by Zoey Parker
“Oh! Yeah, um, actually, I left Tucson really soon after Keith…” This time I knew she wasn’t going to go on. And I knew what she was going to say, but wouldn’t. So I finished her sentence for her.
“…after he was killed.” I forced myself to say those words. I never let myself avoid them, or use euphemisms that sugar-coated reality. I saw her flinch, but I didn’t have it in me to coddle her grief. I had too much of my own grief. And anger. I had a lot of anger about it.
“Yeah. After that.”
“How did you know him?—I don’t mean, I mean, obviously—” Fuck. I was babbling. I just wanted the full story.
Lucky for me, Ellie seemed to automatically know what I meant, and she cut me slack. “You know where he lived, that neighborhood? I was bartending at the Red Trick Pony, you know it? He’d come in sometimes, we’d chat. He was cool. We got along. Your brother—he was a really good guy, you know?...He was a really good guy.” Her voice faded off and it was clear she was drifting in a memory.
“Yeah, he was. So, what, you and he were together then? For how long? ‘Cause, I gotta be frank with you, he never mentioned you to me. Sorry if that hurts, but it’s true. So seeing you today, and with the baby, it’s all…it doesn’t make much sense. I need more. I know for a fact my brother was careful.”
“Yeah, well…I’m not surprised he didn’t mention me. Except maybe as a friend? I don’t know. We really were just getting to be friends. You know, we got on well, and just casually, at the bar. But, uh…” She took a deep breath, then looked me right in the eye. “Okay, this is a long and weird story, and I need you to just bear with me through it, okay?”
“Got all night, Ellie.” Why in the hell was she being so hesitant? It was all I could do not to yell out, “Just start talking, woman!” But that seemed like it might be counter-productive. I shifted my jaw around to ease my tension.
“Okay. So, it started in Portland. I don’t want to give you all the nitty-gritty, but I left there about a year ago, the first time. Well, not quite a year. In May, last year. Came here, to Tucson, got a place, got a job, started working, met Keith. That much you know. Thing is, I ended up bringing extra baggage with me, that I did not intend to bring. This guy—Brian—he’d been someone I knew, or had known, back up in Oregon. We had dated briefly, but things got weird, and then bad, and I broke it off really quickly, but he…”
“Let me guess. He didn’t want to let you go. Was he stalking you? He followed you here?”
“Yes, and yes. And one night at the bar, at the Pony, he saw me talking and laughing with Keith—nothing was even going on—but Brian, he got upset about it. And he got in Keith’s face, which was just stupid of him—you know how big your brother is—ugh, sorry! …was…” Her face started to crumble, and she turned away.
“Yeah, Ellie. I know. It’s okay. Go on.”
She took a minute, then picked up again. “Well, Brian was spouting off a bunch of ugly shit about me, just verbal vomit about Keith being my next victim and me being a … you get the idea, right? Just a whole lot of unpleasantness. And Keith, even though he really didn’t know me, he got protective, and he stood up and just loomed over Brian—who’s not that small, he’s way bigger than me, but still, nothing compared to Keith—and Keith just laid into Brian. Didn’t take much, and Brian was on the floor. It’s all kind of jumbled now, in my head. I’m not sure how long Keith was hitting him, but by the end of it, Brian’s face was all messed up, and he was humiliated. I’ll be honest, I was kind of glad to see it, and I was super grateful to Keith. Brian had it coming. He’d had it coming for a long time. I was really, really grateful to Keith. It was the first night in a bunch of months that I felt…safe.”
I got it. So I looked at her. “I read you.” I nodded. “I know my brother. So, following that, Keith woulda made sure you got home and…”
She nodded back and gave me a tiny little smile. “Yeah. And…But we weren’t about that. It was just that one night. He was really good to me, and after following me home and making sure I was okay, I asked him in for a drink, as a thank you. And we did some shots, and then…” She clearly didn’t want to finish that sentence, either.
“Yeah, babe, I got the picture. But it still doesn’t all add up yet. Keith was careful—”
“Condoms break sometimes, Jack. You must know that.”
“Oh, fuck. Yeah…You weren’t on the pill?”
“Hi, personal question. And no, I wasn’t. But I am now. Any other intimacies you need me to share right now?”
“Whoa, don’t get your back up. It’s a fair question. Go easy.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not really used to answering to anybody else. You’re right. You deserve to know what’s what, and why. I want to be honest and open with you about it. I do. You just surprised me. I don’t even know why. Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing, babe. It’s okay.”
We sat there a few minutes, each in our own thoughts. I was the first to break the silence again.
“So, after that night, you and Keith never…”
She shook her head with gusto. “No. Definitely not. No. Just that one night. Not that it was bad—but it wasn’t—no. No.”
She was flustered, and it was damn cute to watch. Her color started rising again, and she was fidgeting with her sleeve again. Damn, this woman had some tells. It was close to hysterical, just to see her squirm.
