Us After You

by Claudia Burgoa

She looks at me and warns me, “I hope you don’t mind his thirteen-year-old sense of humor. Everything he says ends up sounding—dirty.”

  “That’s impossible,” I say skeptical.

  “You’ve been warned,” Ethan reiterates and looks at Hannah. “I’m pretty sure that’s just Tucker’s humor. There’s no way a teenager can come up with nonsense the way he does.”

  “Don’t worry,” Tucker reassures me. “We’re not at that stage of our friendship.”

  I’m puzzled about these stages, and I hope I can get to the point where he won’t stop mid-sentence and tell me exactly what he’s thinking.

  We spend most of the day with Mae. Rocco is in his room, ignoring the baby. I wonder if he’ll stay the same when she starts crawling, talking, or walking.

  Will he soften when she calls him Daddy?

  I know Tucker would melt if she said that to him. Whoever ends up marrying that guy is going to be one lucky woman.

  When he parks in front of my building, he hands me his phone. “Program your number, please.”

  I do as he says. On my name, I type Sage, not bar girl, then my phone number. When he sees it, he smiles and then taps his phone. I receive a text that reads, This is Tucker—not bar guy.

  “Text me when you arrive at Nana’s place,” I request, before leaving the car. “Thank you for bringing me home and have a safe flight, okay.”

  “Thank you for keeping us company. My Sunday would’ve been less exciting without you and Mae.”

  I smile and close the door, walking toward my apartment.

  Following my regular routine, I practice yoga then take a long bath, while putting on contemporary jazz, and close my eyes relaxing after a long, yet fulfilling weekend.

  Maybe I didn’t do much for Mae or Rocco, but if I continue visiting, I might be able to help more and forge a long-lasting relationship with both of them.

  By the time I slip into bed, my phone buzzes.

  Tucker D: I’m at Nana’s.

  Sage: Thank you for this weekend and for the ride home.

  Tucker D: Are you busy during the week?

  Sage: I wasn’t lying when I said my schedule is packed until nine—every day.

  Tucker D: At what time do you close the bookstore?

  Sage: At seven.

  Tucker D: Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow just to chat. I need human contact.

  Sage: What about Alex and Nana?

  Tucker D: They’re going back to work tomorrow. I’m staying at home with Mae.

  Sage: Talk to you tomorrow then. Have a good night.

  Tucker D: Are you already going to bed?

  Sage: It’s almost eleven. I have to be at the ski lodge at six a.m. for a class. Go to sleep. You need some energy if you’re going to be babysitting.

  Tucker D: What are you wearing?

  I look at my camisole and smirk. He doesn’t need to know I just wear a thin tank-top that barely covers my naked body. Friends don’t tell that to each other, do they?

  Sage: A sweatshirt and lounging pants.

  Tucker D: Somehow, I don’t believe you. Goodnight, Sage.

  Sage: Sweet Dreams, Tucker.

  Tucker D: You’re not answering your phone.

  Sage: I’m working.

  Tucker D: You said you close at seven.

  Sage: We still have customers.

  Tucker D: Let me know when I can call you.

  Sage: How’s Mae?

  Tucker D: sent a picture

  Sage: Aww, she’s adorable! You look tired.

  Tucker D: I had to work all night. Next time I’ll send you one with a filter.

  Sage: :laughing emoji:

  Sage: Can I call you when I get home? Grandma just invited me to have dinner with her and Gramps.

  Tucker D: :wink emoji:

  32

  Tucker

  Almost everyone has heard the phrase, “Once you have a child, your life changes.” I’ve seen it with some of my friends and my family. Nana and Alex might not have human kids, but I see how they always prioritize their furkids.

  Schedules change, work is different, and even when you don’t want to admit it, you stop partying. My case is different. I stopped partying a couple of years ago. Now, I have a niece who’s being neglected by her father. And a friend who is pretending his wife didn’t die, and he doesn’t have a newborn.

  We’re all staying with Nana and Alex. Ethan visits daily, while Zeke stays away. He stays true to what he said a couple of weeks ago when he said he couldn’t be around Rocco if he’s high. He’s going to NA meetings every day.

