Waiting for Autumn

by DeRouen, J. A.

  “I’ll leave right now. I can be there in ten,” I say, judging the fastest route to Aria’s school at this time of day.

  “Oh God, thank you so much. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I’m used to having Aunt D and Brady—”

  “Now you have me. I’ll take care of everything until you can get home.” I pull my keys out of my pocket and walk back into the apartment. “Is there some kind of approved list I need to be on to pick her up?”

  “Um, yeah. I added you on the first day of school,” she admits.

  And I grin.

  After promises to fill Marge in later and a few well-placed jabs from Lexi, I hop in the car and take off across town.

  * * *

  “Hey,” Aria mumbles as she slides off the chair and walks toward me. “I frew up.”

  “I heard.” I run a hand over her hair in comfort while looking for the principal or secretary … or basically anyone who can give us the go-ahead to leave.

  “Two times.”

  “That’s awful.”

  She nods.

  “Want to go home?”

  She nods again, and her head flops to the side, resting on my thigh.

  “Hi, can I help you?”

  I startle at the proximity of the voice because I never heard anyone approach, but a five-foot-nothing woman with a mess of gray hair knotted on top of her head is smiling across the counter from me.

  “Yes, I’m here to check out Aria…” I stumble over the last name, not knowing if it’s Norris or Kelly. Hoping that it’s Kelly. Knowing my hopes will most probably be dashed.

  “Of course. You must be Aria’s father. Ms. Norris told us to be expecting you.”

  I stiffen at her words, and the hand that had been soothing Aria’s head comes to a standstill. Over the last few weeks, I’ve imagined hundreds of ways of telling Aria who I am. This particular scenario never crossed my mind.

  I look down and find Aria staring at me, face scrunched in confusion. Her lips twitch imperceptibly, and her arm snakes around my leg and squeezes. She sucks in a deep breath, and her shoulders quake with the effort.

  Then she bends at the waist and pukes all over my shoes.

  Chapter 26

  Autumn

  Present Day

  Haven, LA

  I turn off the ignition, and my forehead falls to the steering wheel. This day has been fast-approaching, but I figured we had a little more time. Seb’s text blew that thought right out of my head.

  Seb: Not positive, but I think the dad’s out of the bag.

  After four years with Aria, I wish I could say I know exactly how she’ll react. But the truth is she’s a shocking little thing. I never know what she will think, say, or do at any given moment. She’s a mixed bag, really. That’s one of the best parts of her … most of the time. At this moment, it’s got me freaked the hell out.

  There are worse things. As I gather my purse and the six-pack of Gatorade I grabbed on my way over here, I remind myself there are worse things than my daughter finding out she has a father and he’s aching to love her. Wishing she would love him.

  Actually, there is nothing better than exactly that.

  I shake off the nervous energy that’s plagued me since I made the move to Haven and let the wonderful warmth settle in my chest. Since my talk with Brady, I’ve been making a concerted effort to let the past go and let people in. At least where Aria is concerned.

  When it comes to Sebastian and me? That’s a completely different story. What we are to each other … what we’ve done to each other … “let the past go” is too flippant and simple to deal with the scars we’ve inflicted.

  We were two separate trees nurtured together in the same backyard. The roots have crossed and intertwined, looped about and driven deep into the earth. Even fused together in some places, like toes touching under the covers. It’s not so easy to extricate your life from someone else’s. It’s impossible to deny the pain when one of those trees is ripped from the ground.

  And it’s unimaginable to think two lives can be transplanted and reinvigorated after that amount of carnage.

  But one look at the perfect little girl we created together, with love, and hope undoubtedly creeps its way into the roots and crevices.

  “Get it together, Autumn. You’re not a freaking teenager anymore,” I whisper as I hurry up the sidewalk.

  I’ve never seen the inside of Seb’s house, but last week when Aria stayed over, an incognito drive-by on a takeout run gave me a sneak peek from the road. Don’t judge. When weighing the importance of propriety with sheer curiosity, there’s really no contest.

