Every Other Weekend

by Jaxson Kidman

  I laughed and reached for the goggles. “I’ll make you a deal. No goggles tonight, okay?”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “I need you to play with your toys while I get your PJs out.” The doorbell rang. Sam and I both looked out of the bathroom door and then at each other. “And I need to answer the door really quick.”

  “Fine,” Sam said.

  I stood up and waited for him to climb into the water. I turned it off, being the overly cautious mother to make sure the water wasn’t too high for him. Mind you, Sam could swim in a pool without floaties. He reached for his tote of toys as the doorbell rang again.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said.

  Downstairs, I opened the door to find Jack standing there. He owned the house and loved to drop by at the most random, and usually worse, times possible.

  “Evening, Jordyn,” he said, smiling at me.

  His beard was bushy and gray. And he wore big glasses with thin frames and lenses that looked half tinted all the time. He wore the same ugly green baseball hat with nothing written on it.

  “Brought you a filter for your system,” he said. “Have to change it twice a year.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Six months already, huh?”

  “Yup,” he said. “Just think, six months ago we were making small talk about nice weather. Now we can do the same about snow.”

  “Well, no small talk for me, Jack. Sam is upstairs in the bath. I have to keep an eye on him.”

  “I’ll be in and out in a minute,” Jack said.

  “I can do that myself, Jack. You know that. I did it the last time.”

  “Right,” he said. “I forgot that you’re a resourceful woman.”

  I forced a smile even though I wanted to slap him. He always said stuff like that to me. As though I couldn’t take care of myself because I lived here alone with Sam. Even getting him to rent the place to me was a hassle. He walked me through every scenario and made me promise to keep his phone number on the fridge, just in case of an emergency. For the record, I only had to call him once when the outside outlet wasn’t working.

  Jack slowly handed me the filter. I felt like I had my left ear stretched out a mile wide to make sure that I could hear every little splash that Sam made in the bathtub.

  I grabbed the filter from Jack with a little force. “I’ll take care of it.”

  I put the filter down and he pointed to it. “Please, don’t wait. It’s important to keep the system cleaned out.”

  “Jack, I know. My son is in the bath right now. I’ll do it when he falls asleep.”

  “I’ll check on it,” he said with a smile, but he was being serious.

  “That’s fine,” I said.

  “Okay, I’ll leave you be then,” he said, showing his hands. “Don’t want you mad at me.”

  “Jack, it doesn’t matter if I’m mad at you. I pay the rent and you let me live here. Right?”

  He laughed. “You’re quick. I like that.”

  I curled my eyebrows down.

  Is he being nice or trying to flirt?

  I didn’t have time to debate – or get sick over the thought of it.

  “Make sure you change that filter,” he added one last time for good measure.

  “Goodnight Jack,” I said, and shut the door.

  Through the foggy glass pattern on the front door, I watched as he stood there for a few seconds, making me cringe. He finally walked off the porch and I went upstairs.

  Sam finished his bath a few minutes later and I wrapped him up in a towel and picked him up, groaning as I did so.

  “You know, I remember when you were so tiny, and I used to give you a bath. Now you’re almost as big as me.”

  Sam giggled and put his wet head on my shoulder.

  I carried him to his room, got him dressed and tucked him in.

  “I love you, Sammy,” I said.

  He rolled his eyes when I said that. “Love you too.”

  “Don’t get mad at me. I won’t see you all weekend, so I need to get all my Sammy’s in now. Right?”

  “I don’t like it, Mom,” Sam said.

  “Don’t like what?”

  “The weekend thing.”

  “You don’t like seeing Dad?”

  “I do. We have fun. I just wish it was every weekend.”

  “With Dad?” I asked, my heart slightly breaking.

  “You and Dad,” he said. “Why can’t we all be together?”

  The pain in my chest was real. But I had to keep cool. And collected. I could cry later when Sam was sleeping.

  I reached down and ran my fingers through his semi-damp hair. “Oh, Sammy, I’m sorry about that. You know Mom and Dad live apart. I know that’s hard for you. But you get two places to call home. And two bedrooms. Two sets of toys. I think that’s kind of neat, when you think about it. Plus, I work on the weekends when you’re not here. So how fun would that be if you were here and had to be with a babysitter?”

  Sam nodded. He heard me, but I wasn’t sure if he understood me. I hated this part of it. This was where I questioned what had happened. It made me wonder if I should have just stuck it out with Keith. Even if he and I didn’t get along, at least Sam would see us as a normal family. But the way Keith had been spiraling, there was no stopping it. I needed to get away and he needed to get help. We were better apart. Even if it hurt and confused Sam.

  “Sammy, you need to get some sleep,” I whispered. I kissed his forehead. “You’re an amazing kid. I don’t want you worrying about anything like that. You’re so loved, Sammy. I know that might not mean much now, but you’ll get it eventually. When you’re older, you’ll look back and…”

  His eyes were shut.

  I smiled.

  I let out a sigh as the emotion crept up from my chest.

  “Sammy, you’re so loved,” I whispered again. “Your life is amazing. You have big plans. No matter what happens. You have such big plans. Goodnight.”

