Us After You

by Claudia Burgoa

  “Not sure how to feel about what you’re saying,” I say, trying not to sound harsh. “Listen, we all have different ways of coping, Sage.”

  “Sorry, please don’t take this the wrong way. I’ve been trying to decipher the origins of your … personality,” she explains. “You give off one vibe, but your actions are different.”

  “You don’t need a vibe to feel shit. My hands can do a better job than any toy,” I tease her.

  She turns red, and I love that color on her. Flustered and chewing on her bottom lip.

  “You’re impossible,” she says, jumping away from me.

  “Scared?”

  “Of you?” She shakes her head.

  “Do you want to come with me to buy a new television?” I offer, hoping she says yes because this domestic shit with her is kind of fun.

  “The house is perfect the way Hannah left it,” she claims.

  “She only bought the essentials. We need a television.”

  She shows me a stack of books. “You could read books.”

  “What should I do while reading a book?”

  She blinks twice. “What do you mean?”

  “I need something on as background noise. A good television series or a movie.”

  “Well, set that in the bedroom, not in the family room.”

  “What if the Snuggle Bug wants to watch cartoons?”

  She grunts. “She’s a baby.”

  “There’s that Baby Einstein shit.”

  “What is that?”

  I show her the old DVDs Mom sent. “They’re educational. One a day is good for her.”

  “I’m sure the book you gave me says nothing about screen time—for babies. Probably, that’s not even a thing.”

  “Poor Snuggle Bug,” I declare. “You’re going to be that kind of mom, and I’m going to have to be the cool dad.”

  “This is weird,” she says and frowns. Her alarm buzzes, and she walks away. I can’t help but follow her to the kitchen.

  She warms up the water for Mae’s bottle. I wash my hands and start looking for everything we need.

  “What’s weird?” I ask, as we busy ourselves.

  “We talk as if we’re keeping her forever, but we can’t make plans because we don’t even know what’s going to happen with Mae.”

  “She’s ours,” I remind her. “Forever.”

  I look at the time; it’s noon. As I search through the fridge, I’m thankful that Hannah stocked it up. I begin to grab stuff for sandwiches.

  “I made plans with him, you know,” Sage says, after a long silent pause. “When we were dating. An apartment on 5th Avenue, a house in the Hamptons, and another in Milan. Those were his dreams—I should’ve known there was something wrong then. Mine was a house, maybe in the suburbs. He hated it. Three kids, maybe four. He suggested one. I agreed to everything he said because I loved him, because I wanted love.”

  “What kind of future do you want?” I dare to ask.

  She counteracts with another question, “Have you ever had a serious relationship?”

  I shake my head, cutting the sandwiches in half. This woman has a knack to dodge conversations and put me on the spot.

  “No, it’s complicated. First, I avoided relationships to spare my best friend’s feelings and then I just didn’t see the point.”

  “Hannah?”

  “No, Ethan. Which is funny because he’s been in a shit ton of relationships while I’ve never had more than a weekend with a woman,” I say and laugh. “I don’t regret it, though.”

  “So, you just sleep around?”

  “I used to.” I am pretty clear when I tell her this. According to Hannah, women like to know where they stand in a relationship. “I stopped two years ago. The first time I tried to get to know a woman, she told me to go and fuck myself. She hated my five-hundred-dollar haircut.”

  “Sorry. You…” she sighs. “You reminded me of Douglas. The suit, the posture, the way you felt like ordering me around.”

  “Never confuse me with him, okay?” I rummage through the fridge and get some carrots, kale, lime, and strawberries.

  “You’re making a salad?”

  “Ew, no,” I answer. “I’m making a juice.”

  “You won’t eat a salad, but you’ll drink that?” She scrunches her nose. “You’re ridiculous, Decker.”

  “Somehow, I think you like that about me, Heywood,” I declare. “Let’s take this to the nursery and have lunch. Afterward, we’ll go and buy a couple of televisions.”

