by Sophia Henry
High school sucks.
“Maaaamma!” Holden called from the living room. “Where my daddy?”
“No clue,” I mumbled to myself, but to Holden I responded, “He’ll be here soon, buddy.” I’m sure it fell on deaf ears, because all I could hear from the living room were the sounds of my son smashing monster trucks against the wall.
How could Mom hear the TV with all that racket?
Just then, the doorbell rang, and I silently thanked the magical parenting powers that be for being on my side—for once.
“Are you kidding me?” I snapped as I jerked open the door, finally allowing years of frustration to come out. No more holding back. Tim deserved my wrath.
Jason took a step back, his eyes wide with surprise. “Geez, Indie, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think.” He glanced backward toward his massive truck in the driveway. “I promise I’ll never drop in unexpectedly again.”
“I’m, um, oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.” Great. The first time I allow my pent-up anger at Tim out, it’s not even Tim at the door.
“Is it a bad time?” Jason shoved his hands in his pockets.
If Jason thought I was a raging bitch before, that greeting just solidified my freak-show status.
Poor guy looked like I was going to bite his head off and swallow it whole. Though someone whose job involved subduing crazy women swinging frying pans in domestic disputes shouldn’t be so surprised. “It’s so rainy and dreary out there today. I wondered if Holden might want to go see a movie.”
“Really?” I asked, pushing my glasses up my nose. My ugly, old, black-framed glasses, which I wore only at home, when I was drinking my coffee and cleaning. I must look like a horrible nerd.
“Yeah. I’d really like to spend some time with him. Get to know him. We can hang out. You can have a minute to yourself.”
“I, um, I don’t know.” I hesitated, dumbfounded by his kindness, but also a bit freaked out at the request.
I thought I’d get the brush-off after how we left things at the end of our date, which is why his unannounced visit and thoughtful request had taken me totally off my game.
It’s not that I didn’t trust Jason, especially with how amazing he was with Holden. I wasn’t used to letting my son go anywhere with anyone except my mom or brother. And now Tim.
Jason continued. “But if you guys have plans, we can do it another time. No big deal.”
“No.” I paused to get my bearings. “That’s really sweet. Thank you.” I took a step back, remembering my manners. “Come on in, please.”
“Thanks.” Jason crossed the threshold and his eyes immediately darted around the house. The cop in him, always on guard. “I wanted to spend some one-on-one time to get to know him better and give you some time to chill out.”
“Really?” I asked again. The situation seemed so surreal, I had a hard time believing it.
Jason asking to take Holden to a show so I could have a day to myself sounded more delicious than the chocolate-covered-bacon dessert at Peak City.
“Is that okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I reached out and put a hand on his arm. “That would be great. Thank you. Sorry, I’m just surprised.”
“I like to surprise you.” Jason winked.
And I melted. Then I remembered Tim and his plans for Holden today.
“Tim’s supposed to pick up Holden for a basketball game,” I said.
“Oh, well, no worries. We can do it another time,” Jason told me. “When are they going?”
“He’s two hours late.” I rolled my eyes.
“Oh.”
“Ya know what? To hell with Tim. I’m so sick of this. Holden has been waiting all morning. He deserves to do something fun. You can take him to the movies.”
“Are you sure? I—I don’t want to step on any toes.” Jason looked behind him toward the door he came through as if Tim would magically appear. Fat chance.
“No, I really think you should take him. He’d love it. I’ll deal with Tim. If he ever shows up.”
Truthfully, I was more comfortable with Jason taking Holden than I was with Tim taking him. Which sounded so sad. Even though he was Holden’s dad, I barely knew Tim anymore. And I didn’t like the person I did know.
“You’re sure?” Jason asked.
I nodded and called to my son. “Hey, Holden!”
“You look cute.” Jason reached out and pinched my side.
