Security Breach

by Evan Grace

  I head upstairs and on silent feet I move toward the nursery, which I’m going to have to repaint. The sight in front of me makes me melt; Delilah is sitting in the rocker while the baby is to her breast. My mom’s talking to Del quietly while stroking my daughter’s head. I back away, giving her and my mom some private time, which I have no doubt my girl needs, and head to my bedroom to change out of my jeans and into a pair of basketball shorts.

  When I’m walking back by the nursery, Delilah and my mom come walking out, my mom with Charlotte in her arms. Delilah comes right to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. We head downstairs, and I get her all snuggled up in the corner of the sofa. In minutes Delilah is sound asleep.

  Her dad shows up and we share dinner, letting Delilah sleep while Charlotte is passed around getting love from everyone.

  ***

  “Good morning, Shayla,” I say as I step out of the elevator.

  She gives me a smile. “Good morning, Reece. How are Delilah and Charlotte?”

  My baby girl is two weeks old today. We seem to have a pretty good routine down, but we know that could change at any time. Charlotte nurses for about a half hour, every three hours. Delilah’s been doing well about not overdoing it, and sleeping when the baby does.

  I can tell she’s exhausted, but she doesn’t complain at all. My baby girl is a pig, and she’s twelve pounds. At her two-week checkup the day before, she was at the top of the growth chart. She got a shot, and I swear her little face turned purple before a scream left her little lips. It was traumatic, and I know she’s too little to remember, but I will.

  “They’re great.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and pull up the picture I took of Charlotte in her bouncy seat that Jack brought over last week.

  She takes the phone. “Oh my goodness. She gets prettier and prettier every time I see her.”

  I take my phone back. “Thanks. She’s starting to look like Delilah for sure.”

  “Tell her I’m going to come see her soon.” I nod as I step through the doors to the back. Jack texted me earlier and asked me to come in. I set my bag down and go into the breakroom to grab a cup of coffee, and then head to Jack’s door, knocking twice before opening it. He’s on the phone but he signals for me to come in.

  “Yeah, tell them we’ll get the quote to them as soon as Egan can come out and look around.” He pauses. “Great, thanks.” Jack disconnects his call. “How’d Charlotte do after her shots?”

  “Shit, she only got one, but you’d swear someone was murdering her. By the time we left I was ready to cry.”

  Jack smiles and leans back in his chair. He’s quiet for a minute, and then his brow furrows. He sighs before shaking his head. “Okay, this isn’t easy, but I think something is wrong with Delilah.”

  “What do you mean?” Have I missed something?

  “Do you notice that when Del’s holding the baby that she doesn’t ever really look at her? She doesn’t talk to her, or coo at her, either. If you have the baby, she avoids looking at you. It’s like she’s detached or something.”

  Shit, is she not bonding with our daughter? “I’ll keep an eye on her, and let you know if I notice anything.” Of course I try thinking back to whether I’ve noticed anything out of the ordinary. Granted we’re both so exhausted, so maybe I’ve missed it.

  When I get home later, Jack’s words ring in my head. I come in through the garage and find Delilah curled up on the sofa watching TV, and the baby is in her bouncy seat. I’m not too suspicious of that because we can’t hold her all of the time. “Hey baby.” She gets up and comes toward me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I wrap my arms around her. “How was our girl today?”

  She pulls away from me. “Fine.” I follow her into the kitchen. “I’m making spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner. Is that okay?”

  “That sounds great.” I grab her hand and pull her toward me. “You okay?”

  Delilah smiles up at me. “I’m great.”

  Maybe her dad was just imagining things.

  Later, after Delilah nurses the baby, I give Charlotte a bath, and when I come back down after putting the baby to bed in the bassinet in our room, I find Delilah curled up fast asleep on the sofa. I leave her while I watch the news for a bit, and then lock up before carrying her upstairs. I try lying down, but my mind won’t shut off. Instead of tossing and turning, I get up and go downstairs to watch TV some more.

