by Paige North
All I know is that his hands entwined in mine feel like I’ve always known them. Like they were meant for mine. I know he’s had to have touched dozens of women in his life so far, but right now, his big, strong hands are mine. These perfect nails, his perfect veins roping over his skin, so sexy, I can’t stand it. But he doesn’t want more than this tonight. He only wants to hold me. And kiss. And sleep.
And I’m good with it.
So good, in fact, I fall asleep dreaming this is my life—forever.
Ethan
I have to get out of this house.
I can’t remember the last time I was here so many consecutive days. The office hasn’t seen me in a while. I don’t want to stop there, because I don’t want people asking me questions. I decide on a walk down Fifth Avenue, maybe take a train ride downtown. Donning hat and glasses, most people don’t know who I am.
Penelope stands at the kitchen counter getting a drink. She looks exasperated and tired.
“You okay?” I ask, pausing in the doorway.
“Yeah, just tired. Lilly Belle’s been a little cranky this morning.”
Lilly Belle does indeed look cranky, and I feel bad leaving them here while I get some fresh air, but I need to be alone after the changes going on between me and Penelope. “Are those flowers?” On the counter is a vase filled with sunflowers. They look bright, happy, and alien in my house.
“Yes. I asked Luz to bring some. Hope that was okay. Sunflowers make me happy. I think Lilly Belle likes them, too.” She smiles at the baby in a tired way.
“Why is she biting her hand like that?” I ask. Silly Lilly is gnawing relentlessly on half her hand.
“Probably teething. She’s eight months now.” Eight months. Shit. Before we know it, she’s going to be nearing her first birthday. I have to decide on her adoption ASAP. I’ve been avoiding it, just like I’m avoiding the office.
“Hey, I’m heading out for a bit. I’ll be back later.” I tap the doorframe and head for the door without giving out any more information. I’m tempted to ask if she and the baby want to come with me, but it’s too much.
“I remember going out alone,” she laughs under her breath. “Noony’s on 34th and Broadway. Love their blueberry scones. Seems like so long ago.”
“I’ll have some delivered.”
She smiles sadly, like it’s not the same. “Thanks.”
Closing the door, I step outside, taking in a huge breath of air. Holy fuck, I need this. Open spaces, fall air in my nose, spiking my eyes with tears.
This time of year really is nice in New York City. Maybe later, if I’m feeling adventurous, I’ll stay with the baby for a few minutes just so Penelope can take a walk alone, too. I’ve noticed she needs a break, and I haven’t exactly let her have one in almost two weeks. I end up walking all the way to Washington Square, remembering all the things I love about this city when I’m not tied up inside my building.
The time lets me think. I never meant to get so close to Penelope—it just happened. How did I go from “don’t come anywhere near me” to “want to make out on my bed?” We didn’t shed even one piece of clothing last night. Kissing for hours was probably the most intimate thing I’ve done with anyone. I have her face memorized in my mind now. The little beauty mark on her cheek, the dark lashes with the golden tips to them, the fullness of those pink lips. She’s beautiful in the most natural, alluring way.
I know it’s wrong to be doing this, but it feels right somehow.
Until it doesn’t.
Nobody could ever erase my past, and that’s why this can’t continue. First of all, she’s too young for me, she doesn’t even have her career out of the gate, though it must be hard to do when she has to take nanny jobs for assholes like me. Second of all, I’m damaged goods. I can’t make any girl happy, not with a fucked-up brain like I have. I’m good for a quick fuck, but not for love.
Love is for the brave. And the whole.
I’m a bag of broken bones. She’ll hate me in time.
Several miles on my feet later, I’m ready to go back, taking a different route than the one that brought me here. I love this neighborhood and wish I’d walk around more often. I spot Noony’s, the coffee shop that Penelope mentioned, and slip inside for a minute to pick up ten blueberry scones so she can have plenty to freeze for later. On my way out, something tells me to get the baby something, too, so I walk into a CVS. They would have those plastic things that babies chew on when their teeth hurt, right?
