by M. E. Carter
When Brittany gave me their address and explained how to get to their house, it made more sense why they dropped by Ace’s when she was about to give birth. They’re home is on the property so the main house was on their way. Good thing he did, too. I’m not sure the nurses would have appreciated him showing up in his tighty whities. Not that it would have been the first time, I’m sure. A friend of mine is a Labor and Delivery nurse. She has some stories.
When I make it to the front door and knock, Brittany answers almost immediately.
“I am so glad you’re here,” she says. “I love my baby, but I forgot what it’s like to have arms. Would you please hold him?”
She thrusts the bundle at me and takes the Tupperware out of my hands, getting no argument from me. I could go for some baby snuggles right now.
Waving me over the threshold, she leads me into the house. It’s small, but comfortable. Definitely more modern than the farm house Ace lives in with a more open concept and fresh paint. It’s also very clear that a newborn lives here, what with more baby supplies than I’ve ever seen in my life scattered all over the living room, some of them unnecessary at this point. What in the world do they need a giant play kitchen set? The baby doesn’t even sit up yet!
“Thank you for the food. What is it?” She peels back part of the lid to peek inside.
“Thanksgiving Mash. It’s a recipe I found on line. Basically, it’s all our left overs thrown in a pot and turned into stew. It’s good.”
“It sounds good.” She breathes in deeply and sighs. “Smells good, too.”
“It is. I tried some to make sure. I hope it helps you out a bit. I remember what it was like to have a newborn and my husband gone to work all day. It’s exhausting. This way you don’t have to cook.”
“And I so appreciate it.” She puts the container in the fridge and waves me back to the living room, plopping down on one of the couches. I gently lower myself onto a loveseat, trying not to jostle the baby. “I need to thank you for helping us the night Nio was born. Pedro has taken to being a daddy like a champ, but getting there was quite the shit show.”
I snort a laugh. “Really. I don’t know how those two get things done around here sometimes.”
Pulling her legs up beneath her, she gets more comfortable. “I’ve seen them dealing with emergencies before and they’re usually fine. I guess neither of them have ever dealt with those protective urges over a tiny human before so they didn’t quite know what to do.”
“I suppose not. Either way, you’re going to have a really funny story to tell this little one when he gets older. Isn’t that right,” I coo at him, bringing him down to my lap so I can get a good look at his sweet face.
He’s a beautiful baby, and I don’t just say that to be nice. He’s got darker skin like his dad, but light features like his mom. Light eyebrows, light eyelashes, light tuft of hair on his head. If he ends up with blue eyes like his mom, he’s going to be a heart breaker when he gets older.
Brittany gazes at her baby lovingly as I stroke his cheek with my finger. “Does holding him give you baby fever?”
“Not at all,” I say without hesitation. “I am thirty-nine-years-old and have no interest in starting over. This shop is closed. Although I’m sad Ace won’t get to experience it.” Realizing what I said, I feel my face flush. “Not that there was any talk about that anyway.”
Thankfully she ignores my guffaw. “He’ll be ok. I think he made peace with that issue a long time ago. I’m sure it helps that he’ll end up being a huge part of raising this one.”
“Mmm,” is the only response I give. I’m not sure I want to talk about Ace. I’d rather talk about breastfeeding, sleep patterns and monitoring bowel movements.
“Are you guys fighting?”
I should have known Brittany would be more observant than that.
Looking up at her, I see only concern on her face. “I wouldn’t say we’re fighting, exactly.”
“Are you sure? Pedro says Ace looks like shit and has been really irritable since Thanksgiving.”
This is news to me. “Really? I thought it was just me having an issue.”
She cocks her head and purses her lips. “You know Ace is way more observant than that.”
I sigh. She’s right. I shouldn’t be surprise that Ace is feeling me distance myself a bit. It’s not distance from him, per se. I’m just trying to figure out how to feel about him stepping in to help me, and then leaving me hanging for the clean-up.
“I’m just processing through some stuff. You know Oli, my son, has meltdowns sometimes and is really difficult.”
She nods because she does know. Oli’s defiance put Pedro in the hospital a couple months ago. I’m almost surprised she’s letting me in her house after that trauma. If I were her, I might still be holding onto some resentment over it.
“He had one when everyone was over for Thanksgiving. Ace helped me get him calm, but he disciplined him without talking to me about it first.”
“Did you not want him to do that?”
“No. It’s not that.” Nio takes that moment to start fussing. I’m kind of glad. It gives me a chance to try and put my thoughts in order as I pop him up on my shoulder and begin swaying side to side. “He gave Oli a punishment that I had to follow through with even after he was gone. So I got stuck fighting with Oli for a second time after everyone left.”
“Was it something you wouldn’t have done otherwise?” When I look at her, she holds her hands up defensively. “I’m just playing devil’s advocate. I find it helps me when I’m having a hard time sorting out my thoughts.”
“Not necessarily. It’s just… I didn’t have the option to decide if it was worth choosing this battle. But I was kind of forced into following through with it. It just made things harder on me later. He wasn’t wrong, but I can’t figure out if he crossed a line or not. It’s hard to explain.”