My hand darted to the loose, sloppy bun on top of my head. “I wasn’t expecting—”
Before I could finish, Jason leaned in and placed a quick kiss on my lips. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Daddy!” Holden stormed in, arm raised, swooping Heatwave the Firefighter Rescue Bot through the air. The poor robot’s head missed decapitation-by-dining-room-table by less than an inch. “Where my daddy?”
“Daddy’s not here, buddy. But Jason wants to take you to a movie. Does that sound fun?”
Without answering, Holden ran up and threw his arms around Jason’s shins. “My friend. He my friend.”
“So you want to go to the movies with Jason?” I asked.
“I bring Heatwave?” Holden’s eyes narrowed as if he were afraid I might say no. “I bring Heatwave, Mama?”
“Of course you can bring Heatwave. He’s gotta be there in case someone needs to be rescued.” I waved my hand toward the hallway. “Grab your backpack. It’s hanging up on the hook in the closet.”
“Heatwave?” Jason asked as Holden left us in the dust.
Literally. I would have corralled the dirt and dust bunnies under the fridge before Jason got there, had I known he was coming.
“Transformers Rescue Bots. I thought you had little brothers.” I winked.
“They just turned twelve. Might be out of the Rescue Bot phase.”
“Ahhh, probably.” I grabbed my coffee cup from the counter and took a sip. “There’s diapers, wipes, and a change of clothes in the backpack.”
“I thought he was potty trained?” Jason asked.
“He is,” I said quickly, then added, “I always bring it in case of an accident.”
Like any three-year-old, Holden had accidents despite being potty trained. Especially when he was excited or doing something he didn’t want to stop doing.
“Got it.” Jason nodded. “Oh! Almost forgot. Here you go.” He held out the keys to his truck.
I hesitated before taking them. Why was he giving me his keys?
“I thought we’d just switch vehicles,” Jason said slowly, almost as if it were a question. “So we didn’t have to transfer Holden’s car seat? I know those are a hassle to get in and out.”
Duh. Car seat. What was it about Jason that made me lose my freaking mind whenever he was around?
“Yes. Car seat, of course.” I grabbed his keys. Then I set my coffee cup on the counter and dug in the basket next to the refrigerator for mine. “Glad you’re thinking this morning. Can I get you something? Coffee? Water?”
“Sure, I’ll—” Before Jason could finish his sentence, Holden raced past him and out the door. “Never mind. I’m good.”
He took the keys and turned to follow Holden. Before he walked away, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and handed me an envelope. “I’m not telling you what to do with your free time, but I got this for you.”
I studied the front and turned it over to check the back, but both were plain white. When I looked up, Jason had already left, shutting the door behind him so quietly I never noticed.
Without hesitation, I ripped open the envelope and pulled out a rectangular postcard. I lifted my fingertips to my mouth as I scanned the words. A gift certificate to a local salon for a manicure and pedicure.
My stomach dropped. Like the frightening, yet euphoric, descent from the highest peak of a roller coaster.
I’d never had a guy do something so sweet and thoughtful just for me. Something that didn’t involve him. I barely remembered what having a minute to myself even meant. Does any mom kno
w what that is?
“Hey, Mom!” I called into the living room where I assumed she was still watching TV.
“Yeah?” she answered.
I turned on the faucet and started rinsing the dishes in the sink. “You’re off tonight, right?”
“Yep.”
“Can you watch Holden?” I reached down to load a plate into the dishwasher. After my spa day, I’d give Jason a surprise of my own, by whisking him away on an impromptu date.
“Nope.”
“Thanks,” I answered automatically. I’d loaded a few more dishes before realizing my mistake. “Wait. What?”
“Sorry, baby. I can’t watch him tonight,” Mom confirmed.
“Okay.” A flash of selfish anger rocked me and I almost dropped the cup I’d been rinsing.
The anger was quickly replaced by shame.