  After the funeral, it’s become a habit for Sage and I to talk at least once a day. Right after she closes the store—which never happens at seven. Someone always enters the store five minutes before closing time and leaves twenty minutes later.

  Nana and Alex haven’t come back from work. Rocco went to the studio to practice. Instead of working, I’m cradling my Snuggle Bug. Getting as much time with her as possible before I have to leave for Colorado.

  “Maybe I should reschedule my meetings for a year or two,” I say, and the sleepy baby sighs in response.

  The alarm sounds, and it’s time to check if Sage is free.

  Tucker D: Ready?

  Sage: Yes, I just turned the sign to close and locked the door. We had a few last minute visitors. Tourists who are here for the pumpkin and corn festival.

  Tucker D: You mean a corn maze?

  Sage: No, it’s called THE PUMPKIN AND CORN FESTIVAL.

  Tucker D: You guys have too many weird festivals.

  Sage: Have I told you about the shaved ice festival?

  Tucker D: Is that real or are you just messing with me?

  Sage: Call me, I’m ready.

  “How are they?” Sage asks the moment she answers.

  Fuck if I know. Rocco seems to be almost back to normal. The biggest issue we have with him is that he doesn’t acknowledge Mae. We’re all living with Hannah because Rocco refuses to go back to his house. It’s not his.

  Nana and I keep track of Mae’s changes in her journal. We all take pictures of her. Alex films her all the time. Mae cooing. Mae touching her bottle. Mae sleeping close to her big bunny. Mae thrusting her little legs up in the air. Anything she does fascinates us.

  Rocco ignores her. I love the guy, and I understand, but why can’t he try?

  “He said he’s ready to go back on tour,” I tell her.

  “It’s only been a couple of weeks since the funeral. You shouldn’t let him.”

  “It’s not up to me. He’s an adult.”

  “What about Mae?”

  “Alex and Nana have temporary guardianship of her,” I inform her.

  “Isn’t that in case of emergency?”

  I huff. “He claims he doesn’t have time to do what she needs. He barely has time to get out of his room.”

  “Sounds like depression,” she says and asks, “Is he clean?”

  “At least,” I agree with her and add, “He’s clean—for now. He refuses to go to rehab.”

  “How can we help him?”

  Fuck if I know…

  “He refuses to go to a counselor. My grandfather comes by every day to check on Mae and chat with him,” I tell her. “There’s only so much we can help with when he doesn’t acknowledge he has a problem—or a daughter.”

  “Sienna would want him to be a better father than ours,” she states. “What if we tell him that? I could go and …”

  “You already tried it once, and I still have a black eye to prove it,” I remind her.

  “Maybe if you hadn’t charged—”

  “He would’ve hit you,” I inform her. “He wasn’t listening to reason, and if he had touched you, I’d have killed him. Jail is at the top of the list of places I’m not allowed to visit.”

  She laughs. “Such a shame. I was hoping you’d come with me.”

  “How are your grandparents?”

  “We’re grieving. Even though she wasn’t close to them,
they loved her. My parents still blame me. Dexter is devastated.”

  “I worry about you,” I say. “You seem to be holding them together, but who is holding you?”

  “My mentor, the counselor, sometimes Corbin, and some of my friends.” When she mentions the fucker she’s dating, I stop listening.

  “If you need anything…” I offer, stupidly, because she has fucking Corbin.

  “Thank you,” she chirps. “Remind Alex to send me more pictures.”

  “Against my wishes, I have to fly back to Colorado next week,” I tell her, pressing Mae closer to me. “I hate that I have to leave her.”

  “I might drive to Seattle this weekend,” she offers.

  “Let us know. I’ll send the jet.”

  “You shouldn’t bother.”

  “We’re a family, remember.”

  “I wish my family was half as nice as you guys are,” she sighs. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m alone.”

  But she’s not alone.

  And I wish she was here and not with fucking Corbin in Oregon.

  But we can’t always get what we want, can we?

  “Are you going home or to your grandparents’ place?” I ask.

