Half A Heart

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Half A Heart Page 10

by Kim Hartfield


  “How can I?” I rasped. “I’m still being punished for it.”

  With that, I stabbed the phone with a finger.

  Call Ended.

  Fifteen - Sylvia

  The text came late at night. It was after eleven, and I was halfway into bed – my pajamas on, but my brain still working. When my phone vibrated, I didn’t hesitate to reach for it. I didn’t think it was anything that’d keep me up for long.

  Can I talk to you? the message read.

  It was from Jenelle.

  I sat up in bed, holding the phone between my fingertips, my heart suddenly pounding. I should say no. I had to say no.

  But there was no way I could do that.

  What’s going on? I typed. You okay? And is Mercy?

  The phone rang a half-second later. “Hey,” she said, worry thrumming through her voice. “I’m so sorry to bother you at this hour. I didn’t know who else I could call.”

  “What’s going on, Jenelle?”

  “Nothing bad,” she quickly said. “Nothing like that. I just – I talked to my sister.”

  I could picture her now, her strong brow furrowed, her luscious lips tight. Was she sitting in her bed like I was in mine, a cat curled up by her side? Was she wearing pajamas, too? She didn’t seem like the type to wear fuzzy polka dots or fleece, but she had to wear something to bed. Or did she? Maybe she had nothing at all on right now. Focus, Sylvia.

  “Your sister… who refused to watch Mercy that time?” I asked. “How did that go?”

  “It was weird. I hadn’t talked to her in so long. She’s the exact same, but kind of different, too.”

  “It can feel strange to reconnect with someone, especially someone you were once close with.”

  “You sound like a damn therapist.”

  I had to laugh. “Hey, social workers do get trained to provide counseling. So what disturbed you so much? You’re not sleeping because of this?”

  “Yeah.” She gave me a quick rundown of their conversation. “She acts like I had something to do with Mercy being taken, and I didn’t. I didn’t do anything wrong. It was her fault.”

  I was definitely awake now. I stretched my legs out in front of me in bed, straightening my back against the headboard and making Deedee look up at me in sleepy confusion. I scratched behind her ear, and her eyes shut again. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that.”

  “Why?” The question was a challenge.

  “You know the initial investigation was opened because she was home alone,” I said slowly. “After that, if everything was okay, the CPS workers would’ve left you alone. Remember how they kept coming for visits?”

  “I was fine. Everything was normal.”

  “Not that normal, or they wouldn’t have taken her.” I wondered how she could not know this. “You remember the hearing, don’t you? They would’ve talked about all the ways your parenting could improve.”

  She scoffed. “I didn’t pay attention. They were just telling a bunch of lies and using big words to make it sound legit.”

  “Your lawyer should’ve explained everything to you.”

  “That damn lawyer didn’t do shit!” She paused as if realizing she’d exploded and reining herself in. “He didn’t explain anything. He showed up, blew off whatever questions I had, and left.”

  “He should’ve.”

  “And life should be fair, but it isn’t!” There was that anger again, only a flash this time. “I didn’t do anything to get Mercy taken away, Sylvia, I swear.”

  “You should look over the transcripts from the hearing.” She’d have to put in a special request for them. “Or…” Her case file was confidential. There was no way I could show it to her. “I can just tell you. They said the environment was unsanitary, the food provided was not nutritious, and that you demonstrated clear evidence of anger issues.”

  “That’s all bullshit.” But there was less conviction in her voice this time.

  “It’s okay, Jenelle. That’s why we’re working with you. To help you. The state wants you to be the best parent you can be. You can look at this time away from Mercy as a chance to get your life in order, so you’ll be better for her when she comes back. You have extra time now that you’re not caring for her every day. This is the best possible time to think about what kind of food you were giving her and how you might be able to keep your place cleaner. And to work on parenting skills. You are going to parenting classes, aren’t you?”

  It took her a long time to speak, and when she did her voice was soft and broken. “I don’t need that shit. I’m already a parent.”

