by Tasha Fawkes
Devastated by the loss of both my parents in such a short time frame, pregnant, and in despair, I had done what I could. It didn't take long for me to realize that in my condition, with a baby on the way, I would never be able to keep up the rent on the apartment, even though it was one of the more affordable complexes in Alhambra.
My landlord had tried to be compassionate, but with four months’ back rent owed and by then a one-month-old baby on my hands with no immediate prospects for employment, I was evicted.
I had no good friends to speak of anymore because of the way my mom’s sickness, then both their deaths, consumed me.
So I packed only the things dearest to me and moved into a homeless shelter, eventually ending up in the south end of the Los Feliz neighborhood, close to Griffith Park. I liked to walk there, pushing Ethan in a borrowed stroller.
I picked up a few odd jobs, part time and temporary, some only lasting a week or two. Part of my paycheck went to pay a fee for the attached daycare center. While it was certainly more reasonable than a regular day care center would've charged, I couldn't, and didn't want to accept more handouts than absolutely necessary. I had to do my part to get back on my feet.
Which was why, when Kelli Spencer appeared that day, I even considered the proposition.
"It's a job," I said softly under my breath as my heart thundered in my chest. "It's just a job. It's a job."
Desperate people did desperate things. And I was desperate.
I wasn't sure if I'd lost my mind or if I could truly consider this one of the best opportunities I would ever have to make some good money. To finally provide a roof over my head, over my son's head, without having to worry about being tossed out when the next month's rent payment was due.
I’d needed to provide for my son. Living in a homeless shelter, looking for work, and finding that nearly impossible with a small baby to take care of had only emphasized my sense of hopelessness. Of helplessness.
That first day, I noticed two women dropping off a pile of clothes. Ethan had been wailing and had drawn their attention, and one had begun cooing over him. Every once in a while, people came to volunteer at the shelter, delivering home-cooked meals, donating clothes, some offering temporary employment. While I certainly appreciated such gestures from the community, it was hard not to ignore the looks of pity or judgment that often came from such volunteers.
Right away, I could tell that Kelli had not come of her own free will, that she didn't want to be there. Arms crossed, chin lifted, she gazed silently at the well-worn furniture that furnished the main room downstairs in the old Victorian that had been converted into a homeless shelter for women with children under the age of fifteen.
I thought I recognized her, but it wasn't until she introduced herself that I realized who she was. Kelli Spencer was a supermodel, one whose face graced billboards, whose image I had seen on the covers of magazines advertising everything from lingerie to expensive perfume.
I wondered what she was doing there—probably a photo op, some type of promotional gimmick dreamed up by her agent. My curiosity grew as I noticed her staring at me throughout the afternoon, and even more so when Ethan stopped his screaming and worked his charm on every person who passed through the room.
Blinking, I focused on Kelli’s door in front of me, forced my hand to knock, my mouth dry, head spinning. You're crazy, you're crazy, you're crazy, was the mantra that had repeated in my head since I’d left Ethan at the shelter’s daycare.
The door opened and there stood the beautiful model, offering me one of the smiles that didn't quite reach her eyes. A polite smile, one that would be offered to someone who worked for you, not a friend, or confident, or associate.
"I wasn't quite sure you would make it," she said. "Please, come in."
“Thanks.” I stepped into her apartment, taking in the high-end furniture, highly polished wood floors and expensive-looking fabric of the set of couches.
Shutting the door and locking it, Kelli frowned around at the living room. “Sorry about the place. I’ve had to sell several key pieces.” Kelli had told me that her breakup with Joel Farrell caused her some financial distress, but her apartment certainly didn't show it. I wondered why any relationship would affect her financially. She was a well-paid, popular model. Then again, I wondered if she was living beyond her means. Maybe she just had good credit.
"You have a nice apartment," I said, still standing awkwardly near the door.
"Have a seat anywhere you'd like." She gestured toward the living space.