  “Today is book club day, and tomorrow, I’m doing a Reiki workshop,” she says. “You should find someone to practice that on Rocco.”

  “You could…”

  “Nope. I think I would try to find a way to strangle his chakras, and that’s not very nice.”

  “Have I ever told you I don’t like the word ‘nice?’”

  “No,” she counteracts. “Nice is a good word. You have just been using it wrong. Now, be a nice friend and send me a picture of that baby.”

  “Sometimes I think you just want me to send you selfies of me and use Mae as an excuse,” I tease her.

  She cracks up. “Keep telling yourself that. I’m sure that’s what you do with the women you date.”

  “If I was dating—which I don’t date—I’d ask for her tits, not her face,” I joke.

  “You’re a breast man?”

  “No, I’m an everything man. Love a firm ass, a good pair of tits—no matter the size—I’m not picky, and pussies are my favorites.”

  “I shouldn’t walk into this one, but I need to know. Why are they your favorite?”

  “Eating pussy is the best,” I answer in all honesty. “Let me know when you want me to show you.”

  “Do you always have to end this call with sex talk?”

  “No, sweetheart,” I correct her. “You end the calls because you stop the sex talk.”

  “Goodnight, Tucker,” she says and hangs up the phone.

  Tucker D: Are you hot and wondering what would it be like for me to lick you until you come?

  Sage: Stop!

  Tucker D: I bet you taste delicious.

  Sage: You’ll never know.

  Tucker D: See that’s when you’re supposed to promise me a blow job in exchange and say you’d take me deep.

  Sage: Never done that.

  Tucker D: Taken someone deep?

  Please don’t say blow job, please don’t say …

  Sage: Never blew a guy—not even my ex-husband.

  Tucker D: Wait, you’re divorced?

  Sage: Yep, married at twenty-six, divorced at twenty-seven. Moved in with my grandparents at twenty-eight. Back to dating at thirty-one.

  Tucker D: Has anyone eaten your pussy?

  Sage: I’m not going to answer that.

  Tucker D: Anal sex?

  Sage: I’m not sure our friendship has reached that stage. I’m not sure if we’re even friends yet. I just started to like you.

  Tucker D: Fuck, you’re thirty-one and never… I don’t want to be your friend.

  Sage: Okay, then.

  Tucker D: Virgin mouth, virgin ass, and innocent as fuck. I think we need to change this to friends with benefits.

  Sage: I arrived at my book club meeting. Goodnight.

  Tucker D: Wait, were you driving this whole time?

  Sage: No, I walked. Remember, in Baker’s Creek, everything is within walking distance.

  Tucker D: Text me before you go to bed.

  Sage: Why?

  Tucker D: I want to have naughty sexting with you.

  Sage: Talk to you tomorrow, Tucker!

  33

  Sage

  Tucker D: What are you wearing?

  Sage: I said we’re not sexting and that’s that.

  I laugh when he sends me a gif of a puppy begging.

  Sage: No, I have a boyfriend.

  Tucker D: And whose fault is that?

  Sage: I have work to do. Stop hounding me.

  “Everything okay, Sage?” Grandma asks, and I choke while I nod.

  “Yes, all is fine. I’m reading something funny,” I state, staring at the bloodhound image Tucker sent me.

  Sage: Aren’t you busy?

  Tucker D: Yes, but you ignored me last night.

  Sage: We’re not having sex, phone sex, sexting or whatever else you come up with that involves you, me, and sex.

  Tucker D: I’d be so good.

  Sage: How is Mae today?

  Tucker D: There are only three phases of Mae: Mae sleeping, Mae eating, Mae wailing. The last usually occurs between the hours of midnight and six in the morning. She hates when others sleep.

  He sends me an image of the woman from The Exorcist.

  Tucker D: She becomes that when the sun goes down. Little evil spawn.

  Sage: You seem to be handling it fine.

  Tucker D: Babe, I don’t handle shit. As I told Hannah, I take care of her during the day, they get to deal with the evil baby.

  Sage: I need to work. Talk to you after we close?

