by M.J. Kane
My vision blurred even further, but that didn’t stop me from kissing every inch of her exposed skin.
Her skin was a perfect shade of pink, and smelled of baby powder.
“Hi, little one,” I whispered, “It’s Momma.” As if she’d been waiting to hear my voice, her eyebrows came together the same time her eyes opened.
They were deep rich brown…just like Luke’s.
Holding her close to my heart, I slid the cap from her head; a soft tangle of blond curls, like mine, adorned her head. She was a spitting image of my baby pictures.
Then I realized there were no tubes. “Wasn’t she on oxygen?” I addressed the nurse, then turned to Antonio and Tiffany for confirmation.
“Yes, but not anymore,” she replied. “She’s a fighter, like her momma. The doctor performed a checkup before I brought her here. She’s got a clean bill of health, but we’ll still monitor her for a few more days.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, then unwrapped the swaddled blanket. Instinct guided my actions to do what every mother did: lay her on my lap and examine every inch of her skin. I counted ten fingers and toes, visually confirming the fact she was indeed perfect.
“What is her name?” Antonio asked, while snapping pictures with his phone.
I cradled my daughter and kissed her tiny nose. “Chloe. Chloe Michelle Rodgers.”
Chapter 22
Three months later…
“Why can’t I get this right?”
I threw down my pencil and tossed the costume sketch aside. The first meeting with the costume department of my new job was one week away. For the past week, I had taken notes from the information provided by the director. I had a week to create a theme for the cast’s wardrobe for the show’s opening sequence. My ideas would in turn be relayed to my team.
From there we would hit the ground running.
I read the script for the pilot and the first three episodes. Each scene was broken down by characters and action in the scene to determine what wardrobe would be needed. That included everything from shoes to nose rings.
Then came scouring the used wardrobe department for items or costumes that could be recycled before shopping for new ones.
I assisted my previous boss with this type of detail so this was nothing new. The only problem was being unfamiliar with the new set, studio, and members on my team.
Add the fact I no longer followed the vision of someone else…
The thought unnerved me.
Now it was my vision, my interpretation of what the show’s writers and producers wanted.
Everyone would be looking at me for direction. Talk about stress.
A high pitched cry came from the corner of my room. My attention immediately went to the crib.
How in the hell could I lead a team of experienced adults, when I couldn’t appease my three month old daughter?
Chloe bawled, her legs kicking and arms flailing. For the past hour, I did everything in my power to help her feel better, but nothing worked. A diaper rash irritated her beyond belief. The cream wasn’t working fast enough. The little relief it provided did nothing for the fact my daughter didn’t want to lay in the crib, she wanted to be in my arms. With my deadline approaching, I didn’t have time to pamper her.
Frustrated beyond belief, I yelled. Her cries mixed with my own.
I hated myself, failed my daughter, and realized I was not the person for the job…either of them.
Every decision made in the last year culminated into one big disaster.
I pulled myself together and walked over to the crib. My red faced baby now cried so much her voice was hoarse. Chloe calmed and turned her head to my breast the instant she was in my arms, wanting to suckle. It wasn’t from hunger because she’d been fed an hour ago. I slipped the pacifier into her mouth. Not wanting it, she spit it back out, her tiny lip trembling as she worked up another cry.
How in the world could I possibly balance being a mom, my new job, and anything else life threw my way?
It was too late to change my past. I could only deal with the repercussions of my decisions.
I refused to end up like my mother. I would not become the emotionally fucked up woman who withdrew from her daughter and gave up on life. Giving up on everything would mean leaving Chloe alone for the rest of her life.
No siblings. No mother. No father.
Luke, the arrogant asshole.
I didn’t inform him of his daughter’s birth until we were discharged from the hospital. With my medical issues up in the air, the last thing I needed was additional stress brought on by whatever his reaction would be. Since then, he’d only visited her twice.
Once he came with flowers. He appeared uncomfortable and didn’t stay long. The next time, he came with a box of diapers and gave me fifty dollars as if she was someone else’s baby.
Money meant nothing. Right now, Luke needed to be her father. Needless to say, the second visit had been as brief as the first.
We hadn’t talked since.
My daughter’s life was screwed up and it was my fault.
Unable to contain my emotions, my tears started mixing in with my baby’s.
“What is goin’ on in here?” Tiffany walked into the room, a towel wrapped around her damp head, wearing a robe. “I was in the shower when I heard you scream bloody murder. It’s a wonder the cops aren’t beatin’ down the door.”
I peered over my shoulder at my sister. Concern, pity, and fear were on her face. I recognized her expression. It was the one I used on momma when it was evident she was about to have one of her mental breakdowns.
“Oh God, I’ve turned into Momma!” I sobbed. “Take her, Tiffy! I’m no good!” I pushed my daughter into the arms of my competent sister, then climbed underneath the covers, unable to stop the heavy flow of tears.
“It’s okay, Chloe, Auntie Tiffy’s gotcha.”
My sister did the one thing I hadn’t been able to do in the past hour; comfort my daughter with a sense of confidence. Her voice grew distant as she left the room.
