The After of Us (Judge Me Not Spin-off)

by S. R. Grey

  After I arrive home and settle in on the sofa with my laptop, I am pleasantly surprised to discover a reply.

  Finally!

  It’s only one email, but it’s more than enough, seeing as it’s a positive response. Apparently, the agent who replied to my query letter would love to take a look at Will’s full comic book manuscript.

  Holy crap!

  I jump up and do a little dance around my apartment. Yes, I’m overjoyed.

  I then print out the letter. Wow, I can’t wait to show it to Will.

  Will

  Following Emma’s departure on Friday night, to supposedly work on lesson plans for the upcoming school year, I bid Chase and Kay a good-night, and head over to my apartment above the garage with Lily.

  “Are you excited about starting school in a couple of weeks?” I ask my daughter as we walk across the gravel driveway, the late-summer locusts providing a lively chorus in the background.

  Lily is skipping, but she slows and takes my hand. “I am ec-cited, Daddy. Did you know Auntie Kay’s going to be my teacher?” She smiles up at me, and I find myself smiling right back at her.

  “Yeah, Lil, Auntie Kay told me the good news right before dinner.”

  “I can’t wait for school,” Lily says softly, her proclamation punctuated with a wide yawn.

  My daughter is clearly sleepy from playing for hours with her cousins.

  When she leans up against my leg as we walk, I ask her, “You want me to carry you, princess?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  By the time we’re up the wooden stairs and in the apartment, Lily is out. I lay her down gently on her bed.

  I finally partitioned the living room to create a proper bedroom for Lily. It isn’t huge, but she loves having her own space. The walls in the entire apartment are a neutral off-white color, including Lily’s new room, but Emma and I made the area more girly by adding dolls and stuffed animals, along with touches of Lily’s favorite colors, lavender and pink. Most of the throw pillows and bedding are those shades.

  I smile as I recall how it took me forever to find the comforter Lily saw online when I was showing her stuff we could buy for her room. Only problem was the site we were perusing listed the item as out-of-stock. Lily was so disappointed that I made it my personal mission to find the damn thing, no matter how long it took.

  I succeeded, too, and in only a few days’ time. After tracking the comforter down at an outlet ninety miles away, I drove out to the store and scooped it up, along with all the matching bedding. Wow, was Lily ever thrilled.

  And it’s that exact comforter, a frilly lavender affair with “Princess” spelled out in deep purple in the center, that I now gently pull up to Lily’s chin.

  “Sweet dreams, little Lil,” I say as I press a kiss to her forehead.

  Over on the side of the room that’s still a living room, I plop down on the sofa and turn on my laptop.

  “Huh.”

  There’s an email from my old recruiter, marked as urgent. I open it and discover he “needs” to speak with me “as soon as possible.”

  I take out my cell, find his number in my contacts, and hit Call.

  Answering on the second ring, the recruiter says excitedly, “Will. Glad you’re getting back to me so quickly. I take it you received my email?”

  “Yeah, I did. So, what’s up?”

  “Well, I may have an opportunity for you. It’s not with the same company as before, but rather a competitor of theirs. You’d still need to go to New York City. But let me say ahead of time, Will, that these people want you. Like, to the point they’re willing to go way up on the salary.”

  “How far up?” I ask, intrigued.

  “Twenty-five percent higher than what the other company was willing to pay.”

  “Wow.” I do some quick math calculations in my head. “That kind of money is unheard of for someone fresh out of school.”

  “What can I say?” he states. “They really, really want you.”

  But I have a life here, my gut urges me to tell this guy. And so does Lily. Wasn’t she just telling me how excited she is for school to start?

  “Shit.”

  Sensing my reticence, the recruiter says, “Listen, man, I know you’ve been landing some freelance advertising work—and that’s great and all—but you’re never going to make bank and get your name out there in any meaningful way unless you get in with one of these top firms. And, Will, my man, this is a golden opportunity with a top firm.”

  Don’t I know it?