  Tucker D: About that tit-selfie.

  Sage: Goodbye :eye roll emoji:

  “How is Mae doing this morning?” Grandma asks.

  “She’s doing well.” I think, because I was too busy flirting with Tucker to ask.

  Shit, we have to stop. This is getting too heavy, and I’m dating Corbin. I recall Tuck’s words. Whose fault is that?

  “He makes you smile,” she says.

  “Who?”

  “The guy who is taking care of Mae,” she responds, giving me a ‘don’t bullshit me’ look.

  “He’s funny,” I answer.

  “At the end of the day, that’s what matters,” she says.

  “What?” I ask.

  “That the person you’re with is funny and you like him. Looks disappear, but what’s in their heart—that only grows more beautiful.”

  “No, he’s … we’re not,” I groan, because her face has a smile that says you’re lying to yourself.

  Am I?

  Tucker isn’t the guy I thought he was in the beginning. He’s so much more than the musician everyone idolizes.

  He’s not just a man. He’s a guy with depth, a past that turned him into a sensitive, strong, and nurturing guy. He’s like a library the size of the universe. I could get lost learning about him for days, maybe years. Forever.

  It wouldn’t be a hardship.

  He’s thoughtful, smart, and there’s never a dull moment with him. But what if I fall for him?

  If he becomes my entire world?

  What if he destroys me … with just one kiss?

  “You’re taking everything out of context,” I say, hoping this is the last time she brings up Tucker.

  “Love is a language not many understand until they experience it,” she continues. “Mostly, when it happens at a soulful level. It becomes something else, and it’s based on what’s inside you—and him. The connection of mind, body, and soul. It’s not about appearances.”

  She touches the left side of her chest.

  “When it happens…” She closes her eyes and lets out a soft breath. “The fear to hand your heart and yourself to that one deserving person disappears. Mostly because he already surrendered himself to you. That love becomes unbreakable, undeniable, unexpectedly eternal.”

&n
bsp; “You should put down those sweet romances that you read,” I say, trying to break the tension that her words are producing, because I’m in no shape to believe in her words and her nonsense. “Why don’t you try John Grisham or maybe Stephen King. Now, that’s the kind of literature that I’m willing to experience. Love … when you give people that kind of power, they can destroy you.”

  “That’s not love, honey,” she corrects me and pats my hand.

  “I’m sorry that man hurt you so much that you can’t let yourself feel, and out of fear, you chose a guy like Corbin,” she says, and I almost laugh because lately I don’t even remember Corbin exists. “Don’t get me wrong, I like him—but he’s not love. Not your love.”

  “What you and Gramps have is precious, but I don’t think I want that,” I clarify. “Why don’t we get to work? You’re going to be on your own this weekend.”

  “Sometimes,” she says. “We make ourselves believe that we’re happy the way things are and there’s no reason to reach for what seems to be a dream, a mirage, a sandcastle. Reach, Sage. Move. Stillness is worse than being dead. Stop lying to yourself.”

  We work in silence for the next couple of hours, but at lunch time, my phone chirps. It’s Tucker, and I should block him, but he’s my 24/7 access to Mae.

  Tucker D: It’s sunny in Seattle.

  Then, a picture of him holding Mae appears. She’s wearing a tiny peach color dress with a big bandana the same color as the dress. My heart beats fast, and I swear my ovaries explode. Is it bad to want his babies?

  I think that over for a moment before I throw caution to the wind and text him back.

  Sage: She looks adorable. How long until she starts smiling?

  Tucker D: According to Hannah, six to eight weeks. Alex and I swear she’s already smiling. She bought us a baby book. I guess I’ll find out soon.

  Sage: I’m definitely going to see her this weekend.

  Tucker D: I’ll send someone to pick you up Friday night.

  Sage: I have to teach a yoga class on Saturday.

  Tucker D: You’re bendy?

  Sage: Stop!

  Tucker D: Babe, I can’t stop. Really, tell me anything. What’s your favorite snack, or pastry, or guilty pleasure?

  Sage: Chocolate donuts with sprinkles.