  And for the record, his house is … I don’t know what it is. Surprising? Adorable? I mean, Sebastian Kelly, the boy who used to throw lizards and go skinny-dipping now has a flower bed. With actual blooming flowers in it. And wind chimes hanging from the front porch. It’s crazy.

  And all kinds of cute.

  Elton John filters through the door as I knock, followed by the telltale squeal of a little girl. A little girl who doesn’t sound very sick.

  The door opens to reveal a floppy haired Isaac with Aria wrapped around him like a spider monkey. At second glance, Aria’s wearing—

  “What are you wearing, poppet? And how do you feel?” I brush her curls back and press my lips to her forehead. “No fever …”

  “I feel better, Momma. Isaac is teaching me to dance,” she says, tucking her head in the crook of his neck and batting her eyelashes.

  He shrugs. “More like swaying.”

  “Come on in,” Seb calls out from beyond the living room. “She’s wearing the smallest T-shirt we’ve got, and boxers cinched together with a clothespin. We had to improvise.”

  I step inside and shut the door, then reach my arms out to Aria. She doesn’t take the bait.

  “Well,” I say, surprised as hell.

  Isaac shrugs again.

  “We can still go to Aunt D’s, Momma, even though I’m sick?” She says “aunt” like “ain’t,” and it never fails to bring a smile to my face.

  “We’ll have to see how you’re feeling later this week. We don’t want to give her a virus.”

  She lifts her head to look at Isaac. “I’m going to my Aunt D’s to spend the night. My Nana and Poppo will be there, too.”

  “No Nana and Poppo this time, poppet. They had to change plans,” I explain, shooting a glance in Seb’s direction.

  Aria frowns, and Seb looks like he wants me to explain, but thankfully keeps quiet on the subject. I’m glad because that conversation is destined to end badly.

  “I just put her clothes in the dryer. Things got, shall we say, messy.” Seb’s eyes grow wide at the admission, and I can imagine how messy things got. Aria’s got the aim of a blind sniper when’s she sick. She couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.

  “I frew up a lot. My clothes were yucky.” She points across the living room to Seb in the kitchen. “His shoes were yucky.”

  “Oh no,” I whisper, and cover my mouth.

  “We had to frow those shoes away. They stunk bad,” she explains, nodding her head and frowning. “His socks, too.”

  “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. I’ll replace them, I promise.” He’s shaking his head before I even finish talking. I meet him in the kitchen, ready to argue the point.

  “You’re not replacing anything.” He looks over my shoulder, presumably checking for little ears. “I feel like I was christened into the family. I chucked those shoes in the dumpster with a smile on my face. How old were you when Aria first peed or pooped or spit up on you?”

  I laugh. “We hadn’t left the hospital yet.”

  “Exactly. So, no shoes. Just welcome me to the family.”

  “Welcome to the family, Seb,” I whisper, trying with all my might to keep that warm feeling in my chest from settling smack dab in the middle of my heart. I shake it away, put a bookmark in it to obsess over later, and change the subject. “Did she uh … did she say anything about … you know
?”

  Realization dawns in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “Nah, not a word. The secretary at school mentioned d-a-d, but Aria was ten seconds from spewing her guts up. She may have been in a vomit-induced haze.”

  “Well, that’s …” I search my brain for the right word while I sneak a peak at my cooing daughter. “Disgusting. Yep, that’s disgusting.”

  “Disgusting, yes, but timely all the same. May have bought us more time, right?”

  “Right.” I shrug and give him a tentative smile.

  I should be relieved, but instead, my insides feel like a deflated balloon. It’s as if we’re standing at the starting line, poised and ready to start the race. Up until today, I’ve been the one holding the starting revolver. Now, I’m not sure I want the job anymore.

  “We’re getting good at this, right?” he asks with a grin. “You and me? I was afraid this would be awkward, but it’s not. I mean, you don’t think it’s awkward, do you?”

