by KB Winters
After a few weeks couch surfing and looking for new jobs, I had to leave my dancing position with an amateur indoor football team, the Tigers. I was broke, homeless, and unemployable as my only job experience was dancing. I’d been forced to move across the country, from Miami to Everett, Washington where my parents lived.
“Hey pumpkin,” my dad answered, the smile in his voice audible.
I smiled at his use of my childhood nickname. I was twenty-four, with a daughter of my own, but to him, I was still his little girl. And I knew I always would be. “Hey, Daddy. Lily’s preschool called. She’s got some kind of bug and they need someone to pick her up. Is there any way you could get her?”
“Oh, shoot. I wish I could…” He groaned, and I pictured him pulling up his schedule, trying to find a way to wiggle things around. “I’m slammed all day. Did you try Mom?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. Monday’s were busy for all of us. “It’s all right. I’ll call the temp service.”
“Okay, pumpkin. Call me later and let me know how our little princess is doing, okay?”
“I will.” I hung up the phone and tousled my auburn hair. “Oh man.”
With all my options scratched out, I called the preschool back and let them know I’d be there within the hour. Kevin hated when I had to leave to take care of Lily. He didn’t have children of his own, and apparently didn’t have a bone of compassion in his body. Really, I knew it was a money thing. As the only assistant, if I left for the day, it meant calling in a temp to finish the day. And temp agencies charged nearly triple my salary for a day of work.
Well, he’s just gonna have to deal with it, I decided, dialing the temp service.
When everything was arranged, I shoved out of my desk, and went to interrupt the staff meeting. If I had steel plated armor, I’d have strapped it on as I marched down the hall, preparing to face the fire breathing dragon that I knew I’d find waiting on the other side of the conference room doors.
I pushed the door open and plastered on a serene smile as all eyes rolled towards me.
“Isla?” Kevin said, his tone somewhere between “what the hell are you doing” and “get out.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but my daughter is—”
He held up and hand and flexed his jaw. “Just go.”
I grit my teeth together, baring them in what I hoped came across as a gracious smile—instead of a homicidal one. “Thank you, sir. I’ve already called a temp.”
He gave his signature curt nod and I ducked out of the room. Back at my desk, still fuming, I printed off a fresh list of daily tasks and closing procedures, and set it on the desk. As I waited for the temp, I attempted to burn through as many emails as I could, and tried to stop checking the clock every few minutes. Now that everything was arranged, all I wanted to do was get to my daughter. When I’d called, the preschool teacher let me know she’d refused morning snack and then had thrown up as the other kids were eating. They’d taken her to the office and when I’d called, she was napping, and running a low fever.
“Good morning!”
I jerked up at the cheery voice and found a middle-aged blonde woman striding into the office. I didn’t recognize her as a temp we’d used before, but I also knew she wasn’t a client. “Morning.”
“I’m Barb,” she said, extending her hand to me when she reached my desk. “From Temp Pros.”
“Great.” I shook her hand, a pressure valve loosening in my stomach. I’d be with Lily soon. “I’m Isla. I don’t have a lot of time, my daughter is sick, so I printed out the list of duties and highlighted my number, right here,” I said, showing her the papers. “Um, I’ll have my phone on me all day, so don’t hesitate.” I flicked a gaze down the hall. “Kevin, my boss, can be…particular.”
Barb nodded. She was still smiling, but I thought I could see a hint of alarm in her eyes. “This looks great. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“It’s all pretty basic, but Monday’s are busy days and there’s always lots to do.”
“Of course.”
I sucked in a breath as I looked over my desk. Everything was neat and orderly. “Okay. Any questions before I go?”
Barb shook her head. “Not that I can think of. Go be with your daughter. I’ll call if I get stuck.”
“Okay.” I smiled and reached over to squeeze her arm. “Thank you!”
I grabbed my coat, purse, and scarf, before bolting from the office. I made it all the way to the door, before remembering I’d left my cell phone on the keyboard tray hidden under the desk. With a sigh at my own airheaded mistake, I jogged back, rounded the desk, and snatched the phone before Barb could even sit down in my chair. “That would have been bad,” I said, smiling nervously.
She smiled back and I saw the alarm creeping back in…
“Okay, bye!” I raced out before I could worry about her anymore. She’d be fine. As far as I knew, Kevin was nice to temps. Even the awful ones. Not that Barb would be awful…
Isla! I snapped at myself, forcing my focus back to getting out of the office and down the road to Lily’s preschool.
As I drove, I wondered why I even cared. Kevin had lied to me when I’d taken the job. I was no closer to getting a promotion to bookkeeper than I had been on my first day, and I was so underpaid that just to make ends meet, without having to take money from my parents, I waitressed on Saturday nights at a local sports bar. The tip money was the only thing that kept gas in my car and made it possible for me to pay back the student loans I’d taken out when I’d enrolled in college after finding out I was pregnant.
All my worries and stress shifted from work to Lily as soon as I got into the preschool office and found her lying down on a small cot in the corner behind the receptionist desk. She was still sleeping. I squatted down beside her and ran my hand over her forehead. I wanted to cry when I felt how warm she was.