  The first thing I did when I went downstairs was give the middle finger to the filter Jack brought me. I’d get to it, eventually.

  I cleaned up from dinner, and as I stood at the sink washing a plate, I caught my reflection in the window. It was mostly distorted, but I could see the messy strands of my hair sticking out wherever they wanted. I was sore from running around all day. My head didn’t hurt with the pain of a headache, but just a sense of being overwhelmed. I reminded myself that the weekend was here, and Sam would go have fun with Keith. And I’d…

  “Do what?” I asked my reflection.

  I wasn’t on the schedule for any catering work either. That was usually hit or miss. Or Alison would call me at the last second, desperate for my help. Which I would always be available for.

  I looked down at my hands. Soapy and sort of wrinkly. Chunks of carrots and corn splattered in the sink. The drain started to clog up from the overcooked pieces of meatloaf Sam refused to eat. Again, I didn’t blame him for that. I left the meatloaf cooking for too long.

  I turned the water off and stepped back. I shook my hands and reached for a towel. Between the week I’d had, and the conversation I’d just had with Sam at bedtime, my nerves were shot. All week I had been drinking coffee all day and into the night, so I was completely jumpy and sleeping like crap. The office had been extra busy all week with Mike demanding that he made up for whatever deal went bad.

  My eyes moved left to right around the kitchen.

  I tried to envision the weekend. Being alone. Trying to kill time. Trying to relax. Worrying about Sam. Texting Keith, knowing he would purposely wait to text me back. Working all week to get to the weekend and then never fully embracing it.

  I left the remaining dirty dishes in the sink and did something I never thought I would do.

  Something had been stuck in the back of my mind.

  Ramsey.

  He knew about Sam. He knew I was only free a few nights a month. He probably already had plans for the weekend, but would it be the worst thing
in the world to go out with someone? Not on a date. But just to get out of the house. And for whatever reason, Ramsey made me feel safe and comfortable. Seeing him punch that guy replayed a hundred times in my head. That quick glimpse of my life before having Sam. When motherhood was just a dream far down the road. The crazy nights of staying out too late, getting into trouble, and always finding a way to get out of that trouble.

  I bit my lip as I dug through my bag to find his number.

  Worst case, he wouldn't respond.

  Then I’d just have a regular weekend.

  I leaned against the dining room table and sent him a text. I was as nervous as if I had called him.

  Hey. It’s Jordyn.

  I put the phone down and slipped my hands to my face.

  What are you doing, Jordyn?

  My phone buzzed against the table.

  I looked back down and the screen was lit up.

  A reply from Ramsey.

  Took you long enough.

  I swallowed hard.

  Only two words came to mind.

  “Oh… shit…”

  8

  Only a Few Minutes

  Ramsey

  What the fuck was this now, a date?

  I hadn’t done the dating thing in a long time. I kept the situation pretty clear as far as what I wanted or needed, and that was that. If anything, the easiest thing would be to meet up at Shammy’s, grab a drink or two, and waste the night away. It struck me to imagine her as a single mother every single day and only getting a night or two here and there to get away from it all.

  But what the hell did I know?

  It was a situation that had to be messy, but luckily for me, I had plenty of boots.

  Hell, I was wearing a pair of black boots as I walked up the steps of her porch.

  It was a nice little house, a dark green color with black shutters on the second-floor windows. I was always the kind that could look at a house and think of twenty things to fix on it to make it even better.

  I rang the doorbell and stepped back.

  I wasn’t nervous. There was nothing to be nervous about. Hell, we talked through damn text messages for five minutes and that was it. But I spent all day at work thinking about her. Wondering how to approach everything and came up with one simple way to do it.

  However the fuck I wanted to do it.

  The door finally opened, and Jordyn stood at the screen door. Her hair was down, just past her shoulders, dark brown, curly like before. It pulled all my attention to her face, which I didn’t need convincing to look at.

  “Hey, darling,” I said.

  “Rams… shit…”

  She blinked and looked down.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  “This isn’t a good time. I shouldn’t have made plans.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Is your son still here? Am I too early?”

  “Rams, you should just go,” she said.

  I considered listening to her, but that was only for a second.

  Instead, I made a move and opened the screen door.

  The night at Shammy’s flashed in my mind again. That guy touching her. Me punching the guy.

  Only this was different.

  I wasn’t trying to get in her pants.

  “What’s wrong, Jordyn?” I asked.

  “I said-”

  I touched her chin and gently lifted her head so she would look at me.

  Comfort and calmness wasn’t my strong suit. My fingers started to shake as I realized she was crying.

  “I know you barely know me and I barely know you, but if you think I’m leaving here while you’re crying, you’re crazy. I thought we were going to grab a drink and talk or something. I show up and you’re in tears. If I leave, my mind will just keep racing all night.”

  “You don’t need this, Rams,” she said. “You’re free.”

  “Nobody is free, darling,” I said. “So, cut the excuses and talk to me.”

  “It’s hard when he leaves, okay?” she said. “When I have to watch him get into someone else’s car and then he’s gone. And it wasn’t an easy goodbye with his father this time. We had an argument and I feel like a terrible person right now.”