  “No, not at all,” I say with a half nod, half shake of my head. “Nope.”

  But it is. Awkward, I mean.

  Part of me knows Sebastian like he’s my favorite novel I’ve read until the pages are smudged and worn. But then again, years have changed the both of us, and those new parts are crisp pages I’ve never seen before, and I have no idea what comes next. That can be both frightening and exciting at the same time. It can also make for uncomfortable and difficult situations.

  But Sebastian says awkward like it’s a bad word, and I don’t believe it is.

  Awkward isn’t alone, trying to find the words to tell my parents I’m pregnant.

  Awkward isn’t afraid, praying I’m not doing this parenting gig all wrong.

  Come to think of it, I look forward to awkward these days.

  Because awkward is starting to look like the makings of a family.

  Seb’s eyes brighten, and he wipes his hands on his jeans. “Oh, I almost forgot, I have something for you.”

  He places a bag in front of me and pulls out a cell phone. Shiny, new, and way more expensive than what I can swing right now.

  I shake my head and take a step back, but he doesn’t give me the chance to protest. “It’s something you need, and I want to give it to you. It’s not a big deal, so let’s not make it one.”

  “I can’t accept it.”

  He slides the box open and pops the phone out of the casing. “You can keep your plan with this new phone or I can just add you to my plan. I’ve got unlimited everything, so no worries there.”

  “Wait … what? No, I told you I can’t—”

  “Autumn, I’ve got two questions for you, and then we’re done with this. First, what percentage battery do you have on your phone right now?” He crosses his arms and waits. When I don’t react, he waves me on.

  I pull my phone out of my purse, roll my eyes, and mutter under my breath.

  “What was that? I couldn’t hear you?” He taunts, cupping his hand to his ear.

  “Nine.”

  “Percent?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right, okay. So, you need a new phone.” He raises his hand and shows me two fingers, before whispering, “Second thing, how many years of child support do I owe you?”

  “Stop.”

  “No.”

  “Sebastian—”

  “Autumn, I wish I could go back in time and be there for you, for her, but I can’t. But I need to be clear about this, so we don’t misunderstand each other going forward. I’m going to take care of Aria, which means I’m going to take care of you. And you’re going to have to let me.” Seb releases a gigantic breath and waits for me to respond.

  “Just let me do my job, okay? That’s how we make this right. That’s how you can help me move forward.”

  I press my lips together and nod.

  “I can do that. Thank you.”

  “No thanks necessary,” he says as the music changes behind us.

  “Isn’t She Lovely” by Stevie Wonder.

  Aria lets out a soft giggle, and Isaac replaces the old record into its sleeve.

  “A record player? I’m impressed.”

  I walk over to the entertainment center and peek at the stack of albums sitting next to the player.

  Rod Stewart, Etta James, Patsy Cline.

  “Yeah, there’s a great record store down the street from the shop. The guy who owns it is a piece of work. Strange, but really cool. He reads people’s vibes or some shit and picks music for them. It’s uncanny how right he gets it. It’s like he knows the soundtrack to everyone’s life.” Seb pulls a pot off the stove and pours noodles into a strainer. “I made spaghetti for dinner if you’re hungry. I mean, spaghetti for us. Just toast for Aria until we figure out if the worst has passed. Her clothes won’t be dry for a bit longer, anyway.”

  “Okay,” I say distractedly, still flipping through the albums. Sam Cooke, Rolling Stones. I gesture to the records in my hand. “So, is this the soundtrack of your life? Is that why you have them?”

  “I actually pulled those out for Aria. I’m hoping one day, decades from now, she’ll hear one of these songs and remember that one time when she danced with her cousin and puked on her dad’s shoes. I hope she hears ‘Tiny Dancer’ on the radio and knows how special she is.” He shrugs as he grabs plates down from the cabinets.

  Awe. There’s no other word to describe how I feel right now. At this moment, I’m in complete awe of him.