How could I be angry? Mom already did her time as a single mom. She’d even done another round, standing by my side when I chose to have Holden and raise him while working and going to school. She’d solidified her status as the best mom (and grandmother) ever by scheduling her own work around the nights I would be at Peak City.
She didn’t have to help me. She didn’t have to take care of Holden. But she did, and she never complained. I took her help for granted and relied on her way too much.
Wonder if Mom had a hot date with Kelso? She rarely said no when I asked for help. Though I’d asked more since meeting Jason than I had in all the rest of Holden’s three years on earth. I knew I relied on my family too much for babysitting, but it had worked all this time.
Before I had a life.
My amazing mother and brother were the reason I still lived at home. Some people think of moving out of the house as a rite of passage. And I would love to be one of those people someday. But without Mom, Damien, and the rent-free living situation, I’d never be able to save up to afford my own place.
Plus, I don’t think Mom was ready to be an empty nester yet. As a senior in high school, Damien would be leaving home soon. And when I finished school, I’d be looking for a place, as well. Mom is a people person. She has an active social life and needs to be around people, so I know she loves having me and D here.
I felt bad that my little brother had taken on so much responsibility for my kid. But I was also grateful. And because of his maturity and sense of responsibility to me and Holden, I’d never let Damien miss out on anything—not sports, not school. I paid for his hockey program. I bought his equipment. And Mom and I split his traveling costs if he needed to go out of town for a tournament.
Now that I’d added dating to the mix, I should probably ask D if he had any friends who might want to pick up extra money babysitting tonight.
A knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts and I flipped my phone back onto the counter.
“Hey, Indie. Is Holden ready?” Tim asked when I opened the door.
I looked down at my wrist, though I hadn’t worn a watch since the one Tim gave me when we’d started dating. “You’re more than two hours late.”
“Yeah.” He leaned back and fidgeted with the brim of the worn brown baseball hat on his head. “Sorry about that. Got caught up.”
“Holden’s not here.”
“What do you mean he’s not here?” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and his upper body seemed to sway slightly. “I said I’d take him today.”
I folded my arms across my chest and stood up straight, preparing for battle. “Well, you’re late and I didn’t hear from you. So I let a friend take him to a movie.”
Tim glanced to his right and balled his fists at the side. When he looked at me again, I noticed his glassy eyes peeking out from under his ball cap.
“What are you trying to pull, Indie?” he asked, leaning toward me. His entire body heaved with each breath he took.
So did mine.
“I’m not trying to pull anything.” I stepped back again and put a hand on the door, ready to scurry inside and slam it in his face. “I’m just letting you know that I need to get on with my life. I have responsibilities. I can’t wait around until you’re ready.”
“This is bullshit.” Tim leaned in, face flushed and nostrils flared. “He’s my kid, too, Indie. You can’t keep me from him. I’m supposed to have time with him.”
“Like you give a crap about your time with him.” I clenched the door, my fingers turning as red as Tim’s fat face.
“You’re a bitch, Indie. Just wait until our next court session.” He took a step back and turned around.
Instead of responding, I slammed the door and leaned back against it. The knob dug into my lower back every time my heaving breaths shook my body. My heart ached as anger and fear coursed through me.
Just wait until our next court session.
Ever since Tim came home from university and demanded time with Holden, I’d been keeping track of every time he’d been late. Every time he’d missed a visit. Every time he showed up drunk. So I had a few things to say at our next court appearance, too, buddy boy.
Once my breathing slowed and my heart stopped flipping out, I stepped away from the door. Then I turned around and flipped the lock.
Just in case.
Chapter 21
Jason
It’d been a while since I hung around a three-year-old. My youngest brothers, Calvin and Nate, were eight when my parents adopted them. And most of the kids we’d taken in through the years were a little bit older—usually five and up.
So I totally forgot that a three-year-old might not sit through a movie. Even if it’s the hottest new movie that every kid wants to see, and won’t stop talking about until they do.
Three-year-olds don’t give a fuck.
