by Jay McLean
“Wait,” I said again, picking up the items off the ground. “W-what’s your name?”
“Chazarae.”
I followed her around the store while she did her grocery shopping. She kept her hold on Tommy and asked me to collect things for her cart. She said, “I have my niece staying with me next week. She has a newborn, like Tommy. So get what you think I’ll need for the baby.”
I grabbed a box of diapers and wipes. She said to get a tin of formula just in case. The entire time I was in a trance, still worried about where the hell I’d be sleeping that night. She paid for the groceries and we headed back out to Hunter’s car.
He called the second we were all settled. “I was wondering if I could borrow the car tomorrow. Dad’s set up a meeting with a recruiter.”
I laughed once. “It’s your car man, I’ll uh…” I glanced over at Chazarae sitting next to me. “I’ll call you later. We can work it out.”
I didn’t want Chazarae hearing that I’d planned on sleeping in it that night. I had enough shame to deal with.
She directed me to her house about ten minutes away. “Just up there,” she said, pointing to a garage apartment. The main house was to the right of the driveway. It was two-story—nice enough—with a perfectly kept garden. She took Tommy, still in the car seat, up the stairs to her apartment while I carried her groceries. I left the first batch of bags at the front door and went back twice more before lugging them all inside. She set Tommy on the counter of the tiny kitchen and started to turn on some lights in the small space. I helped her unload, noticing when she powered up the fridge from the outlet behind it. Weird.
Once the groceries were put away, she turned to me. “How about a ride back to my car now?”
My eyes widened. “But you said—”
She stepped forward, cutting me off, and held my hands in hers. “Joshua. I saw you at the grocery store. I saw your heart shatter when you could not care for your son the way you wanted. I saw that same heart disintegrate when you let go of something you cared about in that skateboard shop.”
“There is no niece, is there?” I choked out.
She ignored me and looked around. “I know it’s not much of a house, but you and Tommy—you can make it your home.”
★★★
I get asked a lot how I do it: raise a kid on my own and not be bitter about the life that’d been handed to me. Here’s the answer: I wake up every morning.
That’s it.
There are no hidden secrets, no words of wisdom or encouragement.
I wake up.
Breathe new air.
And fall even deeper in love with a kid I created.
Tommy squatted in front of the cereal aisle, his face contorting with that look I’d come to recognize over the past year of his existence. Then he started to grunt.
I grimaced. “I bet it’s a big poop, huh?”
His face turned a shade darker. He grunted louder and I couldn’t help but laugh. He watched me watching him through his clear blue eyes. I’d read somewhere that a lot of babies are born with blue eyes but they can change over time. A part of me had hoped that his would change, become brown like mine. Because every time I looked in his eyes, I saw Natalie. It didn’t make me angry or pissed off like it would most. It just kind of bugged me. Like, I wish he had more of me in him than her. You know… considering she wasn’t even around to see the epic poop-face that I was currently witnessing.
A diaper change and two aisles later, I heard, “Josh, is that you?” and I turned to see my Uncle Robby and his wife walking toward me, huge grins on both their faces. Uncle Robby was my dad’s stepbrother. He was only ten years older than me so he was more like a cousin than anything. We didn’t see each other often, once a year maybe, twice if we were lucky, but not once since Tommy was born.
I stopped pushing the cart and waited for them to join me. Robby’s wife, Kim, smiled even wider when she saw Tommy.
“Who’s this little guy?” Robby asked, and my heart dropped and realization set in: Dad was so ashamed he didn’t even tell his family about us.
I cleared my throat and raised my chin, my pride overpowering the need to sulk. “This is my son Tommy.”
Robby’s eyes went wide. “Your son?”
I nodded.
He looked from me to Tommy and back again. “Your dad never mentioned it.”
“Yeah, well my dad’s kind of an asshole,” I murmured.
“How old is he?”
“Nearly one,” I told him.
“Huh,” he said, then added, “You guys want to grab some lunch?”
“Can’t. Gotta get this stuff home and unpacked and Tommy needs to nap.” I turned the cart to face the exit. “What are you guys doing here anyway? I thought you moved to Charlotte?”
Kim answered, “We moved back a month ago. How about we take you boys out for dinner tomorrow night?”
Something felt off. When people found out I had a kid there were normally two reactions. (1) They ran the other direction and (2) They looked at me with so much pity in their eyes I wanted to punch them.
The last person who welcomed me was Chazarae and, honestly, I believe that was a higher person’s doing. I wasn’t religious, didn’t believe in a God, not unless she came in the form of a quiet but sometimes-kooky old Hawaiian lady who talked to her plants.
Kim smiled warmly and it finally hit me—which of the two reactions she was having. Pity. People can’t hide pity—it lives in their eyes, not in their fake smiles. “We’re good,” I said, starting to turn away. “We don’t need your charity.”
“Whoa!” Robby grabbed my arm. “Josh, I don’t know what your problem is but my wife just invited you to dinner. Nothing else. If you don’t want to go you can just say no. You don’t have to throw her kindness in her face.”
