6+ Us Makes Eight_Baby Makes Three

by Nicole Elliot

  It made it sick to my stomach.

  “Come on! Let’s go!” Zoey said.

  “Zoey, wait!”

  She pulled the door to the restaurant open and everyone was looking at me with an odd reaction. I was on display. Being judged. Mocked. Questioned. Like I had been in high school. I ushered everyone into the restaurant and we were quickly seated, but not before I caught Zoey running up to her uncle. Ryan looked shocked as his eyes lifted to mine, and I could see something there that I’d never seen before.

  Hesitancy.

  Damn it.

  I let it happen again.

  “Zoey, come here,” I said as I walked up to her. “You can’t just run off like that. I’m responsible for you during the day.”

  “But it’s Uncle Ryan,” she said.

  “Uncle Ryan?” the woman asked.

  “Um. Yeah. Yes. Layla, this is my niece, Zoey,” Ryan said.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Layla said.

  Layla with the red lips.

  “And who is this?”

  Her voice ripped me from my trance and I shook my head.

  “Miss Emma. I’m Zoey’s teacher,” I said.

  “Aren’t you going to say ‘hi’ to Uncle Ryan?” Zoey asked.

  My eyes whipped over to Ryan and I could see him searching for an appropriate reaction.

  “Hello, Mr. Aaron,” I said.

  His brow ticked with confusion and the woman cleared her throat.

  “Mr. Aaron. Well, that sounds innocent enough, doesn’t it?” Layla asked.

  “Why wouldn’t it be innocent?” I asked.

  “I figured with the way Ryan became so flustered in your presence that maybe you were a love interest.”

  “No,” I said as my eyes fell to Zoey. “I’m not.”

  “She’s just the teacher,” he said.

  Wow. ‘Just the teacher’. Even my heartbreak from college wasn’t that cruel. I felt the breath being sucked from my lungs as I stood there beside the two of them. It was easy to look at Layla and see why he preferred her. Why he would take a chance with her and keep me as some sort of side woman. But I wasn’t sticking around to see how this played out. I knew what was going on and the last thing I needed was to be caught in the middle of another college memory. I gathered Zoey in my arms and carried her so she couldn’t get away again and quickly retreated from the moment.

  I whipped around the corner to where everyone else was sitting before Ryan’s voice caught my ear.

  “Emma!”

  “Zoey, you are to never do that again,” I said as I crouched down. “You stay with me, no matter who you see. You are not your uncle’s responsibility during the day. If something would’ve happened to you-”

  “I’m sorry,” Zoey said.

  I kissed the little girl on the forehead as a pair of feet landed quickly behind me. I scooted Zoey off to go sit and one of the parents took her. I turned around and saw Ryan towering over me, his eyes full of confusion and panic.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Could we talk for a second?” he asked.

  “No,” I said plainly.

  “Please? This isn’t what it looks like.”

  “What does it look like?” I asked.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  Typical. A man wanted to apologize, but not admit to anything.

  “Layla’s a-”

  “It’s none of my business,” I said.

  “No. Emma. She’s only-”

  “I have a field trip I still have to chaperone. The kids are hungry, and quite frankly I am as well.”

  “Just a teacher?” he asked.

  My heart fell to my toes, but I kept my outer demeanor calm.

  “Yes,” I said. “Just a teacher.”

  “So… that’s it? You won’t even let me explain?”

  I looked back at the kids and saw the parents staring at me with a curious glance.

  “That’s it,” I said. “It’s over.”

  Ryan looked as if I’d slapped him across the face.

  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a day to salvage.”

  Then I turned my back, walked away, and went to sit down beside Zoey.

  I was hungry, and I needed something to distract myself.

