” I say, inspecting my two cards. Two jacks.

  Lilly smiles devilishly, tucking her cards beneath her hands. “I’m still undecided on a middle name,” she says. “I’ll consider the choice of a middle name of whoever wins. I check.”

  Kip checks.

  “A consideration? That’s it?” I say, lighthearted. I tap my cards. “Check.”

  Justin checks, dealing the flop. There’s a collect
ive beat of silence as we assess our hands. Lilly folds, Kip bets a couple chips, I call, and Justin calls.

  “What are the names?”

  Justin flips the next card, revealing the turn. I watch Kip and Justin’s reaction, but their facial expressions don’t change. The cards do nothing for me, but there’s a pair of tens that give me worry.

  “Justin wants Marie, which is his mother’s middle name. She’s never liked me,” she clarifies.

  He looks up at her under his lashes and I catch his hidden smirk. “She likes you,” he says.

  Lilly rolls her eyes and begins to speak, but her breath catches as she leans to her side, face frozen in concentration.

  “Another contraction?“ Justin asks, rubbing a hand over her back.

  She nods and breathes through it, sitting up again. Or as much as she can, considering her belly. “And Kip wants Rosaline, Rosie for short,” she says like nothing’s amiss.

  I toss in a bet. “Why Rosaline?” I ask, watching Kip as he contemplates calling my bluff.

  “Lillian translates to Lily, the flower, and Rosaline to Rose,” Lilly says, disdainful.

  Justin folds and draws the river. It’s a jack, so I bet higher, looking to Kip for his next move. “You have a thing for flowers?”

  He debates, glancing at me before calling. “They’re pretty,” he says, revealing his cards. He has a ten and a three, beating my three of a kind.

  I make a face, showing him my cards. “I almost had you.”

  “But you didn’t,” he says, pulling his stack of chips across the bedding. His words ring a level of truth I’m not sure he realizes.

  Lilly breathes through another contraction, but it doesn’t last as long as the last one, and she deals. “You know how much I hated my nickname growing up,” she says to Kip.

  “I know,” he says, smiling. “But it suits you.”

  We play the next hand and I fold before the river, immediately regretting it when I realize I would have had a flush. Justin wins, a tad too gleeful as he gathers his chips.

  “Can I add my own middle name suggestion?” I say, ready to go all in with my next hand.

  “Absolutely,” Lilly says. “Anything is better than theirs.”

  “Portia.”

  It takes a moment, but everyone’s eyes light up, and Lilly laughs. “I like that.”

  Justin releases his bottom lip from his teeth, eyeing Lilly’s excitement before looking at Kip. “I think all bets are off,” he says.

  Kip’s lips thin as he fights a smile, but he doesn’t comment as he tosses his cards in to fold.

  We continue the game, but end up taking more and more breaks as Lilly’s contractions progress and a nurse comes to check on her. Justin ends up winning, but I think he’s well aware his name is last in the running. I step out to grab refreshments, pausing when I hear footsteps echoing mine out the door.

  “Is it okay if I tag along?” Kip asks, a touch sheepish.

  “Yeah, of course,” I say, letting him catch up to me before resuming.

  “Where do you think the cafeteria is?”

  “I don’t know. I doubt it’s open at this hour though.”

  A smile hints behind his eyes, but he doesn’t let it shine through. “I think I saw vending machines by the elevators,” he says, digging in his pockets for dollar bills.

  The selection is limited, but I make do with a bag of peanut M&M’s and a soda. It’s basically what I’ve lived off of for the past year anyway. I devour the bag by the time we make it back to the reception desk. Instead of heading into Lilly’s room, he takes a seat in the sparse waiting area. There’s an awkward moment where I’m not sure if I should sit or stand. The last time we were in a hospital together, I was breaking both of our hearts. It feels like yesterday and forever ago all at once.

  Kip pats the chair next to him. “You look tired,” he says.

  “You did wake me up in the middle of the night,” I say, gulping down the caffeine in the can.

  His eyes wander around the waiting room, but there’s not much to look at. A couple of oil paintings hang from the opposite wall along with a TV mounted in the corner. Everything is muted, neutral tones, and it reminds me too much of being inside the walls of the prison.

  “I remember how exhausting it was to get through the day after I was released. It felt like everything drained the energy from my body. Going to the bathroom seemed like work.”

  I smile and nod, hating how right he is. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not really out,” I say, focusing on the TV. “It’s hard not to sleep the days away.”

  He nods in understanding, eyes empathetic. “Have you found a job yet?”

  I shake my head and sigh. “No, but I’m sure things will pick up in a month or two when it starts to get warmer.”

  Shifting in his seat, he follows my gaze to the TV. “I could use some help at the shop,” he says.