So instead of watching the movie, I spent the afternoon chasing Holden around the theater lobby, then back into the theater to watch the movie for five minutes, getting popcorn, going to the bathroom, playing the claw arcade game, getting raisins and M&M’s, going back into the theater, and stopping him from knocking down a huge cardboard advertisement.
Rinse and repeat.
After an hour and a half of that, I kinda wanted to take a nap. But Holden didn’t, so I took him to a park.
“I climb up!” Holden announced, hanging on to the rails and climbing up the stairs of the slide.
The movies had seemed like the best bet on a typically cold and dreary Michigan winter day. Dark clouds loomed above and it looked like it would pour at any moment.
“Sit down,” I called up to him. He didn’t. “Holden, sit! On your a—” I stopped myself. “Booty. Sit on your booty to go down the slide.”
“Booty!” He laughed, but thankfully he dropped to his bottom and slid down. When his feet touched the ground, he took off toward the exit.
I ran after him. “Holden! Wait!”
I wasn’t really worried about not being able to catch up to him, because, ya know, he’s three, how fast can he go?
But just as I closed in, he stopped and squatted down. “Booty drop!”
I tried to stop, but it was too late. To avoid running right into the kid, I leaped up and hurdled him. As awesome as I’m sure the high jump looked to the five other people in the park, I did not stick my landing. Instead, I ate pavement, falling face-first onto the sidewalk path we’d been running on before rolling into a patch of wood chips. Thankfully, I’d thrown out my hands to break my fall, so my face stayed woodchip-free.
I twisted onto my side and sat up. Then I brushed wood chips off my fleece pullover. No harm done. Holden ran up to me and put his tiny hand on my shoulder.
“Okay, Jason? Okay?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern.
“Yeah, buddy.” I smiled. “I’m okay.”
He removed his hand and held it out to me. “I help.”
I took his hand and let him “help” me up, though I did most of the work. The thoughtfulness of the toddler sent a pang through my chest.
“That was really nice, buddy. Thank you.”
And just then, the sky opened up and the rain came down hard and fast, drenching us both within seconds. I scooped Holden up and ran for the shelter of the car.
“It raining! It pouring!” Holden laughed like a maniac as I carried him.
Holden giggled as I unlocked Indie’s car and waited in the pouring rain for him to climb in. “I booty drop you!”
“What does that mean? What is booty drop?” I asked as I helped him into his car seat.
But three-year-olds don’t answer questions when you try to strap them into a car seat. They just arch their back and thrash around while you stand outside the car getting more drenched.
“Holden. Let me—” I started, but he just wiggled and turned and flipped so his butt faced out instead of in the bucket part of his car seat. “Really, dude?”
“I no sit.”
“How are we going to get home?” I asked. “I can’t drive if you aren’t strapped in.”
He wiggled his butt in response.
Awesome.
My Scare ’Em Straight training flashed through my head. “Want me to take you to jail? If you don’t get buckled, I’ll have to take you to jail.”
“No jail!” Holden’s voice was muffled, since his face was buried in the back of the car seat, but there was no doubt the kid was laughing at me. And still shaking his butt.
Of course that didn’t work, dumb-ass. Toddlers don’t understand the concept of jail.
“Dude.” I wiped rain off my face as I racked my brain for a way to get him to listen. Bribery. Bribes work with kids. “Hey, buddy, you wanna stop and get a Slurpee before we go home?”
He stopped shaking his booty and turned in his seat. “We get Slurpee?” he asked with wide eyes, cocking his head slightly as if he didn’t believe me.
“Yep.”
And just like that, he settled into his seat and let me buckle him in.
Bribery. Works every time.
True to my word, we stopped at 7-Eleven and got Slurpees before I took Holden home. Between the amount of sugar in the M&M’s and soda he’d had at the movie theater, and the bonus sugar in the Slurpee, this kid was sure to crash this afternoon. For Indie’s sake, I hope he still took naps.