  I slowly moved my fingers from her chin and touched one of her tears.

  What are you doing here, Ramsey? She’s got a ton of baggage and is telling you to leave. Just wish her well and walk the hell away.

  “I doubt you’re a terrible person. Want to get a drink and talk about it?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Okay. Just thought I would offer again, Jordyn.”

  “Rams, can we just sit right here and talk?” she asked.

  “We can do anything you want,” I said.

  Jordyn pulled the door shut behind her and we both sat down on the top step of the porch.

  When she walked by me to get to the steps, I caught her scent. She smelled as beautiful as she looked. My eyes looked her up and down again, wondering how in the hell she had a kid. The curves pressing against the sides of her jeans hinted at it, but they were so perfectly placed with the rest of her body, it was hard to look at and not let my mind go crazy. Yet here she was, upset about something with her kid and I was eye humping her.

  Typical Ramsey.

  I turned a little and leaned against the brick base to the pillar on the porch. “Talk to me.”

  “Do you really want to know this stuff?” she asked. “I mean… why?”

  “Truthfully? I don’t know why. This is not my normal.”

  “What is your normal, Rams?”

  I smiled. “I don’t give away my secrets.”

  “I promise, I won’t tell anyone. And I won’t try to use them either.”

  “Okay.” I inched toward her. “Me and the guys from work usually have a drink or two at Shammy’s. If the bar is busy and everyone is enjoying themselves, then I’ll stick around. I don’t really make plans.”

  “That makes you a one-night stand kind of guy?”

  “Is that what you’re looking for?” I asked with a grin.

  Her cheeks flushed. “No, Rams. That wasn’t an invitation. It was a question. I was just curious what your normal is.”

  “Here,” I said. “Let me see your hand for a second.”

  She gave me her hand. I took it with my left hand. I noted how soft her hands were. How her fingernails looked like they were bitten down stubs with super tiny chips of nail polish on them. All these little things hitting me in a soft spot I didn’t know I had.

  “I’d find someone beautiful like you, Jordyn. And I’d stare at her. And I’d say everything right.”

  “Like what?” she asked. “Come on, Rams. Try me.”

  I leaned toward her. “Look, you don’t want that. You’re doing your own thing right now. And normally that would piss me off. I’d walk away. But I have to be honest, darling, I respect it. You’re short but tough. I can see that from a mile away. It keeps catching my attention. So here I am. You have my attention. And I’m sure there’s attention of mine I can give you…”

  Jordyn swallowed hard.

  There was a pause between us.

  That part was unplanned.

  I cleared my throat and placed her hand on her lap.

  “And then I’d sneak a kiss,” I said.

  “What?”

  “That’s my normal,” I said. “You asked for it.”

  “Oh. Right. Everything you said…” She shook her head. “Sorry.”

  “You got caught up in it. I bet I could have kissed you right then.”

  “Not a chance. I would have slapped you.”

  I inched at her again and she lifted her left hand.

  “That’s tempting,” I whispered. “Is the kiss worth the slap?”

  “Are you brave enough to find out?” she asked.

  I laughed. I leaned away from her and exhaled a breath that came from way deep within my chest.

  Goddamn… she is very intriguing…

  “Okay,
I told you another secret of mine. What’s going on with your kid and his father?”

  “You say that so casually.”

  “As opposed to what? Accusing you of something wrong?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. It just feels like this thing… I always have to worry about it.”

  “Well, now you don’t. I know you have a son. Your son is with his father this weekend. Which means I won’t get to see you again for two weeks.”

  “Oh, really? You’re that confident?”

  “You’re the one who texted me.”

  “You stalked me at my job.”

  “I didn’t stalk you, darling,” I said. “I had a meeting.”

  “Which you didn’t attend.”

  “I let my uncle handle it,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “He doesn’t have much time left, you know?”

  “Wow. That’s really nice to say.”

  “I’m joking. Plus, Wendy told me where you worked.”

  “Wendy. That bitch.”

  “Yup.”

  “She could never keep her mouth shut.”

  “In more than one way,” I said.

  Jordyn looked at me, eyes wide. “What?”

  “Not me,” I said. “I just heard things. Don’t act like you didn’t either.”

  “Whatever. I don’t have time for anyone else’s love life.”

  “Focus on your own,” I said. “That’s smart.”

  “Focus?” She laughed. “I need glasses to focus on…”

  She caught the rest of her words.

  I put my left hand flat to the porch and leaned toward her again. “Go ahead, finish that sentence. I liked where it was going.”

  “Oh, no, no, no,” she said. “You don’t get to do that.”

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “Play the sexual hero card.”

  “Sexual hero?” I asked. “That’s new for me.”

  “Well, what are you doing then?”

  “I’m sitting here, talking to you. Like you wanted to do. Get pissed at me if you want, but you’re not crying anymore.”

  “I’ll give you that much,” she said.

  “Maybe a little more…”

  I took away more space between us. She briefly bit her bottom lip.

  With my right hand, I touched her jaw again, slowly smiling.