Trying to lighten the mood, I pull out a photo of Lily and place it over his heart. “That’s Lily. Your niece.” My heart swells with pride as I share with him, my one true love. “I should’ve pushed harder for you to meet her, it would’ve been love at first sight.”
It was for me.
“She would have you wrapped around her little finger, chasing after her, making sure she’s happy and safe. The exact same way you used to go above and beyond for me.” I stare at the image of Lily, a bright spot amongst the drab hospital sheets. I take the strength I need from her angelic face as I keep talking. “She wasn’t planned. Either was Bianca, her mum. It was whirlwind at best, but I was so happy, and they were more than enough.”
My voice wavers as I talk about Bianca, shocking myself with the random tears as I explain how she gave me life and took it away all at the same time. I almost wish he could ask me if I was okay. To be my older brother one more time.
“I gave up drugs not long after moving to Melbourne. I didn’t really have a choice since I was no longer my own boss, and nobody really wants to hire someone who’s high all the time. And when we found out Lily was coming, Bianca made me give up smoking. If I thought the drugs were rough, the smoking was so much harder.”
The words alone make me feel like lighting up a cigarette, the habit returning with a vengeance, since being back here.
“I run a security company now, can you believe that? It was the only job I could get with no qualifications when I arrived in Melbourne. You just had to be decent sized, and look fucking mean. That’s me in a nutshell, don’t you think?”
I laugh at my own joke, but the oxygen machine mocks me.
Who cares what it looks like, Jay. He’s listening.
“The guy I worked for became a good friend of mine, and he wanted out. So, I offered to buy it from him. It’s all above board. Jay fucking Evans paying actual taxes.”
A light cough from the door interrupts me. It’s Gina one of the food delivery assistants. “Ah, Mr. Evans would you like some lunch?”
The hospital staff are used to seeing me here, and often offer Max and I lunch that would be Leroy’s if he could eat. While it’s expected that they skip the room, some of the women and men here show unrivalled compassion and empathy. And while his situation is dire, there is nothing negative I could ever say about their treatment of him.
“No, thank you. I might leave here soon, and spoil myself with some McDonald’s,” I tease, knowing how much she riles up whenever Max brings it in.
“That stuff is worse than this shit.”
I laugh at her disgust. “I’m just pulling your leg. I’m going to get going, and eat some leftovers from last night’s dinner.”
“That woman of yours cook for you?”
“Yeah,” I say dismissively. “She made pasta.”
I never correct anyone when they assume Max and I are together. I don’t understand how they come to that conclusion, and it also takes up too much energy to set them straight. The only person I wanted to shout and explain it to, was the only person who didn’t want to hear it.
Sasha pops up in my thoughts on a regular rotation these days, somehow everything points back to her. I look up at Leroy and laugh. If there were ever two people in the world that hated each other more, it was her and him.
When she was with us at our house, she was mouthy and opinionated. A side of her that only I had the pleasure of seeing. Leroy was never down with people who called him out on his shit. Especially girls. Which is why the mess Max got herself in with him makes so much sense.
I wonder what he would say if he knew I bumped into Sasha. If he knew how badly, after all these years I wanted to keep bumping into her.
Shaking my head, I will away my thoughts of Sasha and glance back down at Leroy’s body. It dawns on me, like an anvil, crushing my chest. Apart from Lily, he’s the only living family I have left.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come back when Dad died. I just couldn’t…” I bury my head in my hands, muffling my voice. “I couldn’t come back here and pretend to care about a man who never fucking cared about me. He didn’t deserve a goodbye, especially not when he never once asked where the fuck I was after I left.”
Fuck, I need a cigarette.
I blow out a long breath of air, composing myself. My father, even in death pushing all the right fucking buttons. “I will always respect your choice to be loyal to him, but I could never understand it.”
I stare at his body, through my anger, imploring him to wake up and fucking talk to me. So, I can hear his justifications or feel his disappointment. For what feels like the millionth time, I push through the ache in my chest, knowing those responses aren’t coming.
“I know my excuses probably sound like shit to you, I mean you lived there. You fucking knew how it was. But maybe if you just listened to me when I said life could be better, you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be almost fucking dead.”
It’s brutal, but it’s true, and now I’m in pieces. Shredded from the inside, falling apart on the out.
“I fucking miss you,” I say through tears.
Random thoughts from our childhood would pop into my mind while I was away, and it would take me days to get over the pain. Like a missing limb, there was always a phantom throbbing that lingered when I thought of the brother I remembered versus the man he became.
“I’m so sorry I let you down.” I cry ’til my tears dry up and until my voice is hoarse, my repeated apologies, all that’s left to say.
I sit there for God knows how long, mourning every milestone, every struggle, every smile, every tear. I lay it all at my older brother’s bedside wishing for a lifetime of second chances that will never come.
Eventually, I manage to compose myself enough to know my time here, in this hospital is done. I put Lily’s picture back in my pocket, take hold of Leroy’s hand in mine and offer a parting kiss on his forehead.
“I love you, bro.”