  The sound of crying pulls me from my sleep. I realize I’m on the sofa. I grab my phone and check the time. It’s one in the morning. I shut the TV and the light off before heading up. When I reach our room, I realize it’s not the baby I heard crying, but looking at our bed, it’s empty. The sound is coming from the closet. I open the door, flip on the light, and find Delilah curled up in the corner.

  “Del baby, what’s wrong?” She doesn’t answer—just continues to cry. “Baby, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you.”

  She looks up, and the look in her eyes scares me. “I have to l-leave. I-I c-can’t be here.”

  “What are you talking about? Why do you have to leave?”

  “I’m no good for you. I’m no good for her.” She keeps repeating it over and over.

  I reach out, brushing her tangled hair out of her face. The tears continue to fall as she looks at me. “No good? What makes you say that?”

  “I can’t be around her. I’m going to hurt her.”

  Grabbing Delilah by her shoulders, I look deep into her eyes. “Why? Why can’t you? You can’t make statements like that and not give me a reason.” Her eyes are wide and panicked.

  Her chin wobbles, and she tries to pull away, but I don’t let her. “Let me go,” she cries, but I don’t. “Don’t m-make me s-s-say it. I can’t.”

  “Don’t you love her?” She whimpers, and my heart breaks. I can see she does so much, but she won’t let herself. “She loves you. I love you.”

  “I don’t want to turn into my mom. She didn’t w-want me, and every day she made sure I knew what I was, and that was a meal ticket after she divorced Dad. Nothing I did made her proud. I was too nerdy for her…she wanted a girlfriend, but I had to be the grown-up because she didn’t want to be. She paraded man after man in front of me, they never did anything, but I didn’t miss the looks, the lingering stares. I was miserable, and I don’t want that for her.”

  “You are not her.”

  “My mom’s mom had her young, and was terrible to her. My mom had me young and was terrible to me. She was supposed to be a boy, so I could break the cycle. I can’t have a girl—I’m going to turn into my mom, and I can’t do that to that beautiful little girl, I can’t.”

  I’m such a fucking idiot. How could I not see that she’s been struggling? “Come here, baby.” She crawls into my lap, and I hug her to my chest—letting her get it all out.

  When she finally stops crying, our little lady decides she’s ready to party. “Let’s get her fed, changed, and settled back into bed. Then I want you to let me hold you. Tomorrow I think we should talk, and maybe talk to your dad too.” She nods her head against my neck.

  I help her stand up, and she goes right to the bassinet, scooping Charlotte and hugging her to her chest. She sits on the bed with her pillow in her lap, and gets the baby latched onto her breast. Delilah strokes her finger down the baby’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

  I maneuver myself behind her and wrap my arms around her. I stroke her hair and kiss the side of her head while watching our daughter eat. She certainly doesn’t mess around when it comes to her food.

  When she finishes eating, I change her diaper and she goes right back to sleep. Then I go about doing what I told Delilah I’d do.

  I hold her all night.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Delilah

  “Have you thought about what I said during our last session?” I stop picking at my thumbnail and look up at Melissa, the therapist I’ve been seeing since shortly after the
night Reece found me in the closet. I’ve been diagnosed with anxiety and mild depression. Most of it was brought on by the ordeal I went through, but also the extremely toxic relationship with my mom.

  I opted not to use medication. Instead, I’ve cut meat out of my diet again, begun doing yoga, meditating, and using essential oils. Occasionally I write in a journal, but that’s only when I have a bad day.

  I hate that I’ve missed so much bonding with Charlie—what I love to call her—the first two weeks of her life. I’ve made it up to her, I hope, in these past few weeks. We have our morning chitchats while I have my one cup of fully loaded coffee. Then I wear her in a little sling while I pick up around the house. We usually take our morning nap together, and I get up before her so I can shower.

  Reece has been coming home for lunch, usually joined by my dad, who is so smitten with his granddaughter, and I love it. I’m sure they come—yes, to see Charlie—but to check on me as well. They both wanted me to go on medication, but I wanted to try a more natural approach first, especially since I plan on nursing her as long as I can.

