A knock came at the door, and I opened it, expecting to see Timothy, the young boy who sometimes helped the girls into the apartment after they got off the school bus. Instead, my mother stood there, one hand on her hip and a cigarette clamped in her red-slicked lips. She wore a pair of jeans newer than anything I’d ever owned, and there was a new Birkin bag at her shoulder. She’d either used her five-finger discount or was deep in the throes of love with a new boyfriend who had money to burn.
The sight of her shocked me so much that I didn’t have words. I’d fully expected never to see her again. Once one month had turned into two, then two into three, and three into four, I’d written her off. As far as I’d been concerned, she was no longer a part of my life—let alone my mother—and I couldn’t care less if I ever saw her again.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “What are you doing here?”
My mom tipped down her sunglasses. God only knew why she was wearing them inside. “I live here.”
She tried to shoulder her way inside, but I wedged my foot in the bottom of the door so it wouldn’t budge. “What are you doing?” she demanded. The scent of stale cigarette smoke wafted from her stick-thin form.
My heart hammered in my chest. Confrontation with her was never my strongest suit, but I had the girls to think of. If they saw her when they got home from school, they’d flip. Guaranteed. She couldn’t keep flitting in and out of their lives like this without facing the consequences. If she wasn’t going to protect them, I was.
With a steadying breath, I said, “I’m trying to figure out what you think you’re doing. You can’t barge your way into our lives whenever it suits you. Do you realize what could have happened to Matilda and Molly when you left them here alone?”
Did she care? Even after more than twenty years of neglect, I still couldn’t figure it. She kept us around, but she also so easily walked away. How could someone who cared about you just walk away?
She started with a placating tone—one I’d heard a thousand times before. “Well, they’re fine, aren’t they? You’re a fancy medic. You can fix them up if something happens.” She rolled her eyes and tried shoving her way in again.
She rolled her eyes.
Something inside me snapped.
“You’re not coming in here,” I said, a steel edge to my voice.
I didn’t know if it was my bald refusal or my tone, but it caused her to take a step back.
She flipped her hair. “What did you say to me?”
My heart was beating so fast it felt as though it weren’t beating at all.
“I said you’re not coming in here. The twins will be home from school soon and seeing you would only upset them again. They only recently got used to you not being around. If you want to see them again, then I’ll talk to them and explain things, and we’ll meet somewhere for you to have lunch or something.”
Over my dead body. But I felt I at least owed it to them to give their mother a chance to be…well, a mother. Besides, when I had googled custody situations like this, the websites had said it was important to offer a chance at visitation. If we could show that my mom had been offered the opportunity to see the kids and had refused, then maybe I’d have a better standing. It was worth a shot. Fuck, I needed to see a lawyer and make this official so she couldn’t try and take the girls ever again.
“You’re going to tell me what to do with my kids?” she demanded, her eyes flashing in a way that reminded me all too much of myself. It made me a little sick to think that we could have something in common. The difference was, I’d never play games with another person simply to feel more in control.
“I’m going to tell you what to do with my sisters. I’m the one who’s always here for them. I pay for the roof over their heads. I have never, and I will never, abandon them. I am nothing like you.” My voice shook, but my hold on the door was resolute. She wasn’t coming in, not ever again, unless she proved that she could be the mother that the girls—that I—deserved.
My mother smirked, but it was shaky around the edges, like she was barely holding it together. “You’re more like me than you think.”
“You should leave,” I said without taking her bait. But God knew I wanted to. “If you want to see them, then we can schedule a time that works best for them. You’re never going to hurt them again, not if I have anything to say about it.”
She shouldered her purse, her knuckles white from how she gripped the straps. “You’ll hear from me real soon,” she said with dark promise.
She was gone by the time I could unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. It was ridiculous that I could deal with life-threatening emergencies on a day-to-day basis at work but confronting either one of my parents scared me to death. They disappointed me on a regular basis, but God forbid I ever disappoint them.
With a deep breath, I glanced at my watch and cursed under my breath. Timothy was late. It must mean the bus was a bit behind. On the way down the elevator, I worked on calming down my breathing. The last thing I wanted was for the twins to know something was wrong.
When I got down to the street-side of the apartment complex, the bus was already waiting at the bus stop, but there was no sign of the twins or Timothy. I waited under the awning until the last child got off.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see my sisters, Molly and Matilda Stevens. Are they still on the bus?” I asked the bus driver.
He was an older man with a silver beard and an old military ball cap. “Their mother picked them up,” he said and snapped his bubblegum.
Instant anger, fiery and destructive, bubbled up in my stomach and threatened to spew from my mouth. With exaggerated calm, I said, “Their mother is not on the list of people allowed to pick them up. In fact, I filled out paperwork with the school to ensure that I was the only one allowed to pick them up.”
The bus driver, clearly in a hurry to move on and not interested in any of my drama, snapped his gum again. “I haven’t heard anything about that. The girls seemed to know her and said she was their mother. Listen, I have a whole other bus of kids to take home.”