I stepped back; my shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. So maybe I was being over sensitive. I guess hearing the fact that your own father had completely cut all ties with you could do that to a person. I rubbed my eyes.
“Are you okay, Josh?” Robby asked.
“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry. How about you guys get some takeout and bring it to my place? I’m starved, but I gotta get Tommy home.”
Kim smiled again—the pity in her eyes completely wiped.
I gave them my address and told them to give me an hour or so to get Tommy settled.
By the time I got home, Tommy was asleep in the backseat. I put him in his crib, unloaded the groceries and a moment later, they showed up. We ate and made small talk in-between the long awkward silences. They asked if I was seeing anybody and I told them I wasn’t really interested in girls at the moment.
“What, you’re gay?” Robby shouted.
I threw a plastic fork at his head. “Shut up. You’ll wake Tommy. And no, I’m not gay!” I shook my head at him. “I just mean that Tommy takes precedence and I haven’t really been with anyone since Natalie.”
“Tommy’s mom?” Kim asked.
I nodded. Honestly, it felt good to have someone to actually talk to that spoke back. Hunter was gone on an impromptu road trip so it didn’t leave me much as far as adult conversation went.
“How’s the skateboarding going?” Robby asked.
“It’s not.”
“What to do you mean? You loved skating.”
“Yeah,” I shrugged, “But I love Tommy more, and I couldn’t have both.”
“So you just gave it up?” Robby said, eyeing Kim sideways.
“That’s a big deal, Josh. It’s a huge sacrifice,” Kim said.
I laughed awkwardly. It was my go-to reaction when people started pushing the wrong buttons. “Nothing I do for Tommy is a sacrifice.”
Robby cleared his throat, then asked, “You still hang out with that basketball kid?”
“Hunter? Yeah. Well, kind of. I mean I hope so. Things have changed.”
“Changed?”
“He got engaged,” I said with a shrug.
<
br /> “Oh yeah?” Kim asked. “That’s a little young.”
I stayed silent—opting to leave out the parts about their road trip and Chloe’s cancer diagnosis.
“Josh?” Kim said, and this time—I didn’t have to look in her eyes to feel her pity. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said. But the truth? I’d been alone since Hunter had left. And not just alone or isolated or disregarded, but I was lonely. Though I’d never admit that to anyone.
★★★
I half-assed it through cleanup the next day and sped home. Robby had called earlier and said that he and Kim wanted to drop by to talk about something. Honestly, when they mentioned they’d keep in touch, I didn’t believe them.
They came in and sat on the only couch I had and I pulled up a chair from the kitchen table.
I watched them.
They watched me.
Occasionally, they’d watch each other.
“So, good talk. Thanks for dropping by,” I said.
Robby laughed a little.
Kim cleared her throat and sat up straighter while Robby took her hand in his.
My eyes narrowed, my gaze moving from her to Robby. He smiled but it was tight. Then he kissed his wife on the cheek and focused his attention on me. “I know you said you didn’t want charity and we’re not here for that.”
I crossed my arms. “So what do you want?”
He glanced over at his wife again. “Kim—she loves kids. We both do… and that’s kind of why we’re here,” Robby said.
Confusion set in, only for a moment before I realized what the hell he was saying. “What the fire truck? You can’t have my kid!”
His eyes widened. “No, dickhead. We’re not asking for your kid.”
I sat back in my chair and uncrossed my arms. “So why are you here?”
“I wanted to offer you a job—one that I’m sure pays better than that bowling alley.”
“What kind of job?”
“I started my own construction company here. It has the potential to be pretty big thanks to the old man’s money. That’s why we moved back. I need laborers, Josh. There’s room to move higher in the company—if that’s something you’d be interested in. There’ll be deadlines to get a job complete, but you could make your own hours… work it around Tommy.” He sucked in a breath, then added, “I know you said you’re driving around in your friend’s car, which is fine, but if you were interested in the job you’d need to use the company truck. It’s a crew cab, so you’ll have room for Tommy in the back. It’ll be hard work, I’m not going to lie, but I’ll make sure the pay’s worth it.” He nudged Kim.
“Oh, me?” she asked, surprised.
He nodded.
She looked nervous.
It made me nervous.
She said, “I was wondering—I mean, if you decide to take the job… if maybe I could watch Tommy while you were working? I don’t work at the moment and it would be my pleasure.” She pulled out her phone from her pocket. “I can give you the numbers of personal references if you don’t feel like you can trust me right away. We can start a couple hours a week. Whatever you want, Josh. It would save you money on daycare—”
“Why?” I cut in, raising my chin and squaring my shoulders. “Why offer me a job, let me work my own hours, pay me well? Why give me a car and offer to watch my kid? Why?”
Robby answered, “Because you’re family, Josh, and regardless of how the world has shown you otherwise, decent people—they don’t turn their backs on their family.”
★★★
I took the offered job. I’d be stupid not to. Maybe it would help give Tommy and I a head start instead of living paycheck to paycheck and counting dimes.
When I went to hand in my two weeks’ notice, the manager at the bowling alley told me to leave on the spot and not to bother coming back. It was kind of a blessing because it meant I could start work with Robby right away.