  Eighteen

  Ryan

  I’d been kicking myself for days. Fuck! Just the teacher? What the hell had I been thinking? Nothing. I wasn't thinking anything. I’d been caught off guard when Zoey rushed up to my side. I wanted to keep my personal life separate from the media. From the tabloids. Layla Patterson was the most ruthless journalist in the state, but she had a way of turning stories in my favor if I greased her palms enough. She had been looking for a story. Nothing more. Questioning me on why my life had been so quiet. And it wasn’t any of her damn business why my life had been quiet. I’d taken on three kids and given my heart to a wonderful woman. But that wasn’t her business. The last thing I needed was her twisting things into an unfavorable light.

  Or worse, dragging my sister through the mud more.

  I always kept my enemies close. That was how I controlled the narrative of the media. When I wanted to be a party boy, I made sure those stories dropped into her hands. They helped with the persona my hotels took on. But there were consequences to dancing with the devil, and part of that consequences was also having my dates picked apart. She analyzed every feature of them. What they wore. How they looked. Their body type. Their jewelry. Their lip texture. All of it.

  Emma didn’t deserve to be picked apart like that in the public eye. She was different.

  Special.

  And she’d completely misunderstood what was going on.

  The worst part was that I knew exactly what she was thinking. That I was like that idiot in college that broke her heart. Running around behind her back and cheating on her or some shit. Yes, I made a huge mistake introducing Emma as ‘just the teacher’. But it was to protect her. She had no idea who Zoey had run up on. She had no idea who I’d been sitting with at that table.

  “When Miss Emma coming back over?” Benjamin asked.

  “Yeah. She promised she’d bake another cake with us,” Hunter said.

  “Can we call her?” Zoey asked.

  “I don’t think Miss Emma’s feeling well right now, kids.”

  “But she seemed okay at school today,” Zoey said.

  I tried to keep the kids at bay and occupied after school, but I knew they were missing Emma. I was missing Emma. And every once in a while, I tried calling her. Texting her. Leaving her a voicemail. I tried all hours of the day and night, hoping she would pick up out of sheer anger at that point. Anything to get her on the phone to explain who Layla really was.

  But she wasn’t returning anything.

  “Can we watch a movie?” Benjamin asked.

  “Can we see if Miss Emma will come over?” Hunter asked.

  “Please?” Zoey asked.

  “Here, Benjamin. Take the remote and pick out a movie,” I said as I heard my phone ring. “I’ll try to get Emma on the phone.”

  “Yeah!” Zoey exclaimed.

  I couldn't scramble down the hallway fast enough. My cell phone was ringing, and it wasn’t the tone I had set for work. My hand fell onto it on the kitchen island and I picked it up without looking. It had to be Emma. It needed to be.

  I didn’t know what I was going to do if it wasn’t.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “Mr. Aaron. It’s me.”

  “Mr. Ford?”

  I held the phone out from my ear and groaned when the words ‘Family Lawyer’ showed up on my screen.

  “How can I help you?” I asked.

  “I have some news regarding your sister,” he said.

  I leaned against the kitchen counter and furrowed my brow.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “There have been some developments.”

  “What kind of… developments?”

  “You’re
aware that Valentina was transferred from the hospital to a rehab program about a week ago.”

  “No, actually. I wasn’t. Despite me having the kids, no one seems to keep me in the loop,” I said.

  “Ah. Well, she was. But when I came into my office this morning, I had an interesting stack of paperwork slid under my door.”

  “Can you cut to the chase?” I asked. “The kids are wanting to watch a movie and I’m kind of ready to wind down with one.”

  “Then prepare yourself for many more movie nights to come.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Ryan, your sister relapsed and dropped out of her rehab program.”

  “Again,” I said.

  “Yes. I’m not sure of the details. You’ll have to call your mother, I’m sure. All I know is that I’m looking at a stack of papers that hands over full custody of her children to you.”

  I felt my knees grow weak.

  “What?” I asked.

  “She’s signed them and everything, Mr. Aaron. Full custody of Zoey, Hunter, and Benjamin shall be awarded to one, Ryan Aaron.”

  “Temporarily, right?” I asked.

  “No, sir. Indefinitely.”

