Spark

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Spark Page 8

by S. L. Scott


  “She’s pretty like a princess.”

  Staring at the photo, I realize he doesn’t see her as sick; he sees her as his mom. She’s still smiling because he’s there, and he sees that love shining through. Taking the photo, I say, “She’s very pretty just like a princess.” I stand and put the photo on the shelf, propping it up against some of my albums so we can see it. “How’s this spot?”

  He smiles and gives me two thumbs-up.

  I walk back into the kitchen and start the flame on the burner to finish cooking my eggs. “Hey, Alfie?”

  “Yeah?” Leaning back on the couch, he puts his hands behind his head and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, reminding me a lot of Tulsa.

  “I’ll let you take today off since we’re in that transition phase Hannah mentioned, but tomorrow, I think you should go back to school.”

  “I’ll let you take me to the zoo.”

  “You’ll let me?” I laugh. This kid. If I didn’t know better, he could be Tulsa’s kid through and through. “If I take you to the zoo today, you’re going back to school tomorrow.”

  “Oh, man. Bummer.”

  “School is Monday through Friday, buddy. I think it’s good if we get back on schedule.”

  He sighs exasperatedly. “Okay.”

  “But today, we get to have fun. Tell me about this zoo.”

  Bolting upright, he animatedly tells me about the jaguars and hundred-year-old tortoises. How the Austin Zoo is a rehab sanctuary. An hour later, we’re there, and he’s showing me around as he knows the layout by heart. On the train a few hours later, I get a text. Hannah: How’s your first day on the job?

  It’s interesting, or maybe I’m just reading more into it, but she actually seems friendly. Alfie’s lucky to have her in his corner. I reply: The hours are tough, but it’s been a good day.

  And it has. I’ve smiled and laughed more than I have in a long time even though I’ve always thought of myself as a happy guy. With Alfie around, it’s a different kind of happy—his innocence is refreshing. It’s incredible to see the world through his untainted eyes.

  I think this parenting gig is going to work out A-OK. She replies: Good to hear. I noticed you have a show tonight. What are you going to do with Alfie?

  Shit. With all the crazy of the past few days, I had forgotten about tonight. As we roll back into the train terminal, my phone rings. I help Alfie off and answer as I walk through the gate, “You have got to be one of the most impatient women I’ve ever known, and I’ve known a few.”

  “I just bet you have. Anyway, I’d be happy to come hang out with him, stay while you’re gone. I mean, I’m not trying to intrude. It’s not my day with him or anything.”

  “It’s okay. I appreciate the offer.” Checking the time, it’s just past two. “We’re at the zoo right now, but I do need to make arrangements.”

  “You took him to the zoo?”

  I cringe, wondering if I just screwed up by telling her the truth. “I know he’s supposed to be in school and stuff, but—”

  “It’s really thoughtful of you to do that.”

  “He’s been thrown into the care of a stranger.”

  “I spent a lot of time trying to prepare him for it. We talked about you. A lot.”

  “Thank you. He’s been really good. I brought him to the zoo because I thought it would be a good way for us to get to know each other better.”

  “How’s that going?”

  “Like we’ve known each other his whole life.”

  I can only see her in my mind, but the mouth that drew me to her is smiling. “Then it was worth skipping school. Anyway, it’s only one time, but he’ll remember you taking him long after today.”

  “Hope so.”

  “As I was saying, I don’t want to intrude on your day, but if you want, I can make him dinner.”

  “I promised to let him make ramen noodles.” Given I’ll be performing later, I’ll have to eat more before I go on set. Ramen noodles will definitely not be enough by any stretch of the imagination. “You can come over a little early and eat with us. I’d appreciate the help after and I can pay you.”

  The silence stretches between us, and then she says, “You don’t have to pay me to spend time with Alfie. I miss him. Last night and today have been too quiet.”

  Helping me seems to be helping her. Watching him run ahead, I realize wherever he ends up, he’ll be surrounded by love. “He’s lucky to have you. I have to head out by nine, so what time do you want to come over?”

  “He gets hungry early. If you wait too long, he’ll fill up on snacks.”

  “How about six?”

  “I’ll be there. Can I bring anything?”

  I kind of love how at ease she is, as if we might be friends right now. “I don’t have anything to drink but beer, but you’re welcome to it if you want.”

  I’m rewarded with a chuckle. “Thanks. See you later.”

  “See you later.”

  Alfie tugs on my shirt. “Why are you smiling? Is it the birds? They don’t have crows here, but they have peacocks by the snack bar.”

  I don’t even know what this kid is talking about, but he makes me laugh. “C’mon. We need to go to the store before heading home.”

  “Ahhh.”

  “What’s ahhh?”

  “I don’t want to leave.”

  “Hannah’s coming over for dinner.”

  Well, that turned his frown upside down. Cocking an eyebrow, I nudge him as we walk toward the exit. “What’s with that grin on your face?”

  “Hannah’s coming over. Figured that’s why you were smiling too.”

  With a peacock in sight, he runs ahead to get a closer look. “Look, Jet!”

  “Awesome, little dude.” My smile remains long after he’s left my side. If I’m being honest, he’s right. I am smiling because Hannah’s coming over. But looking at this kid with skinny knee-knockers, a head full of wild hair, and better insight than most adults I know, it stays.

  9

  Hannah

  Jet Crow . . . Good lord, that man.

  I’ve lost so much time in memories of him. It’s hard to stand my ground when all I want to do is lie down with him . . . on top of me. Again.

  I can’t even listen to his music anymore. My body starts aching in ways I can’t satisfy when I hear his deep voice singing.

  His lips.

  His mouth.

  His tongue.