But I was relieved to hear that she and my little brother had not been in the midst of some crazy big love story, so I let her off the hook easily. I just needed to clarify one more thing before I’d be happy to end this conversation. “What about Keith? Did he want more with you? Or did he feel the same as you felt about the whole thing?”
She chuckled. I looked at her expectantly, my eyebrows raised.
She leaned in close to me, and shared, like it was an insiders’ secret, “His exact words were, ‘Ellie, that was really great. Let’s never do it again.’” And she laughed, right into my eyes.
Chapter 6
Ellie
It felt so good to laugh about Keith with someone who actually knew him—even more than that, someone who had loved him—his own brother. It was a real connection with Peter’s father, despite Keith’s death.
I felt a thousand times lighter, remembering how Keith and I had laughed and hugged after his perfect assessment of our crazy mistake.
It had ended up being a crazy, beautiful, scary mistake—because: Hi, Peter!—but for the very same reason, I would never in my life—ever—want to change the outcome. Despite all the fear and the problems and the worries and everything that had come with Peter’s appearance in my world, he was now the center of my life, and I could not regret the connection with Keith that gave me my son.
Jack didn’t share my laughter, but his eyes smiled back at me. He looked relieved, and he leaned in toward me as well. He got so close, I almost wondered if he was going to kiss me. Of course, Peter chose that moment to announce his awakening, and Jack immediately backed off. I got up to tend to the little bawler.
I’d been in my little room with Petey through half of his nursing session when Jack appeared at the door, one arm raised above his head, leaning against the frame as he silently observed the ritual of breastfeeding. I knew the door was open and I hadn’t taken a blanket to cover myself and Peter’s head as he fed. It wasn’t that I was an exhibitionist, but if I was truly to make myself at home here, this is how I would do it. I didn’t want Peter to feel like his feeding was something to hide—I wasn’t sure if that would affect him subconsciously in later life or not. But also, I maybe wanted Jack to come in, to see us, to see me.
I knew it was probably a bad idea, but I was really turned on by him. I didn’t want to shy away from him or from this connection we seemed to have, even though we’d only known each other for less than a day. It seemed my body was making a choice to leave every door open between us—figurative and literal.
Jack appeared appreciative. After a few mo
ments, he straightened up and entered the room, coming to a stop only when he was right at the side of the bed where he squatted down and reached out a hand to touch Peter’s cheek. I watched the wonder in Jack’s face. He’d probably never been this close to a nursing baby before—hell, he’d probably never been this close to a baby of any kind before.
This whole thing must be rocking his world. I needed to remember that, and to cut him some slack if he ever got really uptight or if the stress of having us around blew up in some way. I’d had months to prepare myself; Jack hadn’t even had twenty-four hours.
Peter petered out on my nipple, and I knew he was done, so I shifted him up to burp and covered myself. Jack backed up but didn’t turn his eyes away from me. He was wearing an appreciative smirk, and I smirked at him right back.
I patted Peter’s little back until he let out the extra air. And some regurge—ah, the joys of infants. Jack was back to watching us from near the door and looked about ready to go back out to the living room when I shocked the hell out of him.
“Hey, come and take Petey so I can get up.”
“Whaa…no! No. I don’t do babies, Ellie.” He looked me straight in the eye and shook his head firmly. Yeah, that was not going to fly.
“Well, maybe you didn’t do babies before, but you do now, buddy. Come on. It’s easy. Just pick him up in your hands so I can get up. Only thing you need to be careful of is his neck and head; he’s not strong enough yet to support it himself, so you gotta make sure you have your fingers behind him, helping him out.”
“Fuckin’ hell.” He seemed suspended by the doorway, unsure whether to come back or run away.
“Come on, Jack. I need your help. It really isn’t hard. He’s not going to bite you, I promise.”
“I’m gonna crush him.”
“You’re not gonna crush him. Just pick him up under his arms, put your fingers behind his neck to support his head. Super easy.”
He did it. The hot huge badass biker came back over to the bedside, leaned down, and gently took Peter face-to-face from my outstretched hands. He held him in a dangle at some distance from his own body, with Peter clasped firmly in his hands just as I had described. He followed my instructions to the letter, which was great since beyond that, he showed absolutely no instinct for childcare.
I forcibly repressed a chuckle, not wanting to undermine his fragile ego. Once I got to my feet, I scuttled around the two of them and moved straight into the living room, not worried about how far behind me Jack would be. I could hear Peter begin to air grievances about the sudden loss of bodily contact, and Jack didn’t wait to air his own, either.
“Take him, already, would you?”
I used my empty water glass as an excuse to lengthen their time together, bringing it back into the kitchen for a refill. “Oh, calm down, Jack. Just sit down with him and let him lay on your chest. He just wants body contact. You’re fine.”
Jack’s face reflected his anxiety, but he reclined on the couch with his head propped up and did as suggested, and we were both rewarded with an almost immediate cessation of baby noise. Peter laid his cheek on Jack’s pec and settled right in. Jack’s face looked funny, as he peered down at the little one with a mix of distrust and bemusement. But when I reentered the room with my water and sat back comfortably on the other half of the couch, Jack pinned me with a piercing look, clearly nonplussed at my lack of maternal possessiveness.