  I don’t feel elated, like I probably should. Within the course of this five-minute call, I feel more like I’ve been thrust back to square one, with nothing certain in my life. I feel just like I did the day I arrived in Harmony Creek.

  A dozen things run through my mind…

  What about Lily starting school?

  What about Emma?

  What about my new life here with my brother and his wife and kids?

  And, in the back of my mind, since I know I haven’t given my graphic novel a chance to come to fruition, I think, What about my dream?

  Sighing, I ask the recruiter, “When would I need to decide?”

  I can’t believe you’re even considering this, an inner voice chastises.

  “It’s pretty much yours if you want it, but you need to meet the head of advertising before anything is deemed official. The guy you’ll need to see is flying up to Chicago this weekend, for some big conference that begins on Monday. So, if you’re really interested, Will, you need to drive up on Sunday and meet this guy by nightfall.”

  “So,” I say, calculating drive times, “I basically have until early Sunday morning to decide.”

  The recruiter sighs. “Look, I’ll tell him you’re coming, but, yeah, you could always back out by then. If you do, just know it’s the end of the line for any more chances like this one. Word will get out and that’ll be the end of any more sweet offers.”

  “Okay, man, I got it.”

  From there, it’s like some unseen clock begins ticking. And, shit, I feel like my time here in Harmony Creek is running out.

  Emma

  Will’s in a shitty mood on Saturday. We’re supposed to go out on a breakfast date, but he just called and is canceling on me. He claims he’s not feeling well.

  Yeah, right. I know he’s hiding something.

  When he tries to get off the phone, I blurt out, “What’s really going on here, Will?”

  “Nothing,” he says.

  “Hey, it’s me you’re talking to. You can share stuff with me. You know this, right?”

  He sighs, and I imagine him dragging his hand through his hair. “I know, Emma.” His voice is soft, almost forlorn, and I know for sure something’s up.

  But before I can press, Lily starts crying in the background, prompting Will to say in a rush, “I have to go.”

  And then he’s gone.

  I toss the phone aside and stare down at the letter I printed out, the emailed response from the agent who can’t wait to see Will’s work. I planned on showing it to him this morning at breakfast.

  Alas…

  Still, the agent needs an answer, and soon. Offers like these don’t hang around indefinitely.

  I close my eyes and fall back on my bed. What should I do?

  If I wait for Will it may be too late. Not to mention, he sure can be a moody bastard at times, like this morning. What if he’s feeling pissy and decides he doesn’t want to send the agent his work?

  I cannot let that happen.

  Jumping up, I grab my laptop from the dresser and scramble to find the agent’s email.

  There.

  I type in a professional-sounding reply, one that hopefully seems like it’s really from Will and I’m just acting as his representative. Like a publicist, or something. I then attach his complete comic book file.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I hit Send.

  I sure hope Will doesn’t hate me for doing this.

  Will

&n
bsp; First thing I do when I wake up on Saturday morning, which is unusually chilly for August, is tug on a pair of sweatpants and grab a long-sleeve T-shirt. Second thing I do, as I’m pulling the tee over my head, is head to Lily’s room to talk with her about our potential move.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” I sit down on the edge of her bed as she opens her eyes, noting how they’re as bright and green as her cute pajama set.

  Lily sits up and rubs those cute green eyes. “Daddy, what’s wrong?”

  Crap. Guess I can’t hide my apprehension from my child. I just know that my daughter is not going to be pumped for another potential move to New York City. She loves it here in Harmony Creek. She has her aunt and uncle and her cousins, whom she adores. Plus, kindergarten is starting soon.

  And then there’s Emma, whom I know Lily loves dearly.

  Shit. Emma. I’m supposed to meet her for breakfast today. Fuck. I need to cancel that shit. I can’t think clearly when I’m around her. My feelings for her cloud my judgment. But since I do love Emma, maybe I could talk her into moving to New York…eventually.

  For now, I just need to focus on what’s best for me and Lil.

