by Kara Hart
“Bye, mom!” he says, unbuckling his seat belt.
“Give me a kiss, Aidan.” He kisses my cheek and jumps out of the car. “I love you so much!” I say, feeling my heart expand.
Part of me feels angry with Walker. Another part of me is just confused. If I just got some clarity, I’d feel so much better about everything. I’d feel like maybe I could move on. Still, I think about him every day. I know it’s crazy. But I do.
It’s not that I still like him. It’s not even about that. He’s a part of me now. More than that, he’s a part of Aidan and he deserves to know who is dad really is. Not to mention, there’s some child support I could really use right now. The ten thousand only lasted so long. Now, with my new lower-level marketing job, I’m making half of what I used to.
Right now, Aidan’s the easies thing about my life. I scroll through my email, looking for a certain email address from my father. He broke his hip last month and he’s not doing too well. The doctors are worried about his recovery and I keep reading horror stories about how it shaves the years right off your life.
Before I even open the email, I brace for impact. “He’s doing much better…. expect a full recovery.” The words are uplifting. My father’s going to be okay. Still, there’s more to worry about. He’s living off of his monthly government checks and can barely afford the medical expenses. He doesn’t have insurance to cover it. So, of course, I’m the one stuck with the bill.
Work is stressful enough, but it goes by a bit faster than usual. I give my presentation, receive a round of applause, and I walk into my office to pour myself a little celebratory drink. We got the account. All seems good.
A knock on my door brings me out of my celebrating mood. My boss, Jake Hyde, opens the door with a smile. “Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting. That was a great presentation.”
“Thanks, Jake,” I smile. “Would you like a celebratory drink?”
“No, I’m okay. I actually just came in to check up on you,” he says, turning more serious. “Is everything okay at home?”
“What do you mean? Everything’s fine,” I say.
He smiles again and thinks hard to himself. “Shoot, there I go again. I’m not phrasing things correctly,” he says. “I just mean, you’ve got a ton on your plate. If you need anything, just let me know, okay?”
“Thank you, Jake.” I give a forced smile.
“Okay, I’ll talk to you later then,” he says, ducking through the door. “Fantastic presentation!”
I give him a thumbs-up and sit back in my chair. Do I have lot on my plate? I sure fucking do. Jake has been trying to fuck me since I started working here. He comes into my office at least twice a day to tell me how great I’ve been working, but the whole time he just stares at my breasts. At this point, it’s become a hassle. If Walker was still around, maybe I could get him to stop.
There’s no one that I want, not even Walker. There’s no man for me because all men are shit. At least, that’s how I’m feeling right now. I slump back in my chair and close my eyes, breathing as slow as I can. The doctor says I have high blood pressure and I need to “take it easy.”
Everyone has advice for us single mothers. They don’t realize that we’re just surviving through the day. I’m waiting for that sunlight to fade, so I can lie in bed, watching my favorite television show, while the light of my life plays with his action figures on the floor. Nobody said this was going to be easy. I knew that from the get-go. There are moments of joy, however. And I don’t regret that for an instant.
When I call Renata, however, I tell her one thing only. “I need a fucking drink.”
15
Walker
“Now that you’ve been back for a while, do you want the chance to make some real money?” he asks me, sitting back in his high leather chair. The way he’s looking at me, I can instantly tell that there’s a catch involved. His eyes say it all.
“Money?” I laugh. “More than I was making? I came back to settle the score. That’s it, Hawk. I thought I settled it.”
He leans forward, fingers intertwined. His gold rings reflect against the light. In the ashtray in front of me is a burning cigar, directly from Cuba, no doubt.
“Walker, Walker, Walker. I thought we were friends,” he smiles. “Don’t we have a strong history together? Why are you trying to run away so soon?”
“You made me who I am today, Hawk. You gave me the confidence to start my own business,” I say. “I came back to pay my respects.”
“Yes, but I didn’t give you the permission to do it behind my back,” he says. “You know I deserve a cut of that money. Besides, do you really want to keep courting to women all your life? You need to start thinking bigger. Long term. You won’t be young forever.”
He fails to understand what I had back in America. I had millions in worth. You don’t need anymore than that. I was going to invest in property. I was saving my money so I wouldn’t have to work in ten years. However, there’s something else on my mind. Something that’s worth more than a couple of crinkled up bills.
“I met someone,” I tell him. “I’d like to get the chance to get back to her.”
“A client?” He laughs a hearty laugh. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with one of those women. That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”
“Not a client. This was someone different. It was organic. It was real,” I tell him. I think about the last time I saw her. She was sound asleep and smiling against her motel pillow. She was happy and I knew I would be the one to end that happiness. I’d be the one to break her precious fucking heart. A cold burning sensation fills my chest and I start to get angry. “She was everything.”
“Stop lying to yourself. Money is everything to every man. Wealth is the single route to power and you know it,” he says. “Those politicians we help come to us for our services. They know we’re the best in the business. But once you left, we received less and less calls. They fancied your business skills, Walker. You see, you hurt me more than you know.”
“That wasn’t my intention,” I say. “Anyway, where are all the other lads? Who are these young kids?”