  I slowly turned my head and gazed down the hallway. I could see the kids’ shadows dancing along the floor as they all curled up on the couch. What the fuck had my sister done? Was she insane?

  “There’s a note here addressed to you.”

  “Uh… a what?” I asked, ripping myself from my trance.

  “A note. I’m assuming it’s from Valentina.”

  “Can you open it and read it to me?” I asked.

  “Are you sure you want me to do that?”

  “She just pawned her kids off on her brother. I’m not sure there’s anything that could be worse than that.”

  “Yes, sir. Give me a second to get it open.”

  I heard paper ripping on the other end of the line. The emotions tearing through my body weren’t quite what I expected. I wasn’t scared. Or terrified. Or even upset.

  In a way, I was relieved.

  Shocked, but relieved.

  “Ready?”

  “Go ahead,” I said.

  “Ryan. I know things with us haven’t always been good. And I know things with me have never been good. I tried my best with my family, but I’m broken.”

  I closed my eyes as the lawyer took a pause.

  “Keep going,” I said.

  “My children are everything to me, and one thing that stuck with me is that I have to do what’s best for them. I don’t know if I’ll ever get better. I don’t know if I’ll ever want to prioritize pills over my children. I know that sounds terrible. Believe me, I do. But I’ve tried to get sober for them, and it never works. I have to want to get sober for me, and deep down, I don’t want that yet.”

  I choked down my tears as my lawyer continued to read.

  “I know you’ll take care of my kids. You always have. I see you going down the same path I’m traveling. Just with alcohol and not pills. I can’t take care of them, Ryan. I can’t give my kids the parent they need. But I know you can. You have been. I haven’t seen your face or your antics in the tabloids for weeks now. You’re capable of it. More than I am right now. And if I don’t hand over custody, they’ll eventually be displaced in the system. I know they will be. That can’t happen, Ryan. Those kids, they need each other. They need you.”

  I wiped at my eyes as relief cascaded through my veins. This was happening. Valentina was handing over those beautiful children to me. And I was so thankful, because I’d grown so attached to them. I’d grown to love them in ways I didn’t think myself capable of. I didn’t want to hand them back over to my sister. Even if she had sobered up, the stress of parenting the lot of them would’ve drove her back to the same addiction and they would’ve watched her fall. Again.

  Something a child should never have to see.

  “I know you’re capable of being the parent I can’t be, Ryan. And if there’s one good thing I can do for my children, it’s give them a parent they deserve. That parent isn’t me, Ryan. It’s you. Please, take care of them. Love them. Cherish them. It’s all I can do for them. It’s all I’m capable of doing for them until I fix myself, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be fixed. I don’t know if I am fixable. I love them, and I love you, even though it doesn’t seem like it. Tell them I love them and that, somewhere deep down inside, they really are my world. All my love, Valentina.”

  I drew in a deep breath and wiped at my eyes again. Fuck. This really was happening. My lawyer went silent on the other end of the line and I cleared my throat, trying to put on the strongest facade I could.

  “Thank you for calling,” I said.

  “The only thing I’ll need is your signature on these papers,” Mr. Ford said.

  “That’s fine. Can it wait until after the weekend, though? I’ve got plans with the kids and I’ll want to… talk to them. You know?”

  “Of course it can wait. I’ll contact you on Monday. We can set up a time for you to sign the paperwork.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Ford. I’ll talk to you then.”

  The phone call ended and my body suddenly felt lighter. The kids and I had been hanging in limbo for close to two months, and now we didn’t have to any longer. I set my phone back down onto the counter and walked out into the room, taking in the sight of the kids.

  My kids.

  Benjamin was cuddling Zoey and Hunter was lying with his feet across them body. They were curled up in all sorts of blankets, their eyes entranced by the animated movie on the screen. I leaned against the doorway and grinned, taking in the sight.

  A sight I would see for many years to come if I decided to sign those papers.