  Truthfully, there aren’t enough freelance gigs coming in to make creating advertising campaigns my career. And my work with Chase will surely slow by winter. I could always fall back on my trust fund, but, like I’ve always maintained, I really want to make it on my own. My ultimate goal has always been to show all the doubters that I’m no longer a fuck-up.

  There’s always the comic book and the graphic novel idea.

  Yeah, right. Like anyone would even be interested. It’s high time I shelve that old dream.

  Lily tugs at the arm of my long-sleeved tee. “Daddy, are you listening?”

  She’s been chattering, and I have missed most of what she’s been saying, but I pretend I’ve heard every peep. “Yes, sweetie, I’m listening.”

  Her little face scrunches up in a scowl. She knows I’m full of it, plus she suspects something is wrong.

  Crossing her arms defiantly, she says, “I want to know why you wake me up.”

  Sighing, I say, “I need to ask you something, okay? It’s something about our future.”

  Apprehension clouds her face. She knows this drill.

  Lily has been bounced around enough times that I’m not the tiniest bit surprised when she says in a tiny, defeated voice, “I have to leave, don’t I?”

  I wrap my arms around her. “No, sweetheart, no, you don’t have to leave. At least, not all alone. I was thinking maybe we’d leave together.”

  My proposing I accompany her doesn’t placate Lil one bit. She pulls away and eyes me like I’m about to toss her world into turmoil—which, in a way, I guess I am. Still, I insist, “It won’t be that bad, Lily.”

  I’m trying to sound reassuring, but she’s not buying it. “I like it here, Daddy,” she says. “I don’t want to go away.”

  “I know. But we can come back and visit, okay?”

  Her eyes start to water. “I don’t want to go. You go. Let me stay with Auntie Kay and Uncle Chase. Or I go live with Mommy Emma. I love her so much, Daddy.”

  I want to say I love Emma too, but I’m currently too stunned that Lily just called her “Mommy Emma.” Usually it’s Miss Emma, never Mommy Emma.

  Wow. This has to stop.

  Why? I don’t know. But then again, maybe it’s because Lily’s words make me realize how much Emma has become a part of our lives. She is like a mom to Lily. And what a dick I’ll be if I accept this New York job offer and leave this good life in the dust, this new life I’ve been building with Emma.

  In a sharp tone, one brought on more by my own frustration and guilt, I snap, “Emma is not your mommy, Lily.”

  Bad move. All that does is make my daughter burst out in tears.

  “I don’t have any mommy,” she cries. “We’re leaving Mommy Emma, and my real mommy left me. My real mommy hates me. And Mommy Emma’s gonna hate me, too.”

  “That’s not true, Lily. Emma loves you, and your real mommy cares for you too, in her own weird way.”

  “No! My mommy hates me,” Lily screeches.

  I try to comfort my daughter, but she pushes me away. “And I hate you!” she yells.

  “Lily, don’t say that.”

  “I do, Daddy. I hate you. You make us go away, and I hate you, I hate you!”

  I let her yell and scream at me. I deserve it.

  Lily calms after a while, but she still won’t let me comfort her. Defeated, I head to the kitchen so I can make breakfast since I’m canceling with Emma.

  Speaking of which… I grab my cell.

  I try to keep the ensuing call short, but Emma suspects something. She asks me as much as I am about to hit End.

  “What’s really going on here, Will?”

  “Nothing,” I say.

  “Hey, it’s me you’re talking to. You can share stuff with me. You know this, right?”

  I sigh and rake my fingers through my hair. She’s right, but I can’t share this with her. Not now, not after breaking the news to Lily and with how poorly she took it.

  Nevertheless, I say, “I know, Emma.”

  Just then, Lily starts bawling, really loudly, and I say in a hurry, “I have to go.”

  I end the call, go to Lily. She pushes me away, again.

  “Fine,” I say. “I was about to make us some breakfast, anyway. Maybe after you eat you’ll feel better.”