  46

  Tucker

  “You abandoned me,” my sister, Piper, says on the other side of the line.

  “Don’t be dramatic, Ladybug,” I say into the phone, as I turn off the car and disconnect the Bluetooth on the phone. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes. If you think you’re getting rid of me, you have another thing coming,” she exclaims. “Tell me about the girl.”

  “You already met Mae.” I play dumb. “You were here during Rocco’s funeral.”

  She huffs in frustration. “You’re ridiculous.”

  I laugh. “Why do women like to tell me that all the time?”

  “The girl calls you that?”

  “Sage is a woman,” I clarify.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’re living with her?” she asks. I love her inquisitive mind, but when I’m the object of her curiosity, it’s annoying. “Winnie says she’s nice. I can’t believe you let her hang out with your little sister and not me.”

  “First and foremost, it’s not a secret. The entire family knows about it,” I mutter, pushing the door that connects the garage to the house open and wondering why she’s calling me. “Second, you live in New York. How are you supposed to hang out with her? How’s school?”

  “I’m thinking of changing careers,” she says. “Maybe try an English major and media as a minor?”

  “Why would you do that?” I ask, confused. “Aren’t you studying a master’s degree in music?”

  “Good, you’re paying attention,” she exclaims. “What’s with all the noise?”

  “I’m—” I sigh. The sink is filled with dishes and pots. “Okay, so Sage meant it when she said she wouldn’t do the dishes because it was my turn.”

  Piper laughs. “I like her. She doesn’t know you’re a slob, does she? You should tell her about the empty cereal boxes and the juice jar.”

  “You’re confusing me with Greyson,” I say to try to defend myself, as I walk around the house looking for Sage and Mae.

  “Are things with this Sage serious?”

  I stop right outside the veranda. The glass doors are closed, but I spot her. She’s sitting on the bench swing, cradling Mae with one arm and a picture book with the other.

  “It’s complicated,” I answer truthfully.

  “That’s code for bullshit. You don’t want to tell me more.”

  “That mouth, Piper,” I chide her.

  “Did you know that the use of ‘fuck’ and other swear words is a sign of intelligence?”

  I chuckle. “Was that Grandpa Chris’s way of saying that Deckers are geniuses?”

  She laughs too. “Nope, it’s a real study, but it sounds like something he’d say. Look, you can’t be living with someone you’re attracted to and claim it’s platonic.”

  I stare at Sage. Not sure what is it about her that I like. No, like is such a weak word for what I feel. It’s hard to describe, but I never get tired of watching her. I admire her determination.

  She had no fucking idea what to do with Mae, and a week later, she’s so fucking fantastic with her.

  “I hate to burst your bubble, but there’s nothing going on between us,” I say without lying, because for now I have to think about Snuggle Bug. “We’re raising Mae, and hopefully, we won’t have any issues with her custody.”

  “You like her, at least accept that much.”

  “Piper … I need to stay away from her, or I’ll jeopardize the Snuggle Bug’s future,” I confess, or
maybe I’m reminding myself about the stakes—just like I do every time I’m close to Sage.

  “I’ll be home during the holidays if you guys want me to babysit,” she offers. “How are things with Mom and our dads?”

  “Better,” I offer, because I can’t tell her what happened to Mom and how I finally got my head out of my ass. “Hey, I have to go, Ladybug. We can talk later in the week. I might come to New York in a couple of weeks. Save me a few hours.”

  “For you, always,” she says, before hanging up.

  I open the door and walk toward Sage and Mae. Never in my life did I feel the way I do when I arrive home. It’s not contentment, nor happiness. It’s an emotion beyond description, and it’s not desire—though I want Sage. We’re not so different from one another. Forged by our pasts, brokenhearted, and filled with fear.

  Maybe together, we can step into our fears, endure them. Battle through them. We’ll give each other strength to defeat them. My biggest fear is to fall for her and not be enough. To fight for Mae but lose her to someone else. To create a family with them and have to walk away from them.