  But first, I had to ask them if they wanted to stay. After everything they had been through, the deserved to have input in their own lives.

  “Could I talk with you guys for a second?”

  They all panned their gazes to me before Benjamin paused the movie.

  “Was that Miss Emma?” he asked

  “No, it wasn’t. But I do want to talk with you guys about something,” I said.

  “Is everything okay?” Hunter asked.

  I pushed off the doorway and walked over to the coffee table. I sat down on the edge of it and looked each one of them in their eyes. I hoped they knew how much we all loved them. How much their mother loved them, deep down inside. In a place that hadn’t quite been rattled by her addiction yet.

  “I have a question to ask you guys, and I want your input,” I said.

  “What is it?” Zoey asked.

  “I know you guys have been staying here with me for a while, not really knowing what’s coming next.”

  “What do you mean?” Benjamin asked.

  “Is Mommy okay?” Hunter asked.

  My eyes whipped over to him and I reached out to take his hand.

  “Mommy’s… not the greatest. You know she struggles a lot, right?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Benjamin said. “A lot.”

  “And sometimes, people struggle so much that the only thing they can do is try to protect those around them from their struggles,” I said.

  “What happened with Mommy?” Zoey asked.

  I fell to my knees on the floor and gathered the kids in my arms.

  “How would you guys like to stay here with me?” I asked.

  I felt them cling to me as their little arms wrapped around my neck.

  “For a long time?” Zoey asked.

  “For as long as you want,” I said.

  “Like move in?” Benjamin asked.

  “Like move in,” I said.

  “Does that mean we would, like, live here?” Hunter asked.

  “If you wanted,” I said as I kissed the top of their heads. “If that’s what you want, then yes. You guys can come live with me.”

  “Will we still do Friday pizza nights?” Emma asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Will Miss Emma come over?�
�� she asked.

  I opened my mouth and looked down into Zoey’s eyes, but I didn’t know how to answer her.

  “It’s not pizza night without Miss Emma,” Benjamin said.

  “We like her. Is she gonna live here, too?” Hunter asked.

  “You gotta call her,” Zoey said. “She doesn’t ever miss pizza night.”

  “I know she doesn’t,” I said. “But we’re talking about our family right now. Not Miss Emma.”

  “Miss Emma is our family,” Hunter said.

  I watched Zoey and Benjamin shake their heads and I had no idea how to answer them. I didn’t know what to do. I was ecstatic that they were taking all of this in stride. That they were okay living with me. It was like they weren’t even worried about their mother, and that reality killed my soul. Children who were so far removed for their mother’s antics that it didn’t even phase them that she wasn’t going to be around any longer.

  But they missed Emma.

  The woman who had become like a mother to them.

  “She has to come to pizza night next week,” Zoey said. “Okay?”

  “We aren’t a family without her,” Benjamin said.

  “Yeah. We aren’t,” Hunter said.

  I agreed with them. This place wasn’t the same without her. But what in the world was I supposed to do? She wasn’t returning my calls. She wasn’t answering my requests to meet up. Outside of showing up at her apartment or randomly at her work, which could get me arrested anyway, I was out of options.

  But the kids wanted her. And I wanted her.

  So whatever I had to do to get her back, I would do.

  Nineteen

  Emma

  “Not hungry?” Catherine asked.

  “Yeah. You’re forever eating Rueben sandwiches,” Natasha said.

  “I’m just not feeling well,” I said. “I told you guys that before you dragged me out on a Saturday to have lunch.”

  “You said it was just a headache,” Catherine said. “Is it something else?”

  “Did you eat breakfast this morning?” Natasha asked. “I know you. Three cups of coffee isn’t a viable breakfast. Your blood sugar’s probably low.”

  “No, I didn’t eat breakfast. But it’s not that kind of ‘not feeling well’,” I said.

  “Do you want to leave?” Catherine asked.

  “I’ve got some Tylenol and… oh! There’s that sippy cup,” Natasha said.