From my vantage point, though, I was totally winning. The image of big tough hot Jack with my baby boy cuddled close on his chest was To Die For. It was so sexy and beautiful, and I just gazed at the two of them in a kind of blissed-out haze for a minute—or two, or three. Really, I have no idea how long it lasted.
Eventually, I felt a nudge on my leg, and I came to with a little jump.
“Wha—?”
“You went to la-la-land,” he said with a smirk. I blushed, knowing he must have been able to track the turn of my thoughts easily. He knew how good he looked. And now, he knew how good he and Peter looked together. We had both just learned that the combination, to me, was kryptonite.
I forced myself to look away, just to get my equilibrium back. Water glass to the rescue.
By the time I returned my attention to Jack, I caught him gazing down at Peter with a kind of wonder in his eyes. I might have even gone so far as to say adoration. Peter really was beautiful, in his way. He was soft and sweet and warm like a little bean, and he inspired love in everyone he’d come across to date.
Jack, it seemed, was just as susceptible as the rest of us. His face had softened, and his body had relaxed under the small weight and warmth on his chest, and his hands had naturally rested lightly atop Peter’s back, securing him in place. As proud mommy to my little warrior, I loved seeing it.
“You look so good together.” Apparently, my mouth was in a sharing mood—the words just popped out, no filter.
“Yeah?” Even Jack’s voice, in its grumble, seemed warmer. Happier.
“Yeah.”
“Tell me about him.”
Wow. Jack had just given me the opening I’d had no idea I needed, but hadn’t known how to find.
“Peter’s…Peter’s a miracle.” Already I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but there was no way I was going to get through this tale without crying some, so I didn’t try to fight them. I grabbed some paper napkins from the pizza delivery on the coffee table, and began to share what Jack should know.
“He was born early—really early, at thirty-two weeks.”
Jack’s face was a blank, and I realized that that number meant nothing to him.
“Okay, so normal pregnancies last for forty weeks. He was eight weeks early. That’s close to a full two months. He was only four pounds, one ounce, and he lost weight after he was born. He was so tiny. But he’s eleven weeks old now, so he’s doing pretty well, considering. But…” The tears started spilling, and I looked away, trying to control my breathing enough to go on. This was always the worst part, and I hadn’t yet learned how to tell it well.
“But…? Ellie, spill. That was one hell of a ‘but’. He looks okay to me, it can’t be that bad.”
“Peter has a congenital heart defect. It was discovered when he was four weeks old—he was still in the hospital. He’d been having some trouble feeding, sweating through his onesies. God, I was so scared. But they did a bunch of tests and figured out what was wrong. There were some issues with the left side of his heart, and they were able to fix the worst part with a surgery, but he’ll have to go back for more operations as he gets older and bigger and stronger. So it’s not over, not really. But he’s a fighter; he’ll make it. He’ll make it.” My tears poured. Peter would make it, but I wasn’t so sure about myself. I was still a wreck, every time I let myself think about it.
Jack looked torn. His hands pressed Peter with even more warmth, more care now. More love. I don’t know how I could see that, but I could. At this point, Jack’s eyes were on me, and he looked pissed off and worried and frustrated, all at the same time. Like he didn’t know how to keep hold of Peter, but he was also obviously unhappy about my crying, and wanted to do something to counter it. I couldn’t tell if it was a general uneasiness with a woman’s tears, or a reaction specific to my sob story and that of my baby.
And damn, but I hated that I was so stereotypical. Sob story. It was my reality, though, and if it made me cry, I’d own it. I had earned these tears, damn it.
“Okay, Ellie. I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe…if this little guy is actually Keith’s—and I want to believe that he is, I’m telling you that right now—if he is, you have to know I’ll do anything I can to help you out. Long haul. I’m all in. Damn, how long is that test going to take? When’s the next surgery? Is he okay? He’s not going to suffocate on me or anything, is he? Should you take him from me now? I don’t want to hurt him.”
“No, no, he’s fine. He’s okay. He’s good right now. Look, he fell asleep on you. He’s good where he
is.”
“I think you should take him back. Like, now.” Jack looked agitated. Actually, that was an understatement. Jack looked about ready to jump out of his own skin.
I got up and gathered my little sleepy bean into my arms and kissed his sweet head. The moment Jack was free, he jumped up and started pacing the room, running his hands through his hair. I watched him for a minute, then moved toward my room to put the baby down.
Jack body-blocked me, gently putting his hands on my shoulders and protectively keeping space for Peter between us. “Where are you going?”
“I’m just gonna lay him down in his basket. It’ll be easier for him to sleep where it’s quieter. He wakes up really easily.” And I disappeared for a minute into my room. Petey was totally out, so I was back in less than a minute.
“You’re sure he’s okay in there? What if something happens and we don’t…we gotta get one of those radio things. Shit. Where do we get one of those radio things for babies?”