  After they leave, Charlie eats, and then sits—or I should say, sleeps—in her bouncy seat while I do yoga, and then meditate. After that, we usually run errands if we need to.

  Having a daily routine helps so much, and on the weekends, Reece sticks to it because it keeps me focused and in control. Sometimes I can even get him to do yoga with me, but usually he grabs me and we start making out.

  We have about two more weeks before we can resume sexual activity. The other morning, I gave Reece a blowjob while he used his fingers on me until we both came. It wasn’t the same, but for now it’ll do.

  I felt like after everything that’s happened the last few weeks he deserved it for being so great. Of course his response was he was a guy, and they’d revoke his man card if he turned down a blowjob.

  “Delilah?”

  Melissa pulls me from my thoughts. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’m ready to face her.” My mom’s tried to call me a few times, but I’ve refused to talk to her. “There’s not much that I have to say to that woman.”

  “Your anger is understandable. She was going to take your baby and sell her. You suffered a lot of abuse at the hands of that woman.” Melissa doesn’t sugarcoat things. She says it how it is, and I appreciate that—as painful as it is sometimes to hear. “You’re not her. The fact that you kept yourself from bonding with your daughter to protect her from who you thought you’d become says a lot. The fact that you’re here says how much you love Charlotte.”

  “I just feel like a fool,” I blurt out.

  “What makes you feel like a fool?” She sets her notebook down.

  “For believing that she loved me at all, for believing her when she came to visit, that she wanted to spend time with me, that she was excited about the baby coming…but no, she tried to get my boyfriend into bed, and claimed she was testing him. She was about two hundred feet from me when my daughter was born, and she didn’t even look at me or the baby.”

  “Your mom deserves to know how she made you feel. Even if she ignores you the whole time, at least you’ll have released that pain. Give that pain back to your mom.”

  By the time my appointment is up, I’ve decided that I’m going to go see my mom. She’s at the Cook County women’s correctional facility. I can say what I want to say, and then I never have to see her again.

  I head home and pull into the driveway next to my dad’s truck. Reece is busy working a case, so my dad agreed to babysit. I step inside and smile at the sight in front of me. My dad is lying on his back on the sofa, and Charlie is asleep on her grandpa’s chest. “Hi, baby girl,” he says. “How was your session?”

  I sit down on the floor next to the sofa. “It was good. I’m going to go see Mom. I’m going to tell her how I feel, and then I’m going to walk away.” Dad looks at me, and I know what he’s going to say, but I hold up my hand to stop him. “Don’t say it, Dad. Neither of us is at fault for her behavior and the choices she made. Sure, I wish that my mother loved me, but I’ve got a dad who does. Reece loves me, and this little princess loves me, and that’s all I need.”

  He sighs. “Okay. If you’re sure that’s what you want, then I’ll support you, baby girl.”

  My dad leaves shortly after that. I nurse my girl, then we take a nap.

  ***

  Reece pulls into the parking lot at Cook County Jail. I’m here to visit my mom for the one and only time, and I’m a nervous wreck. In my head I’ve rehearsed what I’m going to say to her, but now that the day is here, I’m clueless.

  My leg bounces up and down, and Reece reaches over and places his hand on my thigh. “We don’t have to go in.” He’d said yes immediately when I asked him to come with me. “I can pull right out of this parking lot.”

  I undo my seatbelt, crawl across the arm rest, and right into his lap. I grab his face with both hands. “I’ll go. Thank you so much for coming. Thank you for being so patient and sweet while I dealt with things. I love you, Reece. I love you so much that the thought of not spending the rest of my life with you makes me sick.” I take a deep breath before kissing his lips hard. “Marry me,” I whisper.