I sat gingerly, trying not to finger the silky-smooth material as Kelli launched into her spiel. I still didn't understand what kind of job Kelli wanted to hire me for, but she’d asked me to meet her here to finalize the plans, and so here I was. I was so tense, the muscles in my legs and back were so stiff I knew I’d be sore later. I didn't want to leave Ethan too long. I'd stay long enough to find out exactly what I was supposed to do. I needed the money. God help me, I needed the money, so at this point, I was willing to do just about anything.
“What was it you wanted to discuss? I’m afraid I wasn’t clear about the employment you offered yesterday.”
Kelli smiled a cold, satisfied smile, her sapphire-blue eyes sparkling, and took a deep breath. “You won’t be doing anything wrong, I just want you to pretend that Ethan is my former boyfriend, Joel's, baby so that I can get back together with him. That's all.”
She nodded as the room swayed and dipped in front of me. Oh my god. I recoiled, disgust turning the nausea into acid in my stomach at the thought of using my innocent baby in such a scheme. I shot up off the couch. “What?”
Kelli held out a hand, a glint of desperation in her eyes. “I have a plan that will allow you to still be near Ethan and that will benefit you financially. If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll be quite happy. I love Joel Farrell with everything I am and desperately want to reconcile with him and marry him. I need a way to convince him that he was wrong about me.”
I wavered there on my feet, and finally sat again, but mostly because my pulse was pounding so hard I was afraid I was going to pass out and plummet straight through her glass coffee table. How would lying about Ethan convince Joel he was wrong about Kelli?
Kelli told me a little bit about their history, about how she had met Joel at a fashion show. I'd never really known guys to be interested in fashion shows, but didn’t have a chance to bring it up. “At any rate, we clicked, began to date and went out quite a bit, and before I knew it, we were an item in the local gossip rags.”
I nodded politely, counting the minutes until I could escape out the door, trying to push back the disappointment of another job lead destroyed.
Kelli’s gaze took on a faraway look. “Joel cheated on me with another woman, and when I caught him, he threw me out of his mansion. It’s been a year and I haven’t been able to move on. I want back in his life. With your three-month-old son, it would give me the open door I need.”
I frowned, trying to make sense of what she was saying. She wanted… then it penetrated fully. “You want to tell Joel that Ethan’s his? But that’s crazy!" Crazy aside, I couldn't figure out why a woman like her would want to get back with a guy who had cheated on her and then kicked her out. What a jerk!
Then again, some guys were like that. I’d had my own experience to vouch for that. A drunken evening, a quick romp in bed, and being told to literally "get out" at three o’clock in the morning. Resentment turned into a sour taste in my mouth. Were all guys such bastards? What gave them the right to treat women like that? Then again, I could've said no. And I had no idea what Kelli and Joel's relationship had been like, or the circumstances of their breakup. Frankly, it was none of my business, and I certainly wasn't in any position to judge.
Kelli leaned closer, talking animatedly. “I’ll arrange for you to be Ethan's nanny. Joel’s a billionaire, he can afford it. He’s a computer genius, owns his own company, and has a massive mansion in the city. You’ll, o
f course, get to live there for the duration. I’ll pay you twenty thousand dollars to complete the job.”
I had my doubts. It sounded like a crazy idea, but how many options did I have?
Twenty thousand dollars.
Enough money to set my son and I up for years if I was frugal. I could take him to a true daycare, go back to school, get a degree… I wanted to go to nursing school. After seeing the way the nurses and doctors cared for my mom during her illness, I found the idea intriguing. An honorable profession.
It was wrong, but I knew. I was going to do this.
Kelli wanted her old life back with Joel, and I needed to make sure that Ethan's future was secured. That's all that mattered. If this plan worked, we both got what we wanted. I wasn't materialistic. I just wanted enough money to know that Ethan and I could take care of ourselves. It looked like Kelli had a certain lifestyle that she aspired to and was willing to do just about anything to maintain. It wasn't really my concern why she wanted to go back to a guy who had treated her so badly. I pitied her, but I kept my feelings and opinions to myself.