“Poor, sweet baby,” I whispered. When I stood, I turned to face Laurel, the woman who ran the front desk at the school. “What was her last temp?”
“One hundred one point two. That was about twenty minutes ago. She woke up long enough to ask for some water.”
I nodded. “Okay. I’m glad she had a drink. That’s a good sign.”
Laurel smiled. “Do you want to wait for her to wake up?”
“No. I’ll carry her out. Listen, I know I need to pay for this month…Can I do that next week?” I cringed inwardly. I hated that I worked so hard and had to stretch each dollar.
“No need,” Laurel answered. “Your father sent in a check.”
I sighed and squeezed my eyes closed. “All right.”
“It’s okay, Isla. You’re doing good.”
I forced a smile before I turned to gather Lily from her cot on the floor. If I’m doing so well, then why do I feel like such a failure all the time?
I got Lily into my arms, and when she started to stir, I shushed her and stroked her hair until her head lolled back to my shoulder. Laurel held the door open and I carried her outside, pulling the blanket over her as best as I could to protect her from the crisp fall air.
Back at my parents’ house, I managed to get Lily downstairs and tucked into her bed without her fully waking up. I’d worry about getting some more water into her system when she woke up. I crept down the hall to our shared bathroom and put cool water on a pink washcloth and took it back to apply it to her forehead as she slept before leaving her room. I paused in the doorway, watching the “fairies” dance on the ceiling. When her bedside lamp was turned off, it projected pink and purple lights on the ceiling to serve as a gentle night light. Lily had decided long ago, that the lights were actually fairies that visited her while she slept.
I sighed and wrapped my arms around myself as I watched her sleep. She was such a beautiful little girl. She had my dark, auburn hair, and brown eyes, but her smile was from her father—a father she’d never even met, and likely never would.
I shut her door and went out to the living room area. When I had moved back with
my parents, they’d completely remodeled the downstairs basement to serve as my own miniature apartment before I even gave birth to Lily. We had a living room, two bedrooms, a large bathroom, and a kitchenette that had a mini fridge, microwave, and a small dishwasher. It was made clear, since the beginning, that I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted and they refused to even let me pay rent. Which was good, since most months I was stretched thin between bills, credit card debt that I’d racked up living in Miami, and my student loans.
Out in the living room, I grabbed my laptop and sunk down onto the couch. I kept my phone close, but so far, the temp hadn’t sent out a distress signal. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. While the computer booted up, I lay my head back and closed my eyes, trying to will away the stress that had built in my chest since the moment I’d dropped Lily off at preschool that morning. I dreaded Monday’s, like most people tend to do. It meant the beginning of a long week away from my daughter, long hours at a thankless job, which, most of the time, ran into the evening, so that by the time I got home from work, my parents had already fed Lily dinner and had her halfway asleep.
It was all like one big, never ending maze.
The computer chimed a little tune to let me know it was warmed up, and I turned my attention to the screen. With a few clicks, I was inside the one place that helped me gather my sanity: a single parent’s forum online. I’d found it during a late night feeding session, and had related so well with all the other single parents—mostly mothers—who were going through all of the same things as me. I’d posted, nearly daily, since then, and had made some great contacts, who, although I’d never met in person, felt like true friends.
My fingers flew over the keyboard as I tapped out my latest post:
Aren’t Roller Coasters Supposed to be Fun?
Does anyone else feel like getting fired from their job might be a good thing? Well, at least until the debt collectors show up…
I had to leave work early today because L is sick with some stomach bug and my boss gave me attitude in front of the entire staff. I’m angry over his attitude, embarrassed at being treated that way in front of my colleagues, stressed because it means less hours on my paycheck, and worried because my little girl has a fever and threw up at preschool.
And it’s not even ten o’clock in the morning.
I hit the publish button and set the computer aside to go make a cup of tea. In the wake of my breakup from my fiancé, Lily’s dad, I’d gone to therapy for a few months. It helped to be able to spill my guts to someone who wasn’t invested in the outcome. The unbiased opinion of a therapist had helped me work through things on my own. These days, the single parent’s forum was that same kind of release. I could throw my problems out there, in all their ugliness, to cyber space, and once it was out of my head, from the keyboard to the screen, it was like I could let it go. At least, a little.
Some days, it felt like the only thing keeping me sane.
Chapter Four
Lucas
Five months into my new life as a single parent, as the sole guardian of my family, things weren’t getting any easier. Every day brought a new—and most of the time, completely unexpected—curve ball that I was forced to deal with, on the spot, without any backup. In the midst of all the changes for the kids; Ben starting college courses at the community college, Spencer, Emmie, and Lottie starting school again, and all of them still trying to come to grips with the loss of our mom, and the deteriorating health of their father, I had my own set of challenges. I’d been granted leave from my station at Fort Benning, in order to move across the country, and had transitioned from being a Ranger, working on top secret missions and running ops overseas, to being a recruiter, at a local office in Bellingham, Washington.