  He doesn’t say anything and I start to get nervous, but then his lips are back on mine. I immediately open to him, his tongue dancing with mine. I whimper as he slows the kiss, and then pulls away. His smile is sweet, and slightly cocky. “Are you going to be my wife?” His eyes drift to my hand, and that’s when I realize he slipped a ring on my finger. It’s a simple platinum band with a princess-cut diamond. “I’ve been carrying that in my pocket, waiting for the right time.”

  “It’s beautiful.” I grab his face and kiss him. “I can’t believe I proposed in the parking lot right before I’m going in to see my hot mess mother in jail.”

  “Delilah, I don’t care where it happens. I love you, I want you to be my wife, and when you walk in there, I want you to feel that ring on your finger, and know that I’ll be right there with you, supporting you, loving you.”

  He hugs me tight, and then I get back in my seat, check my face in the mirror. We climb out, and I wrap my coat tighter around me. Reece wraps his arm around my shoulders, and we head inside. He’s going to wait in the waiting room for me. I give him my coat and purse. I walk through security, sign in, and stick the visitor’s badge on.

  My palms sweat as I make my way to an empty table and wait. The smell of sweat, sadness, and something else fills the air, burning my nose. It takes about five minutes before I hear a clanking noise, and then I see her walking toward me. Of course she looks good—I shouldn’t have expected anything less.

  I don’t bother standing up and keep my face expressionless. I don’t want to let on that I’m nervous. She sits across from me and neither of us speaks. My hands rest on the top of the table, and I know my mom notices the ring, but doesn’t say a word.

  “Why did you want to see me?” I ask. This woman is taking time away from my daughter.

  “I wanted to see how you were doing. How’s the baby?” She stares at the table.

  I’m honestly surprised she’s asking because I know she doesn’t care. “I’m going to be fine, and my daughter is amazing.”

  “You’re going to be? What’s wrong with you?”

  Wow, she’s pulling out her superb acting chops.

  “Thanks to the trauma I endured, and your wonderful parenting, I’m being treated for anxiety and mild depression.” Was that a flinch I saw? It doesn’t matter. “I was so scared when they said the baby was a girl that I was going to become you, and ruin that little girl, that for two weeks I would barely look at her. I’d feed her, change her diaper, but I wouldn’t bond with her at all. I know I’m not you because I actually care about hurting my daughter. You never cared if you were hurting me. You never loved me.” It hurts to even say it.

  “Well for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I wasn’t cut out for parenthood. Your dad talked me out of having an aborti
on, and when he wanted full custody I should’ve given it to him instead of threatening to take you away.” She stands up. “Will you send me pictures of her? I’d just like to see her picture as she gets bigger. I know I don’t have the right to ask, but that’d be awesome.”

  “I’ll think about it.” She nods before turning, walking to the guard, and disappearing through the door. Why was that so underwhelming? I don’t know if I was expecting her to grovel and admit she did love me, but that didn’t happen at all. It takes me a minute before I’m able to stand. When I do, I feel a lightness that I’ve never felt before.

  When I make my way toward the waiting room, I feel myself walking a little taller. I push through the door and find Reece sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. He stands as I walk toward him. I wrap my arms around his waist. My cheek rests against his chest. “How’d it go?” he whispers against my ear.

  “It went as good as can be expected. I said what I had to, and I listened to her. She wants me to send her pictures of Charlie. I told her I’d think about it.” I look up at Reece. “That’s all I can do for now, think about it.”

  Hand in hand I walk out with my fiancé, and we head home to our daughter.

  Epilogue

  Reece

  Two years later

  The sound of laughter fills my ears when I step into the house. “Where are my girls?” I holler. I hear the pitter patter of little feet seconds before my daughter comes running toward me on her chubby little legs. Her light brown locks are in two curly pigtails on her head.

  “Daddeeeee…” She launches at me and I hug her to my chest. I carry her toward the kitchen where I find my beautiful and very pregnant wife at the stove stirring something in the big pot.

  “Hey baby.” She tilts her head up and puckers her lips. I kiss her slowly and thoroughly until Charlie decides she’s done being ignored and leans forward trying to kiss us both. “Oh, I’m sorry, princess.”