by A. M. Kusi
“I know you felt unsure about getting into a relationship when it was just me. Now I have an instant family. I understand if you just want to keep this as nothing more than friendship. I also don’t expect you to do this for free,” he said, direct and to the point as usual.
“Is that what you want? Do you only want to be friends?” she asked, her chest tightening.
“That’s the last thing I want,” he admitted. “But it’s unfair to you that the kids are now my priority. With everything going on, I feel like I need to put whatever this is between us on hold for a little while. I understand if it’s too much. I don’t expect you to wait.”
How could she not fall a little harder for him? He was choosing these children’s needs above his own, showing true sacrifice. His actions proved time and time again that he was a man of his word. Something in her heart snapped open, stirring, tangling with her appreciation, growing inside the well of her chest.
“I understand what you’re saying. I’m not going to lie—this is a lot for me, but I want to be here with you, for you. I have a feeling you’re worth all the complications.” She couldn’t walk away from him now. Seeing the virtue of the man that would lay down his life for those he loved, sacrificing so much, only solidified her desire for him.
He looked at her as if she was the most precious thing in the whole world. She wanted to kiss him so badly her lips tingled. She licked them, trying to quell the need that had built between Ethan and her.
“If you try to pay me, I’ll spend it on the kids. I don’t need your money. I am just happy to be doing something that brings me joy and makes me feel useful.”
“Isa,” he sighed.
“You can pay me back by taking care of yourself.”
Chapter 18
Over the next few days, Ethan came home to a clean house with various art projects hung on the walls and refrigerator. Even Max had gotten in on the action with finger paints. Joy had started waking up with nightmares, so he had taken to sleeping on the floor in her room. The juggle of work and parenthood was taking its toll.
Isa began showing up in a black SUV with two car seats rather than the Mercedes she’d used the first couple of days. He came home to something newly baked every day: sugar cookies, brownies, and cupcakes. Isa texted pictures of their adventures. She took them to the park and the children’s museum. He was grateful she was so good with kids. It allowed him to focus on his job without having to worry too much.
His mother called every day to check in, and each conversation went the same way.
“Kwasi.” She used his Ghanaian name for a boy born on Sunday, as if he needed yet another reminder of his culture.
“Yes, Mama?”
“You need to call Abby’s friends to help with the kids. They will know how to take care of them properly.” Because, of course, Isa wasn’t fit in her eyes.
“I’ve got it covered for now. Isa has volunteered and she has the time available. The kids are as happy as they can be. She’s keeping them busy.”
“Well, I’ll reach out to your sister’s circle at the funeral and see what they can do.”
Ethan understood her worries, but he liked coming home to a hot meal and Isa’s face every night. It was the one thing that got him through the day.
He was on his way home when his phone rang.
“Hello?” he said, putting it on speaker so he could drive.
“Hey, bro. I just wanted to call and check in,” River said.
“Thanks.”
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” his friend asked.
“I don’t think so. I’m good. I’ve got everything under control.” The words burned his throat.
“Well, if you need anything, let me know. Ella found a great online support group for people who have experienced loss. She said it has really helped her work through her grief after losing Mac. I’ll send you the link.”
“Okay, sure. Look, I gotta go. Driving home now,” Ethan said, not comfortable talking about it anymore.
“Sure. I’ll see you at the funeral. Bye.”
Ethan clicked to end the call. He knew River was only trying to be a good friend. Jax had sent him a similar text. He felt angry nonetheless. Why did everyone think his grief was their business? Didn’t they realize he could handle this on his own?
He pulled into the driveway behind the black SUV and his anger boiled over. He couldn’t even afford to get a decent-sized family car to tote the kids around in. His Toyota was small, barely able to fit two car seats and not much else in the back. They could make do for a while, but it wasn’t the most comfortable form of transport. Not only that, but his fridge and cupboards had magically sprouted food over the past few days. He’d meant to stop and get groceries, but he’d forgotten. And then she had already done it. He just had so much to do. Food was one more thing on his plate that he needed to take care of. He appreciated her help, but he wasn’t a charity case.
Ethan grabbed his bag and stalked towards the house, irritation bubbling inside him as he reached for the door.
The smell of pizza hit him as soon as he walked in. He set his bag down and looked around, stunned for a minute. He had noticed a few things starting to appear in his house, like pillows for the couch, candles on the table, and toys and activities for the kids. Today it was like walking into a new home. Pictures hung on the wall. A fall leaf-themed tablecloth decorated his circular table, along with candles in a wooden centerpiece. New grey and navy blue pillows were on his couch and an additional chair that had never been there before sat in the living area. Little additions and touches were everywhere, in every single room he glanced at. She had decorated. Who did she think she was?
He hung up his leather jacket and stomped upstairs. He peeked in Max’s room and it too had been redone into a bumblebee yellow-black-and-white-themed room. He opened Joy’s bedroom door to find unicorns dancing along the walls, bookshelves filled with stories, a toy box, a dollhouse, and her name hung in pink triangular flags over her bed. All these flourishes were also new, although amongst them were her own things that she’d brought from her old house.