“Taking care of children while they’re in your care and ensuring they get home to their proper guardians is your job.” I boarded the bus, and his eyes sparked, but I took out my phone, despite his cursing to do otherwise, and took a photo of his identification, his face, and the contact number listed on the sticker by his seat. “I’ll be in contact with your supervisors.”
“You do that,” he grunted and slammed the doors shut behind me.
I walked blindly around the apartment courtyard after getting off the bus. It was so stupid of me to think that my mom would have gone off quietly into the night after being turned away. Now, she’d taken the twins God-only-knows-where in retaliation. When my senses returned, I called the non-emergency police line and learned that, apparently, a child’s mother could take them wherever the hell they chose. And since I didn’t have an official custody arrangement yet, there wasn’t shit I could do about it. I didn’t know whether to cry or scream. I wanted to do both simultaneously, but it wouldn’t solve anything.
“Thank you for all of your help, you fuck-shit,” I snarled, then threw myself onto a bench and buried my face in my hands. I’d dealt a lot with the police when running calls, but I didn’t see them as the professionals who couldn’t help but do their job. For the moment, they were the people who were supposed to help me but were saying their hands were tied.
Without any other options, I returned to the apartment and began to pace. Finally, I texted my mom at her last known number, praying it was back in service.
ME: Please bring the girls back.
I waited for fifteen tense minutes, checking my phone multiple times for a response. What if she didn’t ever bring them back? What if she disappeared, and I never saw them again? Guilt drove over me in crushing waves. I’d been so negative the past few weeks, so hard on them. I thought back to how harsh I’d been with Molly when she’d walked off in the grocery store
. What if she took them, and I never got to tell them how much I loved them?
MOM: I’ll bring them back if and when I’m good and ready. I’m their mother, not you.
I dissolved into a puddle on the couch, dropping my phone to the floor. I never cried, but it was too much. First Chris, then my parents, Tripp, and raising the twins. Plus school and back-to-back difficult shifts at work. It was too much for one person.
Tripp. I could go to Tripp. He’d be home from practice in a couple of hours. He’d know what to do. If nothing else, he was always the perfect shoulder to lean on. But he had his own problems with practice and games. He already did enough to help me as it was.
And things had gotten so complicated.
No, I’d deal with this on my own for once. I’d have to.
I should have been studying, but I couldn’t concentrate on my notes if I tried. All I could do was picture the girls crying because my mother had abandoned them somewhere. I pictured my buddies at work getting a call and arriving at a scene, with my twins as the victims. Countless scenarios raced through my mind, each worse than the last.
It was midnight before I came to the conclusion that my mother wasn’t bringing the twins back that night. Wherever she was staying, she was keeping the twins to sleep over. Without any other option to turn to, I felt hopeless, listless. There was nothing I could do but wait to hear back from them or my mom. I just hoped it would be soon.
I threw myself into my bed and tried not to think about how theirs were empty down the hall. I almost wished I hadn’t moved them out of my room. Maybe they wouldn’t feel so far away.
My phone chimed with a notification. Hoping it was my mom, I sat bolt upright and turned on my bedside light. My stomach sank when I realized it was only a notification from an app. I almost turned my phone back off until I realized which application it was. It was the app I used to track my cycle. The one that told me when my period was due.
I unlocked my phone to go to the app when I realized what it was saying. I double-checked the dates and then checked them again because it couldn’t be right. There was no way.
But it was there.
I was late.
It had to be stress. Or the IUD I got before Chris and I broke up. According to my doctor, my cycle could be wonky for a few months. That was all. Maybe I’d gotten lucky like a lot of women and wouldn’t have a period at all.
Knowing I wouldn’t get any sleep until I had more information, I went to the bathroom where I kept a lone pregnancy test from a scare when Chris and I had first started having sex and before I got on the IUD. The minutes I waited after taking the test were almost as excruciating as waiting for news from my mom.
The timer I set on my phone dinged, and I picked up the test, my chest full of apprehension.
The digital readout said positive.
My knees simply gave out, and I fell to my butt right there on the bathroom floor. When I could breathe again, I checked the screen once more, and the word positive was still there. It was the same on the two other tests I ran out to get. I had all the time in the world to watch my life go down the drain. If there was an upside, it was that my panic about the girls was obliterated—if only for a moment.
I was in too much shock to feel anything other than stunned disbelief.
No matter how much I didn’t want to believe it, there was no denying the results.
I was pregnant.
Fuck.
Chapter Twenty
Tripp
Ember didn’t answer her phone after I got out of practice, which didn’t concern me at first. We played when I came over by ear, so I didn’t really think anything of it. Much of our relationship—or lack thereof—consisted of ignoring how much of a relationship we actually had. I spent more time at her apartment than mine. We didn’t date or sleep with other people. When she wasn’t working, I was normally in her bed after the twins went to sleep.