"So we have a deal?" Kelli asked, extending her hand.
I hesitated only a second before extending my hand as well. "Deal."
We shook on it and then she reached for a checkbook laying on the glass and chrome coffee table. She wrote me out a check, “A down payment,” she said. She’d make regular payments throughout the culmination of "the plan."
"I've opened an account in your name at a bank not far from Joel's house. It'll be convenient for you. You can deposit the check today if you'd like."
I jerked, put back by her apparent surety that I would go along with her plan before we’d even discussed it. The I glanced at the check and barely restrained my gasp. Any sense of guilt disappeared, replaced by a relief that was nearly overwhelming. I quickly glanced away, blinking back tears.
I held a check for ten grand in my hand. This was real.
From that moment, I decided that I would give this plan of Kelli's everything I had. I felt upbeat for the first time in a long, long time. For the first time in more months than I could count, a surge of hope welled that couldn’t be crushed by the next hard blow. That surge of hope was enough to rationalize away any moral objections.
Two
Joel
I was at the back of the house, sitting under the covered lanai overlooking the pool, sipping a scotch when my cell phone dinged, alerting me that I had received a text message.
I glanced at it on the table next to my comfortable lounge chair. The caller ID stated "Unknown." I received many spam calls and messages from people I didn't know. My phone number was supposed to be unlisted, but in today's digital age, nothing remained private for long.
I clicked on the envelope icon and frowned at the message. Check the front door.
What the hell?
Ignoring it, I reclined again, but curiosity got the better of me. From the lanai, you could see straight through the living room to the foyer and to my front door. It wouldn’t hurt to look. Standing, I stretched, then checked that the casual pair of slacks, loose t-shirt, and pair of leather, moccasin-type slippers I wore were presentable. In no hurry, I pocketed my phone and walked into the house, across the octagonal living room with its coffered ceiling.
I’d done the bare minimum of work today in my home office located to the left of the foyer, but it was such a nice day outside, as it usually was in Los Angeles, that I’d decided a brief break from my computer was not out of the question.
I reached the front door, opened it, and looked out. To nothing.
Until I glanced down.
My heart skipped a beat when I discovered a large wicker basket on the flagstones. Inside that basket, cushioned by a small, light blue fuzzy blanket, was a baby.
"What the fuck is this?”
I mentally apologized to the infant for using such language. Shit. Was this some kind of joke? I looked around, but no one else lingered.
The baby was sleeping, thank god. Tucked between the blanket and a side of the basket, was a folded piece of paper.
At first, I wasn't sure what to do. Call the police? Should I touch the basket, the envelope, or just wait for the cops to get here?
Curiosity overrode my caution. I crouched down, plucked the paper from the basket and unfolded it.
This is your son, Ethan. I'll call you later. Kelli.
This time I couldn't help it. A string of oaths, spoken softly so I didn't wake the infant, erupted from my mouth as I stood there, dumbfounded, my heart pounding, shaking my head.
What the hell?
I stared down at the basket. The baby. The note in my hand. Then back at the basket holding the baby.
A baby!
A cold chill skidded down my spine, followed by a myriad of emotions, anger being among the first. What the hell kind of person dropped a baby off on someone's doorstep? That only happened in fairytales. Not only that, it was dangerous. What the fuck was Kelli up to?
I weighed my options. I should've called the cops right that second, but instead, I stared at the angelic look on the sleeping infant's face and wondered what Kelli was thinking; my instinct was to pick up that baby, to protect it. I couldn't just leave it on the doorstep, and I certainly wasn't going to stand here waiting for the cops to come and ask me a bunch of questions for which I had no answers. If the cops came, Kelli could very well be charged with child abuse, endangering an infant and a myriad of other issues.