  She ignores me.

  Fifteen minutes later, I bring in Lily’s breakfast on a small tray. “How ‘bout breakfast in bed for my little princess?”

  She flops on her stomach and says, “No,” as she buries her face in the pillows.

  “Lily.” I walk over to her bed and set the tray down gently on the edge. “Come on,” I prompt in a sing-song voice. “I made your favorite, a sunny-side-up egg.”

  No response.

  I shift my weight and fold my arms across my chest. “There’s orange juice, too,” I add. “Yum, yum.”

  Lil loves orange juice, and I guess I’m hoping my thoughtfulness to include a big glass of the stuff might soften her up.

  She rolls over on her back, but refuses to make eye contact. Instead, she stares up at the skylight in the ceiling. “I’m not going,” she states.

  “Lily,” I say on a sigh. “If I go, you have to go.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, no, no!” She starts kicking and thrashing about, and next thing I know the tray goes flying, leaving me covered in yolk and OJ.

  “Lily, what the f—” I catch myself, and go instead with a stern, “You’re going to clean this mess up, little miss.”

  Lily shoots me an expression that clearly states: Yeah, right.

  In the end, she wins. I give in and clean the mess myself.

  Fuck. I can’t discipline my daughter, I can’t make anyone happy, and I can’t do anything right.

  Later that morning, when Lily asks if she can go next door to play with Sarah, I say in a defeated tone, “Yeah, sure, okay.”

  Frankly, I’m mentally exhausted. It’s probably good for Lily to go play and forget about her rough morning, courtesy of my surprise announcement. However, I don’t take into account that my daughter is smart for five. She’s seen too much for her young age, and she’s not above doing whatever she has to in order to feel back in control.

  I realize all this ten minutes later when Chase shows up at my place.

  “What’s up, bro?” I ask as he walks in without knocking.

  I initially assume he’s here to ask me to run to town with him, or some such shit where we can hang and shoot the breeze.

  That assumption is blown out of the water when Chase levels me with a what-the-fuck stare and asks, “What’s this I hear about you moving?”

  Shit. Busted.

  Will

  I explain everything to Chase, and he sure as hell looks disappointed. Nonetheless, he doesn’t berate me o
r try to change my mind. I think he knows how hard this decision is for me.

  I don’t know if it’s him I’m trying to convince, or myself, when I say, “I just want what’s ultimately best for Lily.”

  Chase asks, “And you think monetary success fits that bill?”

  It’s not a snide comment; he seems to genuinely want to know.

  After thinking it over, I say, “I think part of being a good father is providing for your kid, yes. You do it, Chase. You work really hard to give your family a good life.”

  “I try,” he replies. “But don’t forget, I have Kay. She’s always there to pick up the slack when I’m not around. And vice versa. We’re a team.” He sighs. “It’s a lot tougher on your own.”

  His steely blue eyes pin me down, and I know he thinks Emma could be the one for me.

  But, how will I ever know if I leave?

  “Dude,” I say on a sigh. “Don’t do this to me. Not today, okay?”

  Chase scrubs his hand down his face. “Okay, Will, okay.” And then he asks, “So, what’s next?”

  I blow out a breath. “I have to meet with the head of advertising tomorrow. I guess I’ll leave in the morning. I gotta drive up to Chicago. This guy who wants to meet me will be there for a conference that starts Monday. The meeting’s just a formality, according to the recruiter. Guess the company just wants to make sure I don’t have three heads or something.”

  “When would you start?” Chase asks quietly.

  “Late next week, or the following. Though I’ll have to head up to New York and get settled in before that.”

  “Just like you were planning to do back in June?”

  “Yeah. Like then.”

  Shit, I feel like I’m going backwards here.

  “Does Mom still have that hotel room reserved for you?” Chase asks.

  I nod once. “Yeah, I never canceled it.”

  Realization dawns on my brother’s face. “You kept the room so she’d think you were in New York City, working at your new job, this whole time.”