They weren’t in the bathroom, so he went to his room to get changed. He glanced out the rear window. They were playing in the backyard on a swing set that hadn’t been there when he’d left this morning. He clenched his jaw and balled his fists, anger radiating through every pore of his body. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself before walking down to the kitchen.
Isa came in with the kids a moment later, all smiles. “Oh, you’re home!”
“Uncle Ethan! Look at my hair,” Joy announced with a proud grin, showing off her top missing teeth.
Her hair had been styled into two Dutch braids. “You look beautiful, J,” he said, avoiding Isa.
“Isa took me to a salon. They did my hair and painted my toes pink! Then we got a pretty dress for me and some stuff for Max. Did you see my room?” She jumped up and down excitedly.
He didn’t want to disappoint her, so he plastered a smile on his face and said, “Yeah, J. I did. That’s awesome. I’m glad you had a good day.”
“Dinner is ready,” Isa said, buckling a drooling Max into a high chair. She went to the oven and pulled out a large homemade pizza.
“I helped make dinner!” Joy announced proudly.
Isa began to slice the pizza, but his hand reached out to still her.
“I can do it. Why don’t you go sit down and relax?” she said.
“No, I got it,” he snapped.
She flinched and backed away. “Should I go? Or did you want help with their bath?”
“I can do it. I am not incapable!” he shouted.
Joy and Max both turned to look at him, shock on their faces.
Disappointed in himself, he hung his shoulders in shame. He should have been doing all he could to set them at ease and make their
life as calm as possible during this time, not giving them another reason to worry.
Isa smiled at them and said, “Uncle Ethan is going to get your dinner and then you guys can get in a nice warm bubble bath. How does that sound?”
“Okay,” Joy answered, looking between her and Ethan, unsure.
“I’ll see you guys soon,” she said, giving Joy a high five and Max a kiss on the top of his head.
She looked at Ethan and chewed nervously on her bottom lip before whispering, “Get them their food and come talk to me outside. I’ll wait.”
He nodded and opened the cupboard, finding new dishes. It took everything in him not to slam the door closed.
He finished serving the kids dinner and met her outside a few minutes later on the porch.
“Is it something I did?” she asked hesitantly.
He rubbed his hand over his face and snapped, “Ya think? You can’t just come in here and redecorate my house, buy all this shit, a fucking car, and my groceries. I’m not even paying you. You took her to a salon?”
Isa looked towards the kids, who were happily oblivious and eating their pizza, before speaking. “Is this about money again? Why is everything about money with you?”
“Because I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth! I work hard for every cent I earn. I can provide for my family, but this is all too much.” He hated himself the moment the words left his mouth. He waved his hand at the house. “A swing set?”
Isa’s gaze wavered, and a tear fell down her cheek.
He was an asshole. He shouldn’t be yelling at her like this, but it felt good to let out his frustration in any way he could.
“I hear you. Can I at least explain why I did this?”
“It doesn’t matter why. You overstepped.”
“More pizza!” came a little voice from inside.
He sighed and took another look at her, the damage he’d done evident in her eyes. But it had needed to be said. His stomach knotted, as he returned to the house, leaving her standing alone on the porch.
After he had given Joy her second helping, he went back out to the porch. Isa had gone. Would she be back?
“Uncle Ethan?” Joy asked, as he tucked her into bed later that night.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I made a picture for Mommy and Daddy to take with us tomorrow,” she said, pointing to two small canvases on the small dresser.
“That’s beautiful. How are you feeling about everything?” he asked, stroking her forehead.
“I was feeling really sad today, but Isa took me to get a dress and my hair done for the funeral. She didn’t know how to do my hair. Isa helped me pick out the decorations for my room and said that the unicorns would protect me. And this,” she said, pointing to a feathery object on the wall, “is a dream catcher. She said it will catch all my scary dreams.”
Ethan felt like he had been sucker punched in the stomach. Isa’s reasons for today had been genuinely good intentioned, even though they were too extravagant. Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders.
“How did you guys get all this done while I was at work?” he asked.
“Isa had people come and bring in boxes of stuff. They were really nice. Then some big strong men brought the swing set and put it together for us. Isa said that way we can play all together when you get home from work because you will probably be too tired to take us to a park. Max loves the swings.” She yawned.
“That’s really nice of her,” he said.
“Yeah. Uncle Ethan?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t need you to sleep in here with me tonight. The unicorns will keep me safe. But if you want to stay there is another bed under mine,” she whispered, her eyes drooping closed.
Ethan pulled up the comforter. There was a daybed folded underneath like she’d said. That was why Isa had bought Joy a new bed; it was for him too. Joy must have told her he was sleeping on the floor.
He left her room and walked around the house. Isa had taken the bare bones and made it into a home. She should have talked to him first. He would have paid for it. Sure, it wouldn’t be as fancy on a teacher’s salary, but he could have done something.