“I sent them to various locations. Thailand, America, Germany. You know how it goes. The older ones get more opportunities, like any business. Only, they did it the right way. You, my friend, were a snake in the grass.”
I’m not going home anytime soon. He’s got me where he wants me now. “Tell me the job,” I say. “And if I do it, can I go back home?”
“We’ll talk about that later,” he says, pleased with his level of control over me. “In the meantime, we’ll discuss business only. This job I’ve been mentioning is massive.”
“Bangers? Drugs? Women? What are you importing now?” I ask him.
“There’s another group in London. Dalston, actually. Can you fucking believe it? In fucking Dalston of all places. I need you and my boy Edward to shut them down.”
“Shut them down? We never used to play those games? Why now?” I ask him, feeling my stomach sink. Violence was never my thing. I never dealt in that arena. It’s almost as if he’s putting me on the job just to dig under my skin.
“The times are changing. Can’t you see? Look around you, Walker. Look how beautiful this block has become,” he says. I glance out the window and see that he’s right. In the daytime, it’s very clear that they’ve done some work to this area. Women are outside, walking their dogs. Kids are playing in a park nearby. Their laughter can be heard all around us, even in this dingy room.
“I love to help the people. You know that about me. But, of course, that comes with some difficulties. Other groups would like to meddle in our affairs. They pay off local police officers to come and hassle us. Just this week we had one officer ask a young worker what he was doing out on the corners. We can’t have that, Walker. Someone needs to pay,” he says.
“You’ll have a full out retaliation if you do that,” I tell him. “They won’t allow it. You need t
o strike a deal.”
“You were always keen to deals,” he laughs. “As for me, I’m a bit old fashioned. I prefer the blunt use of force. I’m not saying we send a message. That offer has come and gone. I’m saying we shut them down for good.”
“I’m not killing anybody,” I tell him. “I won’t be a part of that.”
“Edward will go over all the details with you. I won’t take no for an answer,” he says. The door suddenly opens and a young man with a shaved head and face tattoos comes in. “Edward! There you are, my boy. Come, come. Meet Walker. He’s a dear old friend.”
I stand up and shake the chap’s hand, knowing that I just made a deal with the devil. “Nice to meet you,” I say.
“Sure thing,” he smiles. “Come with me.”
I look back at Hawk, who motions me forward. There has to be a way back to Erica. There fucking has to be. I thought I’d come out here for a year tops. Here I am, six years later, and I’m trying to put the pieces of my life back together. I’m stuck in a flat with half the money I used to have. I don’t see an escape in sight.
Edward is mean looking. He looks like he’s ready to kill. When we head to the bar area of the house, he sits down and smiles, revealing a set of gold teeth. “So, we’re partners on this thing now?” he asks. “Hawk seems to look at you like your kin. Funny thing is, I’ve never heard about you.”
“Well, I’ve never heard of you either,” I say. “So, tell me. Who the fuck are you?”
I expect him to give me a head butt to the nose or a fist to the eye socket. Instead, he just keeps on smiling. I order a pint and keep my cool, despite wanting to go home. Normally, I’d be staring out the rainy window, counting the days until I could see Erica again. I must be fucking crazy. I met a woman and fell in love with her. Maybe it’s because of the distance. Maybe I just think I love her. Either way, I need to know. I need to see her again, to feel her in my arms.
“I’m Edward Johanson. That’s all you need to know,” he says. He grabs my pint and drinks it down, fully, in one gulp.
Fucking wanker, I think to myself. “Look here, mate. I don’t fucking like you. I don’t fucking like this place. So, if we’re going to get along, you best stay out of my way.” The English in me is starting to come out more.
“You’ll like me soon enough,” he says, cryptically.
“Oh? And why’s that?” I ask him. “Because I look at you right now and I hate your face. I hate your gold teeth. I hate your shitty tattoos. I hate what you stand for.”
“You’re looking for a fight. I can see that,” he smiles. “If that’s what you fancy, I can give you that.”
“You’d lose in a second,” I say. Maybe I am looking for a fight. It would be something exciting at least. I’m so fucking depressed about everything that I feel like this world needs some shaking up. If that means lying in a gutter, bleeding out, then so be it. I don’t give any fucks anymore.
“You’re longing for something unattainable,” he says. “Whatever it is, if you help me, I can help you. You can have what you want.”
The bartender slams another drink down in front of me and I half expect him to take it. Instead, he points to it and says, “This one is yours.” I drink it faster than him, feeling the carbonation hit just right on the back of my throat. I slam the glass down and order another.
“That’s the spirit,” he says.
“How can you help me if you don’t know what it is that I want?” I ask him.
He looks around to see if anybody is listening. When he feels comfortable, he whispers, “For the right price, I can help anyone. Just don’t go running that mouth of yours or you’ll get nothing. Hawk is smart. He knows you want to leave. He’ll be keeping a sharp eye on you, but he trusts me.”
“You’re his right hand man,” I nod, starting to understand the dynamic. He’s got my old job. He’s going to take from Hawk just like I did.
“Correct, but let’s stay to the subject at hand” he says. “Whatever it is that you want, you complete this job first. Got it?”