  I don’t let myself dream often. I don’t hope.

  I create opportunities.

  Today, though, I wish for this to be my life.

  For them to become mine.

  One dream. One hope. One wish.

  For this to become us.

  Sage stops swinging and looks up; our gazes lock, and her lips stretch into a beautiful smile. “Hi.”

  “Hey, what have you two been up to?”

  She looks down at Mae who’s asleep. I take her from her arms and kiss the top of the baby’s head before I do the same with Sage.

  Is it wrong to steal caresses and place a few chaste kisses on her skin?

  I hope not, because I don’t want to stop doing it.

  “Partying, of course,” she jokes.

  “So … the dishes,” I mention.

  “We have chores,” she states. “I know you like things dirty, but you better start cleaning them too.”

  “You want me to clean them?” I ask. “I can—”

  She lifts a finger and waves it. “No, you’re not about to say some joke in front of Mae, we added that rule,” she reminds me.

  “Let me set her in her crib and I’ll come back and lick you clean, babe.”

  She grunts, and if she says anything, I don’t hear her because the doorbell rings. “Sage, can you get that while I take Mae to her crib?”

  I put Mae down, make sure the camera is on and the baby monitor is working properly, before I march out of my room.

  When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I hear the commotion.

  “You can’t possibly think you’re fit to be her guardian, Sage?” A female voice resonates through the entire house. “That kid belongs to us. Not to you. You killed your child.”

  I reach Sage just in time, because she was about to charge toward her mother.

  “Out,” I order. “You’re not allowed to come into this house.”

  “You have my granddaughter. I came to pick her up,” she states. “She belongs to us. My husband is talking to social services.”

  “Wait for me in Mae’s room, please,” I whisper to Sage, before walking toward the main door and opening it.

  “Mrs. Heywood, you’re not welcome in this house. You’re trespassing on private property and if you don’t leave, I’ll call the police,” I say calmly and coldly.

  “This is my daughter’s house,” she claims.

  “Certainly not. This house doesn’t belong to Sage,” I clarify.

  “Sienna,” she rectifies. “We’ll be taking possession of everything that belongs to my granddaughter.”

  “No, this is my house, ma’am,” I inform her and pull out my phone and dial the emergency number for my uncle’s company. “As I said, you’re trespassing. I’ll be happy to let you see Mae—it’ll be good for her to get to know you. However, she belongs with Sage.”

  “What’s going on, Tucker?” my uncle answers.

  “I didn’t think I’d get the big guy,” I joke. “There’s a middle-aged woman, about five foot seven, short blonde hair, thin. Her name is Genevieve Heywood, and she’s about to walk outside my house. Can you make sure the security detail keeps her away from Sage and Mae?”

  “How about her husband?” he asks.

  “Him too, thank you,” I say, hanging up, then look at her. “The next time you want to see your daughter or granddaughter, make sure to set up an appointment with our lawyers.”

  “You’ll be hearing from us,” she says angrily.

  “Don’t ever talk to Sage that way,” I warn her, and when I look up, I spot Douglas. He’s far enough not to be violating the restraining order but still too close to my girls. “Tell Douglas Earnest Rosedale Ritzy III that I’ll be watching him. One wrong move, and I’ll make him pay.”

  I shut the door and text Clint who, instead of being my bodyguard, is now in charge of Sage’s security.

  When I walk toward the staircase, I find Sage sitting on the stairs holding her legs tight.

  “Were you about to slap your mother?”

  Her gaze lifts, and those cinnamon color eyes look at me with a raging flare. “Why was she here?”

  “Trying to intimidate you,” I respond, not adding that Douglas was with her. “I need to ask my parents for the information they gathered on them. Their company is in trouble.”