  I stared down at my feet, splayed out before me in fuzzy slippers. “Parenting is an action, hon. It’s not a one-time event. There are plenty of people who knocked someone up, or got knocked up, without being parents. Think about a dad who hits his son, or a mom who leaves her daughter alone for days without food.”

  “That’s not me!”

  “I’m not saying you’re like that. Relax and just listen for a minute, okay?” I took her silence as an “okay.” “They had kids, but they’re not parents. You are one! But parenting is a skill, and it’s one you can get better at.”

  “You have no right to tell me any of this. You’re not a mom.”

  “Jenelle, stop shutting down like this.” I slid down the bed until I was under the blankets. “You’re not hearing what I’m saying, and I can only imagine you’re doing it on purpose.”

  She was silent.

  “I don’t need to be a mom to be able to see how much you love Mercy.” I chose my words carefully. “But you have room for improvement. We all do. And it’s not me telling you this, hon. It’s the government.” Why did I keep calling her hon? “I’m trying to break this to you as gently as possible, because I care about you.” Why did I care? “What happens to you and Mercy is not my choice – but if you do what I say, you have a better chance of getting her back faster.”

  Again, she said nothing. I opened my mouth to speak again, but I held back. If I waited long enough, she’d have to talk. Or else I’d get the dial tone blaring in my ear. One or the other of those options.

  “I guess… you’re right,” she finally said. She sounded dejected – but also resigned. “I have to do better.”

  Now we were getting somewhere! She’d given up the defensiveness, and I’d actually gotten through to her. I felt like punching the air.

  “Going to the parenting classes would be a good first step,” I told her. “Do you need me to help you find some that fit your schedule?”

  “I don’t need anything!”

  Some things never changed.

  “But… if you don’t mind helping me out… I guess that’d be nice.”

  My jaw dropped open, and the phone slipped out of my hand. I scrambled to pick it up.

  “Sylvia? You still there?” she was asking.

  “I am. Yeah.” I held the phone to my ear, still gobsmacked. “I’d be happy to.”

  “Okay, great. Thank you for talking me through this. Taking the time… I appreciate it.”

  Gratitude? From Jenelle? “That’s not a problem.”

  “Do you think we could maybe… talk about the parenting classes in person?”

  My blood ran cold. “We shouldn’t.”

  “We shouldn’t be talking on the phone, either, but here we are.”

  She had a point. If we were going to do this, risk my job for a phone call, we might as well go the distance. At least then it’d be worth it if anything were to go wrong because of this.

  The better idea would’ve been to wait… but I was tired of playing it safe. Or maybe I just wanted to see Jenelle that badly.

  “Okay,” I said. “Fine. We can meet up.” I had to set a limit on this. It couldn’t become a regular thing. “Just once.”

  “Once, huh?” Now her voice was a purr. “Better make it a good one.”

  A twinge of desire went through my core. How had she gone from normal person to sex kitten within a matter of seconds? A
nd would she do something similar in real life? “Don’t tempt me.”

  “And why not?”

  I pressed my legs together. “Stop, Jenelle. We’ll meet up tomorrow after work. You don’t work on Tuesday nights, right?”

  “You know my schedule.” She sounded impressed. “Where would you like to meet?”

  Right here, in my bed. “Um… anything public might be a little risky…”

  “You can come over if you’d like. I’ll make sure it’s a sanitary environment for you.”

  My throat went dry and my heart pounded. Going to Jenelle’s place? That seemed like a recipe for getting into trouble. It wasn’t guaranteed that we’d have sex, but it would certainly be possible. And hooking up with her would cross so many lines.

  Then again, wasn’t that what I wanted? What I’d been waiting for? It was most likely going to be a one-time thing, seeing as I didn’t do relationships. If we slept together once, I could put my attraction to her aside and focus on doing my job.

  This might be the best possible thing for all of us, including Mercy.