I glanced down the curved driveway. The three-car garage blocked my view to the west, but on the southside of the street and down the hill toward the corner on the eastside, I didn't see any sign of Kelli. There were a few cars parked along the street in the distance, but I couldn't tell if anybody was sitting in one. I didn't recognize the car that Kelli used to drive, but that didn't mean she wasn't out there somewhere, watching to see what I would do.
I heaved an impatient sigh and once again glanced down at the baby. I didn't know anything about taking care of babies. Maybe I could bring it inside, where at least it would be out of the heat, and then just hope and pray that the kid didn't wake up.
"Damn you, Kelli," I swore under my breath as I finally picked up the basket and brought it inside. A large walnut octagonal table stood at the end of the foyer, just before it opened into the living room, and I placed the basket there. The baby didn't wake.
Nearly breathless with relief, I stepped back outside the entryway and grabbed the baby bag that had been left with the basket. Inside I found empty milk bottles, plastic bottle nipples, a couple of pacifiers, milk formula, and a ton of diapers. Incredibly small diapers. I could barely generate enough spit to swallow.
Moving quietly, thankful that my house staff was off for the day, the noise of a lawn mower starting up entered from the backyard where I'd left the sliding glass door open. I cringed as I stared down at the tiny sleeping face, my only movement a continual slow shake of my head.
This is your son. Ethan.
I frowned. Did the baby look like me? It was hard to tell. How old was the kid? A boy, based on the color of the blanket. It wasn't exactly a newborn, but he still had a big head, nearly hairless, but what hair there was looked brown like mine. Could he have my nose? Who the hell could tell at this point? It was a cute little button nose, but that's about all one could really say. He had a little Cupid's mouth, and as he seemed to settle deeper into sleep, dimples appeared in his cheeks. There could have been some similarity in the chin or jaw.
He was a cutie, no doubt about it. I glanced at the note one more time. I'll call you later.
"To hell with that," I mumbled. I stepped away from the table and strode into my study, barely seeing the walls lined with bookshelves, my desk cluttered with numerous projects, and paperwork associated with those projects. Leaning my hip against the desk so that I was out of earshot of the child, but it was still in my line of sight, I pulled my phone from my pocket.
I found Kelli’s phone number buried i
n the endless list of contacts and hit voice call. When there was no answer, I texted, Stop playing games. Answer your phone. Again, I called her number, but it went to voicemail.
I wasn't sure what to do. If I called the cops, I knew that social services would get involved. What the hell was she thinking? What did she mean by simply dropping a baby off at my house? Was it really mine? The resemblance in regard to hair and the shape of the kid's jaw was similar to mine, but how could I know? Did he have deep blue eyes like me? I wasn't about to wake him up to find out.
On the heels of that thought came another question. Could I really be that baby's father? Was I a dad? I felt like someone punched me in the stomach. If I was the father, why wouldn't Kelli have said something when she first realized she was pregnant? Dammit, she’d told me she was on the pill! Was this some kind of prank, some sick revenge? I’d kicked her out, yes, but because I caught her screwing around with a former friend of mine. So how could I know the baby was mine and not that guy’s?
My heart pounded, and placing the phone on the desk, I realized my hand was trembling. I quickly made a fist and took a deep breath, focusing on calming my nerves.
Slowly, I walked back toward the table where the baby still lay quietly nestled in the basket, and looked at him more closely. Maybe I did see a resemblance, but that could be all in my head.
I lifted the baby bag and pulled out the incredibly large number of disposable diapers, placing them on the table beside the basket. There must've been at least two dozen. I'd never even held a baby before, let alone changed a diaper. How hard could it be? I glanced at the white, puffy contraptions and decided that if I could design killer software and video games, I could certainly figure out how to put a diaper on a baby.
The milk… now that was something different. I pulled the can of formula out of the baby bag and began to carefully read the instructions. Babies got hungry after a nap, didn't they? I needed to be prepared.