  The relationship between a parent and a child is so complex and textured. It’s layer after layer of words, emotions, memories, and secrets. Words whispered, frustrations shouted, and even those things that are given no voice at all. Some are sweet, like wisps of cotton candy while others are stubborn and unwavering. All of it adds up to a magnificent kind of love, the whole being infinitesimally more valuable than the sum of its parts.

  And Sebastian Kelly is wrapping his daughter in freshly spun sugar.

  I smirk at the thought of these two clashing like battering rams. That particular layer will be a battle for the ages, I’m sure.

  This kind of love and dedication can’t be taught from a parenting book, and yes, I spotted a stack of them on the coffee table when I arrived. It comes from within. It takes shape over time.

  It’s the difference between a father and a daddy.

  “Look at this pitcher,” Aria interrupts as she shoves my new phone at Sebastian. “It’s the fish we caught. ‘Member that one time?”

  Sebastian crouches down to her level and looks at the blank screen and smiles. My girl has such a wild imagination.

  “I remember. It was a really big fish.”

  Aria chuckles and brushes her curls out of her face. “You said I couldn’t do it, but I did. I did it. ‘Member?”

  “Yes,” he whispers, head bent over the phone and his daughter.

  “Next time, can we go swimming instead?”

  “Of course. I’ll take you swimming whenever you want.”

  She drops the phone to her side and meets his gaze. She narrows her eyes and purses her lips. “Do you have a pool?”

  “No, I don’t.” His words are soft and even but dripping with intent. “But I’ll find one. For you.”

  She smiles and hands the phone over to him before skipping across the room. I watch the man she’s left in her wake and wonder, if Seb had never left town, if he knew his daughter from the start, how would things be different now? I watch him, now sporting a beard much thicker than the few measly whiskers from his teenage years and his muscles corded and lean—he’s fully grown into the man he was meant to become. When I look at present-day Sebastian, it isn’t very hard to imagine how things would be at all.

  Probably a lot like this …

  The thought startles me, sneaks into my mind, and grabs center stage with absolutely no warning. The thought leaves me unsettled, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

  Aria jumps up next to Isaac on the sofa, completely oblivious to her father, kneeling frozen on the floor right
where she left him.

  All the while, Seb is completely oblivious of me, present-day Autumn seeing him in a completely different way.

  And I’m not positive, but I think Aria just ripped the starting revolver from my hand and pulled the trigger.

  The race is on.

  Chapter 27

  Autumn

  Present Day

  Providence, LA

  “Hello?” I call out after a knock on the screen door with no answer. Aria sneaks around me and darts into the house like a shot. “Aria, wait a minute!”

  “She’s on the swing. I hear it. Aunt D!”

  The frantic stomping of little girl feet mixes with the rhythmic creaking of chain links, and I know she’s right. The patch of concrete underneath that porch swing gets more traffic than anywhere else in the town of Providence.

  I can sum up Aunt Dorothy with a few words. Swing. Coffee. Cards. All the things she loves.

  And her great-niece, of course. Aria sits proudly on the top of that list, crown firmly in place.

  I hear the squeal before I make it to the sliding door, and the rhythm of the chains goes wonky.

  Aria.

  “Hold on, little girl, you’ll throw Chessy and me right off this swing. And believe me, if this big butt hits that little ground, there will be an earthquake.”

  Chessy, her twenty-pound tabby cat. Another thing to add to her list of loves. A healthy diet of freeze-dried shrimp and table food means there’s a whole lot of Chessy to love.

  “Sorry, we’re a little late. We made a stop by the office to check on West and the girls.” I’ll always have a special place in my heart for West. He taught me so much when I interned at his practice. “His wife’s pregnant.”

  “Huh, about time. They’ll make pretty babies.”

  I nod because it’s true. They’ll be absolutely gorgeous.

  Aunt D howls as Aria puts her neck in a death grip of a hold and peppers kisses all over the side of her face. The cat lets out a low growl from the pit of that cavernous belly. Aria is undeterred.