I pay for the chew ring, trying not to overanalyze anything too much, avoiding glances from passersby who think they recognize me.
When I arrive back into the house, I’m surprised to hear the baby crying and right away, it grits against my eardrum. Me and babies don’t mix, which was Reason #1 for putting her up for adoption. Yeah, she’s cute and all, but it was bound to happen when she’d have one of those bad crying spells that irritate the shit out of you, which is why I asked Penelope to stay upstairs most of the time.
Still, as annoying as the sound is, I follow it.
Because something is clearly wrong, and besides, I come bearing gifts.
Walking into the nursery, I see Penelope holding Lilly Belle, bouncing her around, singing, totally wiped, and the baby’s face is flushed bright pink. Her voice is even a little hoarse like she’s been crying a while. “Hey. She okay?”
“No, Ethan, she’s not. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. Shh…shh…my little sweet pea, it’s okay.”
I pull the chew toy out of the plastic bag in my hands and tear off the packaging. “I brought you something,” I tell the baby, handing the colorful ring to her. She’s going to love it, though I can’t believe I’m talking to a small infant creature who doesn’t even understand English. “Here you go.”
Lilly Belle snatches the ring from my hand. I feel good to have helped somehow, but then she tosses the fucking thing to the floor and starts crying even harder. What the hell?
“It has to be washed first anyway, Ethan. And kept cool in the fridge. It’s the cold that soothes the gums, but thanks for bringing it. I’ll try using it later.” She paces across the room with the baby while I stand there helpless.
“I brought scones, too, for you whenever you want.” I hold up the bag, knowing that’s going to make her happy to have her favorite blueberry scones, but Penelope only gives me a forced smile then sits in the gliding chair to try a different quieting tactic.
So much for trying to be thoughtful. It didn’t work, but it felt good while it lasted.
I’m sitting in the living room listening to a podcast on the steel industry when she walks in with Lilly Belle twenty minutes later. “I’m going to try going for a walk with her. I don’t know what’s wrong, and we all need some fresh air. Do you want to come with us?”
As she opens the closet, unfolds the stroller and loads the baby in, all single-handedly while I sit there like a king on his fucking throne, being a useless dick, I think about her question. It’s an easy question, but the answer has all sorts of implications. Yeah, I’d like to walk with her, but do I want everyone seeing us together? No one may know who I am on the train downtown, but at the park across the street there are women. Women who know me, and I know them. I even know some of their husbands. What will they think when they see us all together taking a nice walk?
Who fucking cares?
Do I care about their feelings or Penelope’s? That seals it.
“Sure, I’ll go,” I say, slapping closed my iPad case and heading out after her.
It’s close to sunset and the colors are insane. Orange, yellow, red, and all sorts of amazingness. Though I already went for a walk earlier, this time’s different. We may not talk about it, but it’s clear we’re doing this for the first time—going outside together. In public. The baby quiets immediately. Amazing what a simple trick going outside can do for a crying baby. So many high-tech toys for what? The air is free. The leaves are free. The paved park roads are free.
I think I even feel a smile emerging on my face. It can’t be. It must be hay fever.
I know Lilly Belle loves the walk, because she’s sucking on the ring I got her. “She loves that chew toy,” I tell Penelope. “We should’ve brought the scones.”
“It’s called a teething ring, not a chew toy.” She laughs.
Penelope pulls out a small bag from her pocket. She breaks off a tiny piece of scone and hands it to Lilly Belle who devours it and asks for more. This woman thinks of everything. So prepared, like a Girl Scout. She offers me one. “You know, I’m amazed by your resourcefulness,” I tell her. I saw her getting the stroller ready, multi-tasking like she had eight arms. I’m amazed by that and so much more.
She looks at me funny. I guess I’d look at me funny too if I suddenly started paying her compliments. “Thanks.”