“I can do that. But I’m not firing any guns. I’m not killing anybody,” I tell him.
“All you have to do is hold the pistol in front of your face. This isn’t fucking America. This is England, remember? They’re not going to have many pistols lying around, but you need to be able to aim. We just have to scare them a little. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“I want to go back to America. I want to change my name. I want to disappear,” I tell him. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I just need to see her again.”
He nods and lights up a fag. He inhales sharply and taps his fist against the wood bar. “Alright. I’ll help you then. See you on Monday, eh?”
“Bright and fucking early,” I tell him.
Erica. I don’t know what you’re doing right now. I don’t even know if you’re still available. All I know is that I fell in love with you that night and I fucking hate myself for leaving. I hate myself for my past. I hate myself for throwing away your number. I thought it would help you stay safe and away from me. I was so wrong.
I think about you night and day. I dream of your lips, your legs, and that beautiful, warm face. I miss it all so much, but I’m coming home soon. Just hold on a little longer.
16
Erica
All I hear is moaning and sharp breathing. All I feel is clawing, touching, and hard clutching. His hands run down my stomach, moving in between my legs. My thighs close around his palm and he fingers me hard. “Walker,” I moan. His cock brushes against the bottom of my wetness. I’m yearning for him so fucking bad. I need him. “Fuck me,” I whisper.
I wake up in a sweat. I feel so flustered and Aidan is yelling, “Mom!” from his room.
I feel my head. It’s hot. Like, really fucking hot. I grab the thermometer from the bathroom and place it in my mouth. “Mom!” he screams. “Mom!!”
“I’m coming!” I yell, mouth full with the thermometer. Finally, it beeps. 103 degrees. God dammit. I can’t afford to be sick right now. I only get eight sick days a year and they don’t roll over.
“Mommy,” he cries, when I open his door. “I’m sick!”
This time, I believe him. I feel his forehead still, and it’s about as hot as I am. I take his temperature next and it’s only at 101, thank God. “Oh, baby,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry mommy didn’t believe you yesterday.” I’m the worst mother in the world. I have to be, right?
“I love you so much, sweetie,” I whisper, running my hands through his hair. There is no way we can do anything today. It’s four A.M. and we definitely have the flu.
“I don’t want to go to school,” he says. He’s shivering, even under the blankets.
“You don’t have to go to school, my love,” I tell him. “Mommy will make you chicken soup and you can watch movies all day.”
“Can I play the PlayStation?” he asks, smiling. Somehow kids can always feel better when they realize they don’t have to go to school for a day. I remember how that used to feel.
“You can play the PlayStation,” I laugh. “But you still have to do your homework.”
“Oh,” he groans. He coughs and looks at me with big, sad eyes.
“Fine,” I give in, as mothers sometimes have to. “You can do it tomorrow. But don’t get it into your head that you can stay on that thing all week.” His homework today consists of drawing one relevant political cartoon, as well as one math sheet. Still, it’s enough to drag a kid down.
“I love you, mom,” he says, hugging me. I give him one Tylenol and tell him to drink all of the water that I have. His fever should clear in a day or two.
“I love you too, baby,” I kiss his forehead and tuck him back in. “Just sleep for a little while, okay?”
“Okay,” he smiles. He’s so damn cute with those freckles on his nose. They’re the same freckles I have. He has the same eyes as his father and the same exact hair type. That bastard, Walker. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him. I
tiptoe to the doorway, so I can get myself some care, because right now I’m dying.
“Mom?” he suddenly asks.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Where’s Dad?” he asks me. His eyes dart to the floor, as if he’s asked something bad. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, Aidan! Don’t be sorry,” I say. I walk back over to the bed and try to come up with something to make him feel better. I decide that the truth is better than a lie. Someday he’ll figure out what happened on his own and he’ll resent me. I don’t want that to happen. “Sometimes mommies and daddies decide to make a baby. But sometimes, they can’t stay together.”
“They do if they love the family,” he sighs.
“No, Aidan. He does love you. He…” fuck this is hard. I’m on the verge of tears, trying to explain why his dad is a complete asshole. I can’t just tell him that he came inside me and left me for good, can I? Fuck this. Fuck everything. “His mommy was sick. He had to go back to London. I miss him too, sweetie.”
“We have each other though?” he asks. “Forever?”
“Oh, baby. We’ll always have each other. We’re family. You’ll always be my baby boy,” I say. “Always.”
“Sweet dreams, Mom,” he says, closing his eyes.
“Sweet dreams.” I walk out of the room and get myself some Tylenol. I take two and head back to bed, but I can’t fathom going to sleep right now, even if it is early in the morning. I text my boss Jake and tell him that I have the flu. I apologize profusely and then walk out into the kitchen. He’ll be okay with it. He loves me over there. I just don’t enjoy feeling like he has some sort of leverage on me.
Sometimes life gets easier for me. Sometimes it just floats on by. Lately, it feels like everything has been speeding up. Renata met someone so she’s hardly ever around. I don’t have any other friends anymore, besides her. Darrin took them all away. Of course, he’s having a baby in June with his new Asian bride. I hate to be a downer, but everything is just shit. Everything, except Aidan.