Walking down the sterile, and silent hallway, my boots squeak against the linoleum with every heavy step. I’ll never know what brought me to him only hours ago, but I can feel the shift. As if it was a necessity, that only the universe knew I needed, I feel his presence, guiding me into the next phase.
The one where I really will be all alone.
Switching off my car, I step out and shuffle up the driveway. Standing on the porch, I have my last smoke for the day. I’ve tried to quit. A million times. When we had Lily, it was my longest time without them, but since that dreaded phone call, they’ve become part of my daily routine.
Now, I’m like a young kid, scared of getting caught in the habit. I’m constantly wiping my hands with sanitiser, and chewing every fucking flavour of gum to rid myself of the stench before I go anywhere near Lily.
I flick the butt off into the neighbour’s yard and head inside. With the intention to apologise to Max, I’m interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket. A number I don't recognise flashes on the screen. Not an uncommon occurrence since I use my phone for work, I answer nonchalantly.
“Hello, Jay Evans speaking.”
“Jay.” There’s a worrying pause. “It’s Sasha.” There's only one reason she would call me. My heart stops beating, and my lungs stop working. I'm frozen in fear.
In any other circumstances the phone call would be welcomed, but knowing who she is to Lily and the time of day it is, my mind explodes with horrid scenarios.
“Is Lily okay?”
“She’s fine,” she says soothingly. “It’s just protocol to call the parents when a child hurts themselves. We’ve written up an accident report for you to take home upon pick up.”
The only words that I hear are child and hurt. I'm turning on my heels and jumping back in my car before she's even finished explaining what happened.
“But since she hit her head,” she continues. “I didn’t want to wait ’til later this afternoon.”
“She hit her head? Does she need stitches?” The
panic rises with every question, and I do nothing to mask it. “Is she bleeding?”
“Jay,” she says a little more forcefully. “Everything is okay. I promise. There’s a solid sized lump on the back of her head, but she’s playing and laughing like normal. We put an ice pack on it, and we’ve made sure she hasn’t gone down for a nap.”
I look at the digital display clock in the car. “I’m coming to get her. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“I figured you’d say that. She’ll be excited to see you.”
“Sasha.” The silence stretches as my heart rate and breathing finally return to normal. “Thank you for calling.”
“I’m just doing my job.”
The shut down is obvious, but it doesn’t change how grateful I am. Knowing Sasha’s there with Lily until I arrive, eases my worry.
I punch in the code for the door, and in three large strides, I’m watching Lily laugh in Sasha’s lap. Sucking on a raspberry ice block, her giggles fill up the room as Sasha animatedly reads her a book.
While the rest of the kids seem to be outside enjoying the afternoon sun, I take inventory of the two of them enjoying each others company. It’s a picture of effortless beauty, and my chest tightens. It’s not often I let myself think about Lily and her mother, and what their relationship would be like if she was still around. But watching Lily interact with such comfort and familiarity has me mourning things my daughter and I will never get to experience.
I thought I would be able to give Lily the life I never had, more importantly, a mother. Even if the circumstances aren’t the same, I don’t ever want her to endure the loss I felt. The loneliness, and the endless comparisons to perfect families. Those feelings follow you like a dark shadow you can never rid yourself of. That’s not the life I’m working towards for her. I don’t ever want to be responsible for any negativity in her life. I will live my life shielding her from all of that.
Every day I try to show her I love her. Fuelled by the fear of fucking up, I am overbearing, strict, and when it comes to Lily, her happiness is non-negotiable. Ever. And I hope whenever the day comes that I say my last words and take my last breath she knows, with every fibre of her being that she was loved.
Sasha notices me, and a sympathetic smile graces her lips. It’s not the disdain and discomfort from the other day, so I bask in it. She whispers in Lily’s ear, and Lily’s baby blues find mine. She bounces off Sasha and literally flies into my open arms.
“Daddy’s here,” she squeals.
I hold her close, nuzzling my nose into her neck. I take a deep breath, finding relief in her soft, strawberry-scented skin.
Breaking our connection, I move my head back enough that we're face to face. “Someone told me you hurt yourself, are you okay?”
Her hand rushes to the back of her head as her lips turn into a frown. “Ouchies?” I ask. “Ouchies,” she repeats.
“Daddy kiss it better?”
She gives me a quick nod, so I place her down on the floor and crouch in front of her. With her hand still holding her head, she turns so her back faces me. Gently, I move her arm and let it drop by her side. I hold her shoulders and kiss the lump.
“All better,” I coo. I catch Sasha staring at us from the corner of my eye, and I do my best not to stare back. The moment is centred around Lily’s wellbeing, but now that my eyes are on her and I can see she's okay, Sasha returns to being front and centre.
This isn’t like the first time we saw each other. The air is lighter, and the tension has been replaced with some sort of mutual understanding.
With Lily in tow, I move towards her. The closer I get, the more anxious she becomes. She’s wringing her hands together, while biting at the corner of her mouth, her worry painfully obvious. Hopefully my presence can ease whatever nervousness she’s feeling.
“Thanks again,” I say as I reach her.
Her gaze darts between Lily and I. “She’s a sweetheart.”
“She really is.” Pride surges through me as I turn to see Lily smiling at nothing in particular. “She seems okay?” It comes out as both an observation and a question.