We come upon the play area, and I start dreading who I’m going to run into. Right away, I see a few mothers, and it’s a sad day when I can’t remember which ones I’ve slept with and which ones I haven’t. Not proud of it, mind you.
They all stare at us as we walk past. Somebody mutters, “Well, I’ll be damned. He can be tamed.” I bite my lip pretty hard. We keep walking, heads held high. I don’t think Penelope heard it, but I got it loud and clear. Is that what they think of me? That I’m a wild stallion being domesticated by this young girl? She’s my nanny, for fuck’s sake. Anybody can see that.
Nobody controls me, not even Penelope.
If that’s what they think is happening, if that’s the reality of our situation, then I’m fucked. I can’t go down that road. It’s a recipe for disaster. I’ve made a mistake coming out here with her. “We should go back. It’s getting late,” I say
“But we just got here. And this is the most gorgeous time of day.” She closes her eyes, sticking her nose up in the air. “Feel that breeze.”
Fuck, she’s right. It’s an amazing evening. And if it means Lilly Belle feeling better, so she and I can both get a good night’s sleep, I’ll stick it out. I have to get over this. I have to get over my fear of closeness. Behind closed doors is one thing, but when you take it publicly, it’s a whole different ball game. It means it’s serious.
I fight the urge to give the bitchy moms my middle finger.
Luckily, we don’t encounter anyone else who knows me. We venture through a more quiet park of the park where we pass an old couple sitting on a bench together. Penelope nods in greeting, and the couple lean their heads into each other as if sharing a secret.
“We were just saying,” the old fella says, pointing at Lilly Belle with his cane. “That the three of you remind us of us when we were your age.”
“When we’d just had our first born,” his wife agrees, finishing off applying her lipstick and putting the case away. “Such a happy family.”
A happy family. Is that what they see?
The ache emerges out of nowhere. It rises right out of my gut and heads straight into my chest where it begins to suffocate me. We’re not a happy family. I don’t have happy family material in me, and this woman by my side is my employee. This child is my sister’s, and all of this was forced on me without my consent.
The magnitude of just how much my life has changed in such little time smacks me hard upside the head, and I find myself fighting for breath. I even separate myself from Penelope and the baby a bit, walking ahead. I’m not part of them.
“Ethan, are you okay?” Penelope’s concerned voice reminds me that I need to play it cool, or she’ll start asking questions, making it all worse. When we get back to the house, I can let loose at the gym like a madman, take a long shower, work on financials—anything to erase the significance of this evening’s outing.
A happy family. The potential is evident but still as impossible as it ever was.
It can’t happen. Not with me in the picture as the father or guardian. I won’t subject any children to the pain of life’s cruel reality the way it was subjected on me. Lilly Belle’s been through enough. And she deserves better than what she’s got.
Penelope
They say that sometimes in life you get premonitions, or you see things you otherwise wouldn’t be able to see. Well, something about the walk in the park tonight allowed me to see things in a different light, like tapping into an alternate reality. The old couple on the bench saw it, too. They thought we were a family.
Could we be?
But Ethan seemed distracted. I’m sure it’s because of work, but I wanted to be sure it wasn’t me, so after we put Lilly Belle to bed at night, I close the door and turn to him. “Do you want to come to my room?” I ask, putting myself on the firing line.
“I can’t,” he says. “Have a Skype meeting in the morning I have to prepare for, but maybe another time.” Another time. Not tomorrow, not any day/time specifically, just “another time.”
Rejected.
But hey, I get it. What’s happening to us is weird, and he’s allowed to feel weird about it, and I should give him space if he needs it. Same with me. “Sure, sounds good.” I fake a smile and slip into my room to let out an antsy breath, waiting to see if he’ll kiss me or change his mind, come charging in to take advantage of me. My body tingles with anticipation and need. I want him so much, but I also want to know where we stand, and if he can’t commit to a kiss, then I should probably push him out of my mind.
He leaves quickly while I get ready for bed.