  “Sylvia?”

  “Yes. Um… okay. I can come. What’s your address?”

  She gave it to me, and we hung up. We’d talked for a long time, but I was even less sleepy than when I’d picked up the phone.

  I lay back in bed, wondering if I’d officially gone off my rocker. I had to be nuts to put my job at risk like this – but the thought of being with Jenelle overpowered all of my practical concerns. Even just thinking about her, heat was rising in my body. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t do something to release this tension.

  I slipped a hand inside my pajamas, Jenelle’s pretty face front and center in my mind. My core tightened as my fingers made contact with my aching bud. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this. That call had gotten me hot, even the parts that were tough, even the times when she was mad at me. The sound of her voice did something to me that I wasn’t used to, and that I couldn’t explain.

  I massaged myself rhythmically, my lips parting as I sucked in shallow breaths.

  If I went through with this, would it really be just once?

  I already knew I was going to want more.

  Sixteen – Jenelle

  Why had I invited Sylvia over here? Why? I rushed around my kitchen, scrubbing crusty remains of long-ago meals off the stove and running a dust cloth over the counters. She’d be here in less than twenty minutes, and I still hadn’t tackled the living room. Or the bedroom.

  I stopped moving, a pulse going through my core as I wondered if she’d be joining me in there. Depending where her mind was at, we might not spend much time outside of that room at all. I’d be more than happy to take her in there and explore her body – after she gave me the information about the parenting classes. That was still my number one priority.

  Jumping back into action, I raced into the living room. It was more likely that she’d be in here than the kitchen. I took in the room with fresh eyes, trying to imagine what it’d look like to her. The result was… not good.

  I had to admit, it was a mess – although I wouldn’t have called it unsanitary. I was always so tired after working two jobs, I didn’t have the energy to clean up. Plus I did so much scrubbing and washing at the strip club bar, I never felt like doing the same thing once I got home. I tended to do whatever urgently needed to be done, then flop into bed.

  Hopefully things would be better when – not if – I got a better-paying job.

  I did a quick circuit around the room, throwing junk in the garbage and bringing dirty plates over to the sink. God, some of Mercy’s toys were still lying on the floor. She hadn’t been here for months. A pang went through my heart. It hurt when I realized how casually I’d come to think about it. I’d get her back soon, though. And Sylvia would help.

  Our conversation last night had been illuminating. I couldn’t put the blame on other people – which meant I deserved this. The hole in my chest that’d been there since Mercy was gone had turned into a giant, gaping chasm. Maybe that was why I’d invited Sylvia over. I was hoping she would fill it.

  A knock came at the door, and my chest tightened. This place was still a mess, but it was too late to do anything about it. Besides, no amount of cleaning would change the fact that it was a dump.

  I went over to the door. “Hey,” I breathed.

  Sylvia was in her work clothes, her hair still up in its usual bun. I wanted to pull those blonde locks out, watch them wash down to her shoulders, run my fingers through them. I’d worn a simple outfit myself – loose-fitting jeans and a tank top, my curls in a high puff.

  “Hey,” she said, coming in and slipping off her shoes. “I brought some information for you. There are several places where you can take the classes, and some of them are drop-ins, so you might be able to get through them faster if you go to different locations.”

  I accepted the papers, though I didn’t process a word she said. “Thanks.” I set them aside for the moment. “Come on in.”

  “This is a nice place.” She glanced around as I led her to the living room.

  “You don’t have to lie.” She’d probably never even been to this part of town before. “It’s sanitary, at least.”

  “I’m not the one who wrote that. It was in your file…”

  Pursing my lips, I shook my head. “For one night, I don’t want to think about my file.”

  Her gaze flicked around the room. “What’s that?” She pointed at a plain navy-blue folder on the coffee table.

  I rushed to shove it under a couch cushion. “Nothing.” I hadn’t had time to hide it. I didn’t want to think about what she’d say if she saw what was inside. “I don’t want to talk about that, either.”