Sasha leans forward and tucks Lily’s wayward curls behind her ear. “She took it like a champ.”
Staring at one another, both of us wait for the next move to appear from thin air. Knowing it’s impossible, I bite the bullet. “Can we talk?”
“Let me get her bag, and the accident report.” If she thinks her deflection is going to deter me, she’s wrong. I watch her walk away, getting the perfect view of her behind.
Taking our history out of the equation, she’s the first woman to catch my eye in a long time. There’s never been a shortage on the ones on offer, but the older I get, and the more I live through, the more particular my tastes become. Some would say I’m a picky prick, and others would say I’m self-sabotaging, because there’s no such thing as the perfect woman. But I’ve been through them all; the one that got away, the one that changed me, and now I’m just too set in my ways to retread down that beaten path.
She can barely look at me, let alone talk to me. Getting a woman like Sasha onside with a man like me is difficult enough without adding feelings, and attraction. It would be easier to get a new kidney than it is convincing Sasha to hear my apology.
She returns, holding both things out to me, and I go for the backpack first. I grip the strap and throw it over my shoulder. Once I’m sure it isn’t going to fall off, I grab the paper and raise it close enough to read. I skim over the details of how Lily fell and the steps they took after. Satisfied with what’s written, I look back at her. “Coffee?”
“Jay,” she says with a sigh. “I can’t.”
“You can,” I push. “Just one conversation.”
Her eyes keep flicking to Lily, and I wonder if what people say about single dads are true. Hoping that Lily on my hip is enough to sway her.
“Whatever you need to say, you can say it here.”
“It’s been over a decade, Pretty Girl. I’ve got a lot to say.” The old nickname takes us both by surprise, but I don't feel any remorse or rush to take it back.
Sasha, on the other hand, blanches and any progress I might’ve made has been erased.
She shakes her head. “I can’t. Please don’t ask me again.”
I step closer and lower my voice. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“Just let it go, Jay,” she whispers.
“I’m going to go.” I keep my voice even, but the words direct and prudent. “I need to get this little one home and pamper her and her swollen head. But I’ll keep asking, Sash. I’ll keep asking ‘til you say yes.”
I don’t want to leave this room with any misconceptions on where I stand. Walking backwards, I keep my gaze on her. With my eyes on the prize, I give her no room to move, so the only thing she can see when she looks at me is the persistence of a man who won't take no for answer.
7
Sasha
He said he wasn’t giving up and I haven't seen him in a week. Max has dropped off and picked up Lily every day, and the words ‘where is Jay’ are on the tip of my tongue every single time.
If I thought she looked exhausted and worn down the first time I met her, now she’s a walking corpse, and I can’t help but want to know why.
Why she’s here instead of him, why she’s so sad. All. The. Damn. Time. And who she is to Lily. I want to punch myself in the face for even wanting the answers to these questions, but after I saw him with Lily… The way he doted on her. Held her. Loved her. It was like looking at a different man. One that wasn’t poisonous, one that hadn’t been tainted. One that I could stand to look at, and might want to know.
“You’ve been staring at her a little too much lately, don’t you think?” Holly asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Doesn’t she look different to you?”
“She might, but it’s none of my business.” I glare at her, annoyed at how she can stay so impartial to anybody else’s business but
mine.
“I can be worried,” I retort.
“Is that another word for nosy?”
“Fuck off,” I say while sticking my middle finger up at her. “She just looks like she needs help or someone to talk to.”
“That someone doesn’t need to be you though.”
I ignore her warning and wait for Max to pass our office. I need to know she's okay. For a reason I don’t want to admit, I need to know the reason for her broken spirit isn't Jay.
For my own sanity, I have to prove to myself that the side of the man I saw last week, is real and tangible. That I won't always be such a bad judge of character when it comes to him.
Or even better yet, she'll tell me that he's the worst thing to ever happen to her, and I’ll know I was right to never give him the time of day. I can pack him up in the box I keep in my cupboard, where he's been all this time.
I hear soft footsteps and jump out of my seat. Holly side eyes me, but I wave her off as I walk out the door. I come face to face with Max, who sidesteps me thinking she's in my way.
“Sorry,” she says with a half-hearted laugh. “I think I'm in your way.”
“No, not at all. I actually wanted to talk to you.”
She raises her head and narrows her eyebrows at me. “If it's about Lily, you need to speak to Jay.”
“No, I actually just wanted to ask if you were okay?”
“Me?” Her voice squeaks in shock. She tugs at the sleeves of her cardigan and avoids looking back at me. “I'm fine.”
“If you need any extra help or someone you can talk to, Holly and I can help.”
She offers me a tight smile. “Really, it's okay. I've got to go.”
She manoeuvres around me, but I gently grab her arm. “Is someone hurting you?”
“What?” The question completely throws her off balance. Whatever timidness I thought she had is gone, replaced with red hot anger. “Who do you think you are asking questions like that? You don’t even know me.”
I let go of her and stand back to give her some space. “I'm sorry, Max. I didn't know what else to think. You just look so different lately, I was worried about you.”
Rectify (A Redemption Novel Book 3) Page 7