Alone, I contemplated my life’s decisions. The good, the bad…the ‘what if’s’ of my past.
I wiped my eyes. Maybe Luke had been right about it not being the right time to have a baby.
All of a sudden, his reasons for an abortion seemed valid. With the state of our relationship being the way it was, my daughter would grow up without a father. Her mother would be crazy, and there would be no family to rely on as she grew older.
My selfishness condemned my daughter to a life of disappointment, failure, and solitude.
What was wrong with me?
If I went through with Luke’s idea, I would have despised him for the rest of my life, and hated myself even more.
In all of the mistakes made in my past, Chloe was the one bright spot, the only good that came from it all.
A few minutes later, Tiffany knocked on my door, then entered without Chloe. She sat on my bed and patted my back through the covers. “Talk to me.”
“About what?” I sniffed.
“About what is really goin’ on with you,” she said. “You have your good days and your bad ones.” She pulled the covers from my face. “I’d understand if this was postpartum depression, believe me, I’ve researched it. This is something else.”
“I’m overwhelmed, that’s all. The new job, Chloe, Luke and his…” I couldn’t put my emotions into words for fear of using every curse word known to man.
“I wish there was somethin’ else I could do. Do you need me to chip in more around the house, watch Chloe more?”
I shook my head. “No, you already do enough, and I appreciate it. If you weren’t here, I’d probably be in the insane asylum by now. Believe me, my burden is mine alone, there’s nothin’ else you can do.”
Tiffany’s head cocked to the side as if studying me. “When was the last time you talked to Ebony or Yasmine?”
Good question. With a
ll of our lives on three different paths, it was hard for us to find the time for social visits. Even using Skype was hard. Facebook messages were random. Text messages seemed to be our main source of communication.
Ebony was engrossed in her job and husband. Yasmine had given birth to twins and struggled to care for them, run her business, and care for her man.
And here I was with a baby and no man. I honestly didn’t know where I fit in anymore. The times we got together, it became impossible to ignore their pitying expressions.
“Sometimes, people grow apart, no matter how long you’ve known each other.”
Tiffany rolled her eyes and stood. “Please, you guys are like the Three Musketeers. I wish I had friends like yours. Give them a call and set somethin’ up.”
“Where are you going?”
“To check on Chloe. I put her in the swing. You better take advantage of this quiet time and get some rest. And while you’re at it, find the common sense you keep drillin’ me about because I think you’ve finally lost it.” The door shut firmly behind her.
What the hell was she talking about? And when did my little sister start sounding like an adult?
At that moment I was too emotionally drained to care. I cowered beneath the covers and tried my best to sleep.
Chapter 23
“Antonio, I didn’t know it took this much work to run a shop.” Fernando scooted his chair away from my kitchen table and stretched.
I chuckled at my cousin’s expression as he ran a hand over his head as if mentally exhausted.
“Any successful business is a result of hard work, primo.” My attention was on the list of supplies sitting on the table. “Your father taught me that. Okay, what’s the next part number in the catalog?”
He read off the next long number while I keyed it into the spreadsheet, hit save, then sat back to study the screen. “Done.”
“Do you think we’ll win the judges’ favor and get the shop?”
“Sí, which is why we can’t wait to put our business plan together. The minute we get the keys back, we need to hit the ground running. With the shop being closed for more than four months, it’s causing us to lose customers. Our community needs us to reopen as soon as possible. But this time, it will be a grand re-opening. We need to let everyone know during our down time, we made renovations and improvements to better serve them. We will offer big time service at affordable prices.”
Fernando stood, stretched, then looked over my shoulder. “Why aren’t you looking to purchase brand new equipment? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”
“Yes, but we would be taking on additional expenses if we can’t buy it outright. If we bought everything, even at wholesale discount, we would end up raising prices to pay for it. We can get what we need through professional auctions selling equipment from shops going out of business or upgrading.” I stood and headed for the refrigerator. “And let’s face it; at this point, anything is an upgrade. Your father, God rest his soul, only made one major upgrade of equipment in twenty years. It’s time.” I reached for the carton of orange juice, opened it, then gulped the cold liquid to quench my dry mouth. “Don’t forget, we need to renovate the bathrooms.” Fernando made a face. “Still want to learn the business side of things?”
Fernando smirked, then walked down the hall to the bathroom.
The only thing left was to figure out how to make the restrooms and waiting area female-friendly. The day Kaitlyn came, she seemed very uncomfortable. As an employee, it suited my needs. As a business owner, customer satisfaction and comfort were key. She would be the perfect person to help from a woman’s point of view.
My phone rang just as I searched for her number. Tiffany’s name appeared on the screen.
“What’s wrong?” I blurted, forgoing the need to say hello. Tiffany never called. “Is Chloe okay?”
She sighed heavily. “Hey Antonio, Chloe’s fine. Kaity Lynn, on the other hand…”
My eyebrows pinched together. “What’s wrong with Kaity?”
“She’s not havin’ a good day, let’s put it that way. She needs you.”