Grief crashed over him like a wave, threatening to drown him. He was mad at himself. Furious that his sister and brother-in-law had died because some other driver thought a quick text was more important than watching the road. Most of all, he felt guilty that he was resentful that his life had been turned upside down. And now he had two kids to raise, and he had no fucking idea how he was going to do any of it.
He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and sat at the kitchen table. The one thing he had avoided thinking about all day was finally in the forefront of his mind. Abby and Peter’s funeral was tomorrow and he wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
He opened his laptop. A message from River popped up with the link to the online grief support group. Ethan sighed. He couldn’t decide whether to join or not. One thing was for certain—he wasn’t dealing with this newfound anger well. He needed help. He clicked the link, more out of curiosity than anything else, and got himself another beer.
If he was going to do this, he needed the liquid courage.
Chapter 19
Isa went home, fighting back the tears until she got to her luxury apartment. She walked into the large space, feeling alone and small. The look on Ethan’s face when he’d yelled at her had broken her heart. She had made him feel emasculated—that was clear. She’d been trying to help, and it had all blown up in her face.
Her head was pounding, and her back ached from the long day spent hauling two kids around shopping, as well as organizing and directing the decorators. She yawned, her eyelids growing heavy. Isa was too tired to make herself dinner. She wanted a drink and a bath.
She poured herself a shot of tequila before she sank beneath the hot water. Three more shots and she was ready for bed. She had messed everything up, but she was a little drunk and so tired that she didn’t care. She just wanted to sleep and stop hurting.
The next day went by slowly as she wondered how the kids were holding up at the funeral. It would be a hard day for all of them. Harper had texted her to let her know that Jax and River would be there to support Ethan. Isa spent the day pacing, debating whether she should text him. Should she have gone? He’d never asked her to come. She didn’t want to intrude, but at the same time, shouldn’t she be there to support her boyfriend? Was he still that to her? What did you say to someone going to a funeral? You didn’t wish them luck, or a good day.
In the end, she decided not to send a message. He was probably still mad at her. What bothered her was he hadn’t given her a chance to explain, to talk it out. She gave him the benefit of the doubt. She knew that stress and grief had to be underneath all that anger.
She chewed on her nail, glancing at the clock. The day was gone, replaced by night. She changed into a silk pajama top and matching shorts. She stared at the city lights from one of the floor-to-ceiling windows in her high-rise apartment. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly as the heaviness of despair gripped her.
Isa went to bed early, deciding to shut out her miserable day.
Her phone rang, waking her from her short sleep. She jumped from the noise and glanced at the screen. Eleven o’clock.
She winced at the light before accepting the call. “Ethan?”
Crying and screaming filled the phone before Ethan’s exasperated and desperate voice answered. She could barely hear him over the kids’ banshee-like shrills, but it sounded like he said, “I need you. I need help.”
“I’m coming.” She jumped out of bed. Slipping her boots on, she didn’t bother wasting time in search of socks. Isa grabbed a coat and her purse before running out the door.
All the lights were on in the house as she pulled into his driveway. She ran in, not bothering t
o knock.
Ethan was sitting on the couch with both kids screaming in his arms. His shirt was wrinkled and the top few buttons were undone. He was still wearing dress pants. His eyes were bloodshot and his expression defeated.
He hadn’t even heard her come in. She went to him and placed her hand on his knee, which jerked at her touch.
“Y-you’re here. You came,” he said, almost as if he didn’t believe she was real.
“Of course I came. You needed me,” she said over the children crying.
He averted his eyes, as though he were ashamed.
“Take Max to his room and rock him. I’m sure his sister’s cries are bothering him,” she said.
He stood, holding the little boy against him, and nodded. “He won’t eat. I ran out of Abby’s breastmilk that she had stored in the freezer. He won’t take the formula,” he explained.
Joy still clung to his leg, crying. Isa had an idea and grabbed her phone before texting Harper.
Isa: 911. I need some of that golden booby juice brought to Ethan’s like an hour ago.
Isa leaned down and picked up Joy, then walked upstairs to the bathroom. She ran a bath, added some bubbles, and set her down, hoping this would help reset her.
She knew there were no words to help this overtired and heartbroken little girl. Isa wasn’t one for lies. She couldn’t tell a child that her daddy and mommy were taken by a mythical man in the sky for some big reason that they would never understand, because she didn’t believe it.
In the bath, Isa squeezed the washcloth over Joy’s little shoulders and wiped her tear-stained snotty face.
She began to sing.
“Hush now, my baby bee. Be still, love, don’t cry.
Sleep as you’re rocked in my arms.
Sleep and slumber. Your buzzing day is over.
Sleep next to me, in this big honey tree.
Sleep next to me, my sweet honey bee.”
Joy’s crying stopped, and her breathing slowed. She sucked in quiet sobs as Isa wrapped her in a towel and carried her to her room before changing her into pajamas. Isa took a blanket from the bed, wrapped Joy in it, and sat in the rocking chair. She repeated the song and rubbed the little girl’s forehead, tracing her profile, until she was fast asleep. She gave the child everything she’d needed when she lost her brother, but never got. Then she transferred Joy to the bed and tucked her in.