Brittany presses her lips together and looks at the ceiling momentarily, like she’ trying to put her own words together. “I don’t know if I’d say he crossed a line. But let me ask you another question…was he wrong in his thought process?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, was the punishment over the top or unjust. Or something you would never do because you don’t believe in that kind of discipline.”
I shake my head and she nods hers in response.
“Ace has been doing this a long time. From what you’re telling me, it sounds like it may be less about what he did and more about your disappointment that you didn’t do it first.”
Her words hit their intended target. Ace didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, he did everything right. I’m just so used to doing it myself, and frankly, I’m so exhausted from the last several years, instead of recognizing that Ace’s method worked, I’ve been focusing on the argument Oli and I had later—one we would have had later anyway because we have it every night when he complains about not having enough tablet time.
Finally breaking my own strong will, I sigh. “You’re right. I haven’t had to share ideas on discipline for well over five years. Longer if you consider that my ex was never home to begin with and would always hide upstairs in our room when he was home. I guess instead of looking at how it worked, I was focusing on the fact that Ace doesn’t know our routine.”
“Which is why he can see the big picture in a way you can’t because you’re so close to it. Maybe his suggestion would work.”
“It actually did,” I admit. “Oli told the truth twice in a row, which is really hard on him. Like it’s physically painful for him to take responsibility for his own actions.”
Brittany’s lips twitch in a half smile. “That’s pretty standard with the kids who come here. Emotions aren’t their strong suit so one as harsh as conviction is really hard for them to process.”
I nod in agreement because I see that all the time in Oli. Emotions make him uncomfortable. Anytime he triggers, there is almost always a big emotion attached to the meltdown. L
ooks like his mother might be sporting of that same issue.
“Well now I feel bad. I didn’t want to make Ace upset. I just wanted to figure out what I was feeling so I could get over it.”
She shrugs. “That man is head over heels for you. I’m not surprised he’s that intuitive when it comes to you.”
A smile crosses my face. “You think he’s head over heels for me?”
“Pfft.” She waves her hand at me like that’s the most insane thing she’s ever heard. “I’ve been working here for over ten years. I’ve never seen him light up so much when he talks about a woman. And I’ve never known anyone to spend the night before.”
My heart swells with that information. I knew Ace and I enjoyed each other’s company, but to know he feels more for me… well, that makes me feel even more desperate to get this misunderstanding behind us.
“The morning milking should be over by now,” Brittany continues. “I’m guessing you can find him in the barn if you need to. Probably working on that damn mechanical bull Pedro doesn’t think I know about. I swear I need an ‘I’m with stupid’ t-shirt.”
The decision made, I hand Nio back to his mama, kissing him the top of his sweet-smelling head. “Bye baby boy. I’ll see you again soon.” Standing up, I check my pocket for my phone and my keys. “And thank you Brittany. You should be a therapist.”
“I live with Pedro,” she says as she kisses her sleeping baby lightly. “Figuring out what the hell people are even talking about has become my specialty over the years.”
Laughing, I make my way out the door, closing it quietly behind me. Now that I know what my own issue is, I feel like a weight has been lifted off of me. Hopefully I can find Ace and get the last of those weights off my chest.
Pleased that I finally have the new remote set up for the mechanical bull, I wonder why the hell I’m putting so much time and effort into fixing it in the first place. Ever since making me help him pull it out, Pedro and I have been tinkering with it way too much.
At first, I thought it was a dumb idea. But it started bringing back memories of when we were young and idealistic. The world was our oyster and all that shit.
Where did the last twenty years of our lives go? I think to myself, even though I know the answer. They went right into this farm.
Normally, it doesn’t bother me. I have a full life… a home. A successful business. A program helping to put successful young adults out in the world. Good friends. I love these things. I wouldn’t trade them for the world. So why am I starting to question if it’s all enough?
I think Nio being born, combined with this weird rift between Greer and I just brought to the surface the insecurities that I don’t normally notice. Insecurities that like to convince me I missed my chance. I missed my chance at being a father. Maybe I even missed my chance at finding the love of my life.
I don’t know why it wasn’t in the cards for me, but every day after my fortieth birthday I get further away from ever having the opportunity for either of those things.
Pushing away my thoughts I focus on the task at hand… trying out the new remote.
I climb up in the saddle, positioning myself as well as possible before securing the remote in its cradle. It’s a little awkward trying to get the reign around it, so I make a mental note to adjust the cradle’s location when I know it works.
Pressing the power button, the machinery hums to life. That’s a good sign. Turning the knob slowly with my left hand, we start moving. Rocking back and forth in a smooth motion. So far so good.
Turning a little more and pressing a button, we go a little faster, slow spins intermixing with the bucking.
I give it a few seconds to make sure it doesn’t glitch before turning the knob again, moving at a more respectable bronc riding speed.
Pleased with myself for fixing a thirty-year-old piece of machinery, I relax into the motion and enjoy ride, letting my inner twenty-year-old come out and play.
Spinning toward the door, I glance up to see Greer leaning against the jam, smirking at me.