The work was hard, especially considering I’d been used to merely handing out shoes and taking people’s money. The pay, however, was good—a little too good. I tried to talk to Robby about it. I specifically told him he was paying me way too much. He called me a dickhead and told me to get back to work.
The first day, I pulled Tommy out of daycare and let Kim watch him. She came by the job site twice. I didn’t know if it was for her benefit or mine but I was grateful she did because truthfully, I was worried about how they’d get along. The fact that Tommy didn’t want to leave her house when I’d gone to pick him up sealed the deal.
And so for the next two years, I didn’t feel so alone, at least not in the grand scheme of things. I had help, emotional and financial, and I no longer felt like I was cracking under the strain of my life.
Until she came along.
1
-Becca-
fear
fɪə/
noun
an unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger, pain, or harm.
It’s also a completely strange and difficult and sometimes unjustifiable emotion.
I’ve lived with fear for all of the reasons listed above. But now I’m experiencing it for an entirely different one.
Uncertainty.
I look out the window while my grandmother speaks to me from the driver’s seat. “I want you to feel comfortable. My home is your home now. Your father…” she says, and I tune her out, choosing instead to focus on the trees that line the streets and the rays of sunlight filtering through the leaves. I wind down my window and inhale deeply, feeling the heat against my cheeks. Then I close my eyes and rest my head against the seat. It feels good just to be able to breathe. Just breathe. Because the simple act of breathing is a constant struggle when you live your life in fear.
Her car sways as she drives over a bump, pulling me from my daze. “There they are,” she says, and I look out the windshield at some guy opening the driveway gate. There who are? I think to myself. The guy smiles, or more like grins like an idiot and yells out to some kid running toward the car. He picks up the kid quickly and moves out of the way so Chazarae (or Grams, as she wants me to call her) can park in front of the house.
Once Chazarae’s out of the car, I grab the bag by my feet and hold it to my chest, looking up at the two-story house that’s apparently now my home.
“Rebecca,” she calls out and my eyes drift shut.
I step out of the car and meet her at the trunk. “Becca,” I tell her, my voice cracking from lack of use.
“What’s that?” she asks, the pity and confusion clear in her voice.
“My name’s Becca. Rebecca is my mother.” Was my mother, I should have said.
Her eyebrows furrow and the aged wrinkles around her eyes tighten when she quietly says, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I murmur, feeling guilty for her reaction. Slowly, I reach up, wanting to touch her, to show her that I’m the one who should be sorry. But the fear of uncertainty prevents the contact and I drop my hand to my side, the other still clutching my bag.
“This is the boy I was telling you about,” she says, just as the guy, still holding the kid, steps beside her. “Joshua, this is Becca. Becca, this is Joshua.”
She must have mentioned him in the car after I’d tuned her out because all I can think is what boy?
Joshua places the little boy carefully on the ground and removes his hat, revealing his shaggy dark hair and dark brown eyes—eyes that squint as they look directly at mine. He blinks hard and blows out a breath and I wonder if he’s spotted one of the many scars I try so hard to hide. Then I remember they’re not visible—at least not to anyone else.
“Hi,” he finally says, raising his hand between us. I look down at the hand, and then at my grandmother, panicked, pleading with her to understand me.
The confusion on her face passes quickly. She grabs Joshua’s arm and spins him to face her. “I’m glad you’re here. We need your muscles.”
Joshua’s still looking at me even th
ough he’s facing her and I don’t know why. So I avert my gaze and look down at the little boy who’s looking up at me, his grin wide and unassuming. And I decide then and there that he may possibly be my favorite person in the entire world. He won’t ever care enough to ask questions I don’t want to answer—questions I’ve heard way too many times before.
I raise my hand in a small wave and he smiles wider. And I realize then that his smile is identical to Joshua’s. I quickly look between them both. Joshua must realize what I’m thinking, or at least guessing, because he says, “That’s my son. Say hi, Tommy.”
“Hi Tommy!” the kid shouts, and I almost smile.
Almost.
“Becca’s my granddaughter,” my grandmother tells Joshua. “She’s going to be staying with us for a while.”
Us?
After a moment’s silence, I hear Josh say, “Cool.” Right before he sets my suitcase by my feet. I pull up the handle and that’s all I do because I don’t know where I am and who I’m with and what the hell I’m doing.
“Josh lives in the garage apartment,” my grandmother informs and I nod in response.
“Did you need a hand carrying your bags up the stairs?” Josh asks.
I look back up at him but he’s already watching me—his eyes focused on mine like they were before.
“No,” I tell him, but it comes out a whisper. I swallow nervously, my mouth dry and my heart racing—no doubt caused by his impenetrable gaze. “But thank you.” This time I actually do smile. It’s fake as shit but it’s still there, and if I’m lucky enough, he won’t notice.
I don’t think he hears me though because he doesn’t seem to respond, he just continues to stare.
So I take a step back, away from all of them, rolling my suitcase with me as I look down at the kid; my new best friend. I raise my hand in another wave and somehow his smile gets even wider. He grabs onto his dad’s leg before shouting, “Bye Tommy!”