Which made my apartment feel as quiet as a tomb in comparison. I knew she thought the girls were too much to handle, and they certainly were a handful, but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy them. They were two of the sweetest kids I’d ever known, and, having been in their lives since they were babies, I felt an incredible kinship toward them. Like a mixture between uncle and older brother. I couldn’t imagine a future without them in it.
These thoughts and more revolved around my thoughts as I heated up a frozen dinner instead of making myself a meal. I didn’t really see the point when there was no one else to enjoy it. My mother had instilled in me a love of cooking, and one of my favorite things was to cook meals for my own personal judgment panel, but it simply wasn’t the same without my girls.
That’s what the three of them were.
My girls.
And I wouldn’t be giving them up without a fight.
I finished my pitiful frozen dinner and daydreamed it was the filet mignon we’d grilled at my parents’ house during spring break. While the rest of my classmates headed down to the beach to exchange saliva and STDs, we’d taken the girls to a water park and ate too much pizza. The weekend before school was back in session, we’d packed up the girls and hauled them to my parents’ house for the weekend. Ember grilled steaks and made baked potatoes and a salad. My mom gave her tomatoes and cucumbers from their backyard garden. They’d talked for hours while the girls, my dad, and I had taken turns jumping through a beach ball with a built-in sprinkler.
My dad surprised us all with baseball gloves for the girls. Call me a fucking chick, but it made my chest hurt to see them throwing a ball around with him. Molly could only make it halfway to him, but she caught like a champ. Tillie, however, might have a little Wilder in her because she could throw the ball with a bit of heat behind it. My dad and I had shared a glance. Maybe I could talk Ember into signing her up for ball next season. The girls could use more extracurriculars, and they’d liked playing catch.
I fell asleep on the couch, daydreaming about teaching them how to play.
I still hadn’t heard from Ember.
It was lunchtime the next day when I finally gave up waiting on her to text me back or answer my calls. It wasn’t like her to ignore a message, which could only mean that something was wrong. I wasn’t the kind of guy who had to be involved in absolutely everything. I didn’t like to be smothered, either, but I also knew Ember, and this wasn’t like her.
I gave her until after I’d cleaned up the kitchen from the night before, eaten breakfast, and taken a shower before I grabbed the spare key she’d given me and used it to let myself into her apartment. It was dark as night, so I flicked on the lamp by the sofa.
“Ember?” I called. It was possible she’d passed out after her shift, but even then, she’d normally text me before bed to come over or to tell me good night.
No one answered.
The apartment was dead silent. The twins must have already gone to school. The kitchen and hall bath were empty. I poked my head in the girls’ room, but they weren’t there. Ember’s was the last on the right, and I pushed the door in to find it as dark as the living room. Using my phone as a guiding light, I picked my way to the bed.
The lump in my chest eased as the halo of light from my phone showed her bundled under the comforter on the bed. Setting the phone on the nightstand on what I considered my side of the bed, I slipped out of my shirt, toed off my shoes, and climbed into bed next to her. From her breathing, I could tell she wasn’t asleep, but I’d already barged into her apartment, so I wasn’t going to demand she tell me what was wrong, too.
Eventually, she relaxed against me. We dozed in and out for a while, with her as my little spoon. At some point, she must have grabbed my hand because I woke up with our fingers locked together. I liked it. More than I should. It didn’t terrify me to be linked to her. In fact, it wouldn’t bother me to be linked with her for the foreseeable future. But this wasn’t the time or place to renegotiate our rules.
“They’re gone.”
I almost couldn’t he
ar her because her voice was so low.
“Who’s gone?”
“The girls.”
I didn’t understand. “Are they at school?” I asked.
“Mom took them.” Her voice was dead. Like there was no emotion or even the energy to infuse it with life.
“The hell do you mean your mom took them?” I urged her to turn to face me, even though I could barely see her through the shadows. “Talk to me, angel. What happened? Where are they?”
She sighed so heavily I could almost feel the weight on her shoulders on my own. “She came over yesterday, expecting me to let her just take the girls on a playdate like nothing had ever happened. Like she didn’t just walk out on them like they didn’t matter. She had on fancy jeans that must have cost a hundred dollars or more and a designer handbag that could have fed the girls for weeks. I mean, I haven’t had new clothes in years. When everyone else was going apeshit over labels and having fun with their friends, I was buying diapers and formula. But do you think she gave a shit?”
Ember was trembling in my arms. Not with anguish, but with fury. I let her keep going because I wanted to keep my head where it was.
“She thought she could waltz back into their lives without repercussions for her actions. I told her there was no way in hell she’d see the girls. Not until she got her act together and started acting like their mother. I thought I’d done the right thing.”
“You don’t have to feel bad for that,” I said.
As though she didn’t hear me, Ember continued, “I went to go get the girls from the bus stop, but the driver said their mom had come and got them, despite the fact that no one but me was supposed to be able to pick them up.”
I tried to keep calm. It wouldn’t help anyone for me to get all worked up, even though I entertained some very vivid fantasies about lighting that woman on fire with her own cigarettes. “Have you heard from her since then?”
Friend Zone Series Box Set Page 49