“I know those hips can go faster than that,” she flirts and I know she’s referring to that night together.
Pressing the stop button, the machine slows down smoothly, until finally coming to rest with Greer and me facing each other.
“What are you doing here? With the way you seem to be avoiding me, I figured I was going to have to come track you down.”
I don’t mean to sound rude or angry, but when she grimaces I realize my words have come across snippier than I intended.
Dropping my head, I apologize quickly. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
She pushes off the door way and walks my direction. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I wasn’t avoiding you…”
“You kind of were.”
“Okay fine. I kind of was. But not for the reason you think.” Teetering around while trying to navigate her way through the eighteen-inch-thick landing mats, she finally comes to a stop next to me. I throw my leg over the bull to stand in front of her and pull her into my arms, hugging her tight. She reciprocates immediately, wrapping her arms around my neck. Breathing in deep, I just enjoy the feel of her.
“I’ve missed you. I’m sorry I left you to implement a punishment I had no right to give. I wasn’t even thinking.”
Pulling back, she gazes into my eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I would have fought with Oli anyway. It’s kind of inevitable.”
“Then what happened? Why did you disappear?”
She begins plucking invisible link off my shirt while she speaks. “I think I wasn’t so much angry that you punished him as much as I was angry that he has to be punished at all. I’m tired of it, Ace. I’m tired of being embarrassed when people see him melt because I’m afraid of the judgment. I’m tired of having to give these punishments at all. And I think when you did it, and did it better than me, I questioned my own ability.”
“Babe—”
“No listen,” she interrupts so I comply, knowing she needs to get it all out. “I’ve spent a lot of years being isolated from everyone except teachers at Oli’s school and online friends. Moving here is the best thing we ever did, but I think it’s taking me some time to get used to the fact that there’s no judgment here. My brother isn’t silently condemning me. Neither is Joie. Isaac certainly didn’t flinch when Oli started yelling.
I snicker through my nose. “No, I’m pretty sure he was moving onto his second helpings by the time we got back into that room.”
“Someone needed to. The fridge is still full and I just dropped half the leftovers off with Brittany.”
“Are you who her company was?”
She nods. “Of course. I needed to get my hands on that baby before he stops smelling like a newborn and starts smelling like a stinky toddler.”
I want to laugh because I know full well how stinky that baby will be with Pedro as a dad, but I don’t. I’m too grateful for her being here, sharing her fears.
“Anyway,” she continues. “I’m working on shifting my way of thinking. I’m going to try to remember that we’re a team. Taking the dating out of the equation, you are one of his mentors through school and I’m his mom. We work together for his well-being no matter where we are.”
I’m not sure if it makes me happy to know she’s come to this conclusion. I don’t want to support her because of my position in the school. I want to help her because I love her. Not that she knows it yet. But I also don’t want to push now that she’s finally processing her own issues. “Does thinking about it that way help?”
“It does. It makes me feel less like I’m giving up control and that I’m a bad parent. More like I’m tag teaming with someone who truly understands.”
Now that’s a statement I feel good about. Cupping her cheek, I stare into her brown eyes. “I do understand. And I promise I will never, ever judge you as a parent. I love you, Greer.”
Her eyes widen in shock, but quickly soften as a smile takes ove
r. “I love you, too, Grayson.”
She leans up on her tip toes and presses her lips to mine, making my world finally start spinning again. I didn’t realize how much it had stopped until now. “God, I missed you,” I mumble against her mouth.
“I missed you, too,” she whispers in response and pulls away, running her hands down my chest and licking her lips. “Now that we’ve got that cleared up, what are you doing out here anyway?”
Shifting my body so I can grab the remote, I show her my new device. “Pedro and I have been working on this a little bit and I was testing it out. Making sure it works right.”
“And does it?”
“So far so good.” Noticing a sultry look in her eye, I cock my head at her. “What? What are you thinking?”
She pushes away from me, walking around the bull, sliding her hand down the back of it and trying to sway her hips. It looks less like a sway and more like she’s off balance since she’s stepping on eighteen inches of padding. But if she feels like being playful, I’m not going to call her out.
“Can I try?”
My eyes pop wide. “Riding the mechanical bull?”
She flashes me a flirty grin. “I wanna see how hard I can ride it.”
How does this woman always make my brain short out? I blink once. Twice. Then scramble to my feet and help her up.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, double checking that she really thinks this is a good idea. Somehow, I suspect she’s never been on one of these before. This is going to be interesting.
“Let me ride, cowboy.” She tries to be flirty, but I can see that suddenly she’s a bit unsure. Like it was a good idea when it was in her head, but now that she’s sitting on top, not so much.
But I admit, I’m a little turned on by this game, slowly I turn the knob, giving it just enough juice to rock back and forth. Her hips coordinate with the motion and I suddenly have flashbacks to the night she was riding me. Remembering how much she liked that, I give the knob a tiny little nudge.
They begin to move faster and Greer throws her arm above her head, trying her best to imitate a bronc rider and failing miserably. In fact, she may be more uncoordinated riding than she is dancing.