  A dark look came into her eyes. “Then what do you want to do?”

  “I think you know that already.”

  I stepped closer to her, my heart pounding. I might’ve misread this, might’ve misjudged what she’d come here to do. I braced myself for the possibility of rejection.

  None came. She stepped into my arms, and her lips met mine with a soft gasp. We melted against each other like we were made to fit together, and the skin on my arms stood up in goosebumps. This felt like more than a simple kiss. It felt meaningful.

  It felt like a beginning.

  This time, there was no question of either of us pulling away. The kiss deepened, and the sensation of spinning through thin air intensified. I grasped at her, my hands roaming over whatever parts of her were safe to touch. Letting out a low moan, she brought my hands over the parts I’d been avoiding.

  I struggled to breathe. I had her breasts in my hands, and even with her bra in my way, I could feel everything. Was this really happening? Me and Sylvia? She unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt, and I slipped my hand inside. My palm found her nipple, and she let out another gasp. Yes – oh my God! – this was real.

  “Where’s your room?” she asked, her eyes half-lidded and full of desire.

  Oh my God… this was about to get a lot more real. “Over here.”

  I took her by the hand to lead her there, and the intimacy of the gesture felt even more significant than what we were about to do. I took a breath, and my heart leapt into my throat. What were we about to do? Should we talk about this?

  Stopping in the doorway to my bedroom, she cleared her throat. “Wait… Jenelle… I need to be clear with you. This is only a one-time thing.”

  I nodded. “Until I get Mercy back.”

  “I mean ever.” She gazed at me seriously. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting or looking for, but I don’t do relationships. I just don’t.”

  “Oh.” I tilted my head, eyeing her in this new light. This seemed like a lot of build-up for only one night. All these months of anticipation… But okay. I could live with that. I hadn’t been sure if I wanted to date her, either. “That’s fine with me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. I don’t have time to date. I
hardly do, and when I do happen to, I keep things casual.” I preferred friends with benefits over a one-time thing, but Sylvia was already here in my bedroom. I wasn’t going to turn her down because of this.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

  She sounded so concerned, like she’d thought she was going to break my heart. “Did you think I was in love with you or something?” I asked, both my eyebrows shooting up. “You turn me on. That’s it.”

  She blinked, then blinked again. “Thanks… I think. Same to you.”

  “Glad we’re on the same page,” I mimicked. I was annoyed, even if I couldn’t explain why.

  She moved toward me again, and I tensed up as she kissed me. I nipped her lower lip, which had the unexpected effect of making her groan. The sound sent a charge through my core, and I could feel my panties growing slicker. I nipped her again, to please rather than punish. When she let out a rush of air, I was emboldened. I laid little nibbles along her neck and throat.

  Then we were on the bed, our clothes flying off with frustrated passion. I soaked in the sight of her beautiful body – then remembered I didn’t have to just look, I could touch. I ran my hands over her, and her back arched as her legs parted. It was a clear invitation – and one I intended to take her up on.

  I lowered myself between her legs, and her breath was audibly ragged as I kissed along her inner thighs. I wanted her hot and bothered, and judging from the way she was dripping for me, it was working.

  “Are you going to go down on me?” she asked throatily.

  “Only if we’re on the same page about it.”

  “Would you cut it out? It wasn’t – oooh.”

  Her hips rocked toward me as I drew my tongue along her center. I nudged upward, finding my way through her folds to the spot I knew she wanted me most. As I worked my tongue slowly up and down, her thighs trembled around my ears.

  Her fingers found the back of my head, and she held me where I was. “Right there. Don’t stop.”

  I swirled my tongue around her clit, loving the choked responses each stroke brought out of her. She was a different person from the woman I’d first met. The uptightness was gone, all hints of snobbiness vanished. This woman now was sensual and erotic, even wanton. She wasn’t self-conscious about what she wanted, and she knew damn well how she was going to get it.

 

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