  I smile openly as he continues to stare at the news report. “You don’t have any help by now?”

  “I do,” he says, tapping his thumb on his thigh. “Andie has been working for intern hours, but she’s going to be leaving soon after she graduates in May.”

  I squelch the roar of my heart, reminding myself I have no reason to be jealous. Whether or not I have a right to be is irrelevant. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’m going to keep looking.”

  He stills his movements and I see the flicker of something flash across his features before it’s gone. “Okay,” he says, resuming tapping his jean clad thigh.

  “It’s not that I’m not grateful,” I say. “I just need to do things on my own. I’m already a step behind. I owe Lance for finding an apartment for me, and then I owe Mondo for letting me delay first month’s rent. The last thing I want is to owe you something too.” Especially when I already owe him so much.

  He looks at me again. “You would be doing me a favor. I don’t have anyone lined up. You don’t have to stay forever, just until I can find someone else.”

  I breathe deeply, not wanting him to feel slighted by turning down his offer twice. “I’ll think about it,” I reason.

  He nods once. “Okay.”

  A young couple walks in the sliding glass doors. The guy has his hands full with a baby bag, duffle bag, folder full of paperwork, and a very pregnant significant other waddling next to him. He’s frazzled, cheeks flush as the girl smiles at him adoringly. “Breathe,” she says, cradling her belly as they make it to the registration desk. He smiles, but it’s only momentarily because the woman behind the counter starts asking questions and he does his best to answer them.

  “I want that,” I say, too afraid to tear my gaze from the couple. But I can feel the way Kip’s eyes roam over my face as he turns his focus to me. My cheeks burn from the blood rushing to my face, but I manage to keep my cool.

  “I thought you wanted a hammock on a beach.”

  “Eventually,” I say, smiling. It’s a mixture between amusement as the couple begins to argue over whether or not the other remembered to pack an extra baby blanket and because my old dreams seem so naïve now. “But prison gave me a lot of time to think. Fairly early on, I knew I wanted more from life than I was living. At the time, I wasn’t sure what it was, but it didn’t take me long to figure it out.”

  I hear him swallow before he speaks. “There’s something about staring at the same walls every day that makes you look at life differently.”

  Licking my lips, I finally meet his eyes. “I’m going to meet Jackson tomorrow.”

  He attempts to not be surprised, but his eyes give him away. “How did this come about?”

  “I wrote to Paula and explained everything to her. My dad, when I found out, the money…everything. It took a little while, but she wrote me back.”

  At first, her letters were formal, clouded in niceties. There was a part of her that was weary, and rightfully so. But overtime, they grew more friendly and she opened up about Jackson’s day-to-day life. He's a bookie, preferring to read unlike h
is brother who loves to play video games. Eventually, she expressed gratitude for the money I sent to them, but also made clear how she wouldn’t have accepted it if she had known how I was getting it. We wrote back and forth for months before she broached the subject about meeting Jackson once I was released.

  “It was actually her idea,” I say, steadying my thoughts.

  Kip places his hands over mine in my lap, and it’s then I realize how bad I’m twisting them. “This is great, Kaley. There’s no need to be nervous.”

  I release my hands. “I just want him to like me.”

  He gives me an encouraging look. “He will.”

  His reply doesn’t necessarily ease my worries, but it’s still nice to hear. I stand, ready to make my way back to Lilly’s room when he says my name.

  He stands, placing a hand on my upper arm as he looks down at me. “I’m really proud of you.”

  “Thank you,” I say, giving him a small smile in return.

  We spend the rest of the night metaphorically dancing around each other. The pull we used to have is back, but somehow it’s stronger yet more welcome this time. Before, I used to force myself to distance myself from the butterflies in my belly, but now they give me hope. And every time his eyes meet mine, they reveal exactly what I’m feeling. Whether it’s playing cards, bantering with Lilly, sitting in the hall with me as she goes into labor, or holding his new baby niece in his hands, his eyes hold hope.

  “Did you decide on a name?” I say, peeking over Kip’s shoulder at the burrito wrapped human.

  “We did,” Justin says, shit eating grin in place. He hasn’t stopped smiling once, even as Kip ribs him for nearly passing out while Lilly was in labor. The nurse had a field day relaying the story to his entire family. His mom and dad laughed, but no one got a better kick out of it than Jacob. Through it all, Justin hasn’t stopped smiling.

  Lilly, looking drastically less amped on endorphins but happy all the same, smiles. “Portia Rosaline Knight, but we’ll call her Rosie.”

  As ecstatic as I am they picked my name, I’m even more happy they picked Kip’s. He cradles the baby to his chest, smiling down at the sleeping baby in his arms. “She does have some rosy cheeks,” he says, stroking his finger gently across her cheek.