I was stunned. “She needs me? For what?”
“I don’t know, but when you’re around, she seems to loosen up. Come work your magic.”
I still owed Fernando an hour of training, but something in Tiffany’s voice let me know Kaitlyn needed me now. “I’ll be there soon.”
****
“Kaity?” I rapped softly on her bedroom door. “Can I come in?”
No reply.
I twisted the knob and peered into the semi-dark room. Tiffany wasn’t kidding; she had retreated into gloom.
“Like it or not, I’m coming in.” I closed the door behind me, ran my hand along the wall until it connected with the light switch.
“Go away.” Her voice was muffled beneath the covers.
“Not about to happen.” I kneeled by the side of the bed.
“At least turn out the damn light.”
I spied the lamp on the nightstand. “Compromise.” The lights dim, my focus went to the blond hair peeking out from the edge of the covers. “Talk to me, chica.”
She sniffed. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.” I pulled the covers from her face. Kaitlyn’s eyes were red and her nose was swollen from crying.
“Are you a single mom with ragin’ hormones, a newborn daughter, and an ex-boyfriend who hates her guts?”
“No.”
“Exactly. Go away.” She snatched the covers to hide beneath them again.
I was stronger, so she didn’t win. “What I am is a friend of a single mom with raging hormones and a new born. Who gives a damn about the ex? The pendejo doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Everything wasn’t just about Chloe.
“A what?” Kaitlyn wiped her cheeks.
“Asshole.”
“Oh…yeah, that he is.” She covered her face with her hands. “But that other stuff…you don’t have to be nice to make me feel better.”
“I’m not being nice, Kaity, just honest.”
She wiped her eyes. “Antonio, why do you care?”
I angled my head to study her.
She sniffed, sat up, and pulled the covers to her chest. “It’s just…since the day we met, you’ve done nothin’ but be nice. You took me to pick up my sister, dang near fixed my car for free, help care for my baby…,” she threw her hands up in the air. “You saved my life and Chloe’s…twice!” Fresh tears fell. “What have I done for you? Nothin’ but be a pain in your ass.”
I chuckled. “You are not a pain, you’re a breath of fresh air. Somehow you always find a way to put a smile on my face.”
“Okay, so what, I make you laugh? Great…but I still don’t get it. You could have any woman you lay eyes on. But instead of dating women with no children, you hang around with the white girl with baby daddy issues. What’s wrong with you?”
The words burned the back of my throat. I’m in love with you.
She wasn’t ready for that type of honesty. I kept my gaze steady and my feelings inside.
“There’s nothing wrong with me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “If you’re gay, just admit it, I’m okay with that.”
My lips thinned. “Believe me Kaity, I am not gay.” I reached out to touch her face. “Why can’t you understand I like being with you?”
Even though her eyes were swollen, she rolled them. “Liar.”
“It’s true. Life has been unfair to you, from your parents to your ex. Believe it or not, there are more people who care about you than you realize. You just have to open your eyes to see what’s in front of you.”
To see me.
Kaitlyn breathed deep. “I wanna believe you, Antonio, but all I see in the mirror is my mother. Depressed, stressed, and incapable of showin’ my daughter the love she needs. This stupid cycle is startin’ again.” More tears fell. “Oh God, it’s my mother’s life, minus Luke livin’
in the next room tellin’ me he wished Chloe were a boy! At least my father softened once my brothers were born.” She shook her head. “Luke barely wants to acknowledge her.” She huffed. “You know what sucks the most? Chloe will never have brothers or sisters.”
“Why would you say that?”
Her head fell back in mock laughter. “Babies don’t get here on their own, it requires sex. I haven’t had sex in, oh God, I don’t even want to go there. Besides, who wants to deal with my bag of issues? Medical, mental, and baby on board…”
My jaw tightened. I knew everything she was dealing with, had known for the past seven months. When would she realize what I offered?
I forced myself to remember her life was full of distractions and her reasoning as to why she didn’t deserve love left her blind.
“Don’t ever say that again.” My voice was hard enough it got her attention. Her eyes widened. “Don’t let what happened with Luke cause you to question who you are or what you have to offer a man. The problem is his, not yours.”
“No, it’s my ─”
My body moved of its own volition as I pushed from the floor to meet her mouth with mine before she completed the sentence. Her body stiffened with shock, but became pliant in seconds.
Her lips were soft…perfect. Every part of me wanted to climb onto the bed, pull her in my arms, and kiss her for as long as it took for her to lose her self-doubt.
I forced myself to pull away and open my eyes. The sight of her puckered pink lips called for more.
I licked my lips and tasted the salt from her tears.
“Wow…,” she opened her eyes. “That was …unexpected.”
Every part of me wanted to kiss her again, but now was not the time. I came to check on her, not have a make out session, especially when neither of us expressed the desire to take our relationship to another level.
It was time to put distance between us.
“You need some rest and you’re stressed about work,” I indicated the sketch pad on the floor. “What else is going on?” I busied myself by picking it up and laying it on her dresser.