Only I don’t get to rest long, because Miss Lilly Belle Poopypants has decided she can’t sleep either. I don’t understand. I did everything right—I gave her a nice lavender bath, I gave her a full bottle, sang her “You Are My Sunshine,” and I even put her in her favorite brushed cotton PJs.
It has to be the teething, only when I enter her room, I find her, not only burning up, but sick to her stomach. After changing her, I fetch her some water, but she pushes the bottle away, so I look for the thermometer and see she’s got 101. Baby Motrin, it is. Tummy virus, most likely. We’ll have to go to the doctor in the morning.
I wonder if Ethan would come with us again or blow us off like we don’t exist.
Hot and cold, hot and cold. Ethan is like Lilly Belle’s fever, on and off.
As it turns out, Lilly has a stomach virus, but thankfully, it’s only the 24-hour kind. We don’t go out much. I guess it doesn’t matter. Germs are everywhere and we did walk through Central Park yesterday. Ethan comes in to check on her every once in a while, looking concerned, and I have to assure him that babies get sick just like adults do, and she’ll be fine.
“I just want to make sure,” he says several times.
“Ethan, it’s all good. I promise.” And it is for the rest of the day, but I’m happy to see him worried for her. He should be. Lilly Belle gets back on her feet—well, not literally—but soon, she’s her happy peppy self again, playing with rings, sitting up, falling onto her side and rolling around the room, her preferred method of mobility.
That night, she sleeps like a rock. Taking care of her hasn’t given me much time to think about much else, but I’ve noticed Ethan lingering around a lot, almost like he’s not sure if to come in or not. When he stands in my open doorway in workout pants and no shirt, I almost faint at the sight of him. I expect him to chastise me like he used to for leaving the door unlocked, but he only leans against the frame watching me.
“Thank you,” he says.
“For what? Just doing my job.” I pull the comforter close to me. So cold outside. Meanwhile my body heats up for his touch.
“For taking care of Lilly. I know you are, but you don’t have to do it well. You don’t have to care, but you do.”
“Are you just going to stand there? Come in,” I say from my bed.
“The sassy one speaks. You know, you forget who owns this house, I think.” He walks in and sits on the edge of my bed, like he’s scared to lie down with me. I never know how he’s going to be feeling from one day to the next.
I take his hand. “I haven’t forgott
en. Just fucking with you, Ethan.”
His eyes light up with a smile. “I like when you fuck with me.” The following sigh is so heavy, I can tell there’s a lot on his mind. I pull on his arm to encourage him to lie down with me, and he does. Dying for warmth, I curl up into his chest which feels cool to the touch under the ceiling fan, but after a minute warms up against my skin. I don’t know if we’ll kiss or make love or what. Not feeling well anyway. Must be exhaustion.
I shiver against him.
Ethan places his hand on my forehead. “You feel warm. I think you’re getting sick, too, Sweetness. Stay here.” He scrambles off the bed and disappears down the hall, coming back a few minutes later with a glass of water for me and a thermometer. “Yep. You got whatever the baby had. Shit,” he says dramatically.
“It’s alright. It’s not like it was your fault.”
“I could’ve helped more. I could’ve given you time to yourself.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. Once you catch a virus, you’ve caught it.”
He gives me two fever-reducing pills, which he practically has to force feed to me, since in the time he’s been in my room, my fever chills spike. I tremble underneath the comforter, wrapping it tightly around me, even though I know I’m not supposed to.
Right away, he’s on his phone searching for information. “Says here you shouldn’t do that. You should let the ambient air cool your body down.”
“I know, but I’m so coooolddd…”
By morning, Wilson is there to make me chicken soup and take care of Lilly Belle, all the while I stay in bed curled up and watching Netflix sideways against my pillow. Ethan doesn’t leave my side. He watches the show with me and even works from his laptop on my bed. It’s weird to hear him talking to secretaries and supervisors about steel and projection charts and all sorts of business things. He takes on a completely different tone when he talks to them—the cold, steely Ethan.