  She looks at me, and those eyes brighten, because something just connected. “The last time I saw Douglas, my parents had asked him for help. They needed a business partner. He’d only do it if I moved back to New York—with him. They’re pissed at me, but I didn’t know they’re desperate.”

  I control my fury and add, “Yeah, they came to me too, about a year ago, if I recall correctly,” I answer. “The only thing I remember is their last name and that their business was a mess. My guess is that they think Mae is the key to solve their problems. Should we tell them they can’t touch the trust fund?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Rocco asked to set up a trust. He didn’t give any instructions on how to set it up. Ethan and I are the number guys in the group. We closed it. No one can touch that money until she’s twenty-five,” I tell her. “She has us. There’s no need to use what her parents left her.”

  “I hope you pay child support when we go our separate ways,” she says jokingly.

  Instinctively, I place a hand on her hip and pull her closer to me. “What you don’t know is that I plan on keeping you with us.”

  “Until she turns eighteen?”

  I kiss her shoulder and shake my head. “In that case, we’ll have to have a couple more kids. That adds eighteen years per kid, right?”

  “You don’t do long relationships,” she says.

  Mae chooses this exact moment to fuss.

  “Fuck. I’ll get her.”

  “The dishes,” she reminds me. “We’re out of baby bottles.”

  “I’ll change diapers for a month if you do them, just for today,” I bargain, as I make my way upstairs.

  “Two months and I’ll consider it,” she answers.

  “You’re hardcore, Sage,” I complain. “I’m sure that’s how you like it, hard—rough.”

  “God, you’re impossible!”

  47

  Tucker

  “How’s everything going?” Nana enters my office and sits on the black leather couch. Ethan is right behind her.

  “Do you mind? I’m working,” I complain. “Just because I’m leasing an office in your building, that doesn’t give you the right to drop by whenever you want.”

  “He’s grouchy,” Ethan says, looking at Nana with a ‘we knew this would happen’ gaze. “I’m guessing he’s not getting any.”

  “There’s this teacher in the engineering department,” Nana, who is always trying to match us with someone, says.

  “I don’t like engineers.”

  “Huh, you could’ve fooled me,” she
comments. “Since you’re drooling for one.”

  I straighten up and look at her. “What? I don’t know any fucking engineers.”

  “Sage. She’s a computer engineer who graduated top in her class,” she continues. “She’s a genius.”

  Ethan looks at me. “That explains why she’s not interested in this idiot.”

  I cross my arms and ask, “What do you want?”

  “We have two more big offices,” Hannah explains. “Zeke is not interested in working here—yet. We’ll find something for him.”

  “I don’t work for you,” I remind them. “This is a telecommunications company, and I—”

  “You could be our CFO,” Ethan reminds me. “Whenever you want to step into HANNETH, the chair is yours, but the point is that Sage can use one of the offices. Be among adults.”

  “What are we supposed to do with Mae?” I ask, because it’s obvious that they didn’t think about her during their crazy scheme.

  “We have childcare here as well,” Nana tells me. “You can drop her off for a few hours. She gets to socialize with other babies—or we can set up something in this office.”

  I look around and say, “Please, tell me you’re not bullshitting me, because I’d love to bring her for a few hours on the days I come to the office.”

  Hannah high-fives Ethan, and she places a folder in front of me.

  “Have the doctor’s office fill out the forms for Lamb Tails Center so you can register Mae,” she explains. “We’ll have maintenance move your furniture around tonight and set up the nursery.”

  “Wait, you already have her furniture?”

  She nods and walks toward the door. “My job here is done. If you don’t mind, I have minds to twist and F’s to grant.”

  “Don’t be mean, Professor Hades,” I call out, but she’s gone.

  “She’s a force,” I declare.

  Ethan nods. “How are things with Sage?”

  “It’s been only a couple of weeks, but I think we’ve worked out a schedule and—”

  “Save that shit for Nana, who doesn’t believe it but likes to pretend, because the lawyers recommend you don’t fuck Sage. I know better.”