All the tradeoffs and changes I’d made had been necessary, but that didn’t make them any easier to cope with. I missed my friends, Hawk and Miles, I missed my home in Georgia, and the excitement of my old life that was impossible to match sitting behind a desk for eight hours a day.
As summer faded into fall, the weather got colder, the days got darker, and my spirits were at an all-time low. I was walking out to my car after leaving the recruiting office, when my phone buzzed from inside my pocket. I pulled it out and my heart instantly jumped at Carrie’s name across the screen. She had been helping out as much as she could with the kids and was supposed to be picking up the three youngest from the house, where Spencer was in charge, to get them all to meet Ben and me for our weekly night out as a family. It was a tradition I’d instituted back in the beginning of my guardianship as a way for us to relax a little from the never ending changes and it gave the kids something to look forward to each week. As a side effect, I’d also found that it cut down on the bickering between the siblings.
“Carebear? What’s up?” I pulled the door of my truck open and hopped into the cab, sealing out the bitter chill in the November air.
“Lucas—” Her voice sounded faraway, like she was underwater, and then I heard a sniffle.
“Carebear? What’s wrong?”
Carrie had taken our mothers death harder than even the younger kids in some regards. The two of them had been incredibly close, and Carrie had relied on her heavily for emotional—and I suspected financial—support.
“Lucas, something terrible happened.”
The hairs on the back of my neck raised up, wondering if the conversation was truly headed in the direction I suspected. Things between Carrie and me had been going much better than I’d expected. We communicated at least once a day and so far, she’d kept her promise that she’d made to me back when I was still overseas, about being more responsible, working more hours, and taking care of her own finances.
Something in the tone of her voice made me think that was all about to change.
“Someone hit my car!”
My heart jolted to a new height of panic. “What? Are you okay? Were the kids with you?”
“No—no. They’re home. I was at a stop sign and…well…the person ahead of me started to go, so I did too, and then they just stopped!”
I cringed at the visual she was paining. “How did they hit you, if you were behind them?” I asked, fearing the answer.
“Well, I guess, technically—”
I clenched my fist around the steering wheel. “Carrie…”
“Lucas, it wasn’t my fault! I swear! They started to go!”
I set the phone in my lap for a moment, needing a minute to slow my heart rate before I started verbally whaling on her. After a few deep breathes, I brought it back to my ear. “Carrie, you’re an adult. You got in a car accident. As long as you’re okay, and don’t need medical attention, then this is your problem and you need to figure it out on your own.”
“But—but Lucas, I can’t!”
“Yes.” I flexed my jaw. “Yes, you can.”
She continued to sputter excuses, asking if she needed to tow the car, where to take it, what information she needed to get. I answered some of her questions, but left the conversation by repeating my sentiment that she needed to figure it out for herself. I was beyond tired of bailing her out. In the past, it would have annoyed me, but I would have driven over to help her get things sorted. But, now, I had three other kids—actual kids—to take care of. I couldn’t worry about Carrie when I had all of that other pressure on my shoulders.
She was still crying when I ended the call, and although her panicked sobs cut into me, I knew it was the right decision.
Like a baby bird, her ass just got booted from the nest.
Before leaving the lot, I called Ben to let him know we’d be a little late, and then called Spencer to let him know I was on the way home.
Sometimes, the whole parenting thing felt more complicated and tangled than a tactical mission in the field.
With “my troops” all organized, I pulled out of the lot and headed across town from the recruiting office to my mother’s house, my house now, where I gathered all the kiddos
and took them out to dinner and a movie, just as planned. Worrying about Carrie, and whether or not I’d been too hard on her, wore on me the entire night, and when we all got home later that night, she was waiting outside on the front porch, shivering cold.
“Carrie? What the fu—heck are you doing out here,” I asked, rushing across the yard as the kids piled out of my truck and Ben’s car—my mother’s Prius.
“Where else was I su-su-supposed to go?” She asked. She was still crying, and her voice shook, although I couldn’t tell if that was due to the cold or her sobs.
“Home? Or, at least inside. Why are you out here freezing your butt off on the porch?”
“I dropped my keys in the mechanic’s lock box and forgot to take off my house keys or my keys for here…”
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. My suspicion that I was the worst brother in history was confirmed with an unpleasant twisting of my guts. I reached out for her hands and helped her up. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
“Does this mean we can have cocoa?” Lottie asked, racing behind us as we all piled in the entryway to strip off our thick coats, wet boots, and gloves. She darted into the kitchen, not waiting for an answer, and started singing some kind of made-up “Hot Cocoa Queen” song for her own entertainment.
“Spence, Emmie, can you go help her?” I asked.
With a grunt, they both trudged to the kitchen to help their sister, though neither of them joined in her lighthearted song.
Ben took off up the stairs for his room. He had been a little distant all night, and I wanted to talk to him about it, but dealing with Carrie’s mess was more pressing.
“Carrie, listen, I’m sorry about how I spoke with you on the phone.”
She shook her head. “I get it, Lucas. You’re under a lot of stress.”
I tensed at her brush off. “Well, that’s not exactly why I said what I said. I’m sorry that I was curt with you, but I stand by the fact that you need to learn to do things on your own.”