  God. My body warms, remembering when he whispered in my ear, “It will be hard to forget the best night of my life.”

  Taking a slow inhale, I close my eyes, wanting to touch him again as he touches me. Strong hands with rough, callused fingers drag over my soft skin, tiny triggers fueling my desires. Feverish.

  My breathing picks up.

  My body is his and not my own.

  My thoughts buried back in his bed. There’s no escaping the hunger I have for Jet.

  I crave him.

  I ache for him.

  I’ll burn for him just to taste the fire, shaming myself for giving in once again.

  “Ah.” I try to catch my harsh breath and slow my racing heart. I exhale a deep breath, releasing the remaining pent-up energy.

  Straightening the lace that hugs my hips, I rest my arms on the bed beside me as I come down from the high of a release. I stare at the ceiling fan, my body exhausted, but alive and still tingling between my legs. A pulse still beats to the rhythm we once created together, my body remembering every tender and beautiful moment we once shared.

  I’ve got to learn to embrace hate a little better, or I’m never going to be able to keep my real feelings hidden from the world, from Eileen, and from Jet.

  The sound of cabinets slamming is heard. It was the washing machine lid being dropped earlier. The front door before that.

  I’ve been hiding in my room all day. I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. I understand Aunt Eileen is upset, but I’m upset too. First, we lost Cassie. Now, we lost custody of Alfie.
>
  I need to mourn in my own way without having to discuss or defend Jet Crow. If I go out there, that’s what will end up happening, and I’m just not ready. I wouldn’t know what to say anyway.

  I’m conflicted.

  He has a right to raise his son. From all that I’ve seen and discovered on my own, Jet’s a good guy who wants to do right by his son. Who am I to discount that desire? But damn it, I miss Alfie and worry about him constantly.

  All the things I’ve heard about the man over the past seven years, when pieced together, don’t make up the man I met, the man I’ve come to think about too much.

  Sitting up, I decide it’s time to deal with the inevitable. I start to freshen up before heading into the firing line, also known as the kitchen, but then my phone rings. It’s been a few months since I’ve seen that name and heard my friend’s voice, so I answer quickly, “Hi there, stranger.”

  Dave Carson, friend and one time savior. “Hey there. It’s been a while. Wanted to check in.”

  “Too long. Things are . . . what they are.” He’ll want to know, so I just tell him without waiting to be asked. “Cassie passed away.”

  “Oh, wow. I’m sorry, Hannah. I should have called sooner.”

  “No. We knew it was just a matter of time. She was so young, and it’s a terrible way to die, but in a way, we got to prepare Alfie.” I was “prepared,” but it hasn’t made it any less painful.

  “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  “Thank you.” I’m so happy to hear from him. “How are you?”

  “Good. Working a lot.”

  “Oh yeah, where?”

  “A recording studio over on Oltorf. I have the night shift. Musicians are a funny bunch. It’s the busiest and shittiest shift, but I get to record for free when it’s not in use.”

  “That’s cool. Are you recording an album?”

  “I’m working on an EP, but I won’t be able to do anything with it for at least another year. I need money for that.”

  I smile, but I feel the tightness. I take the blame for him not being with the band he started. My ex did damage to me and managed to fuck his best friend over in the process. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t do that, Hannah. You don’t owe anyone an apology. I left because of an asshole I thought was a friend. How can I play my music with someone I don’t trust? I can’t. Anyway, at least I get to create music I like now. That band had changed too much for me to be proud of anymore. Good for them for working like they do. Fuck him though for trading us in for a shot at fame.”

  “Yeah. Screw him.” The words aren’t as harsh, but the feeling behind it is the same.

  “Hey, so let’s hang out sometime and catch up.”

  “Yeah, I’d like that. I’ll text you soon.”

  “Cool.” He pauses, then says, “I’m sorry about Cassie.”

  “I appreciate it. Take care, Dave.”

  “See ya around, Han.”

  When I hang up, I think about how far Dave and I have come, not just in our friendship, but what we went through together. I’ll always be grateful to him for his kindness when I had no one else.

  Smiling, I now feel truly ready to face the day. I walk into the kitchen and greet my aunt with the smile that’s still on my face. “Good afternoon.”

  “You burned the day away.”

  “Guess I did.” It’s easier to stand my ground with my aunt than it ever has been with Jet. It’s an interesting detail I’ll explore about the time I’m trying to fall asleep, but my mind won’t rest. Basically like every night lately.

  She asks, “Have you seen Cassie’s journal?”

  “No.” The question surprises me. We’re not allowed to go into Cassie’s room, and Eileen would freak out if we touched anything. “I can help find it if you’d like.”

  “No. No. No. I’ll find it.”

  “Do you want to read it?”

  She stops and shoots me a look. As if her mission has changed, she faces me and narrows her eyes. “How do you think Alfie is faring with him?”

  Him . . . Jet. “I think Alfie is fine with his father.”

  “Are you taking his side again?”

  Filling a glass with water, I attempt to calm the fire in her eyes. “I’m not taking anyone’s side but Alfie’s. Jet took him to the zoo today. You know how much he loves it there.”

  “He’s just trying to buy his affection.”

  I sigh. “I don’t want to fight over this. He lost six years with him—”

  “Because he chose to leave my pregnant daughter.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Offense crinkles the skin on her face. “How dare you say she would lie!”

  “I didn’t say Cassie would lie. I’m just starting to think there are two sides to this story.”

  “Not when it comes to this. That man is a lowlife lothario, and he’ll turn Alfie into one if we don’t intervene. If you’re truly on Alfie’s side, you’ll protect him from his sperm donor.”

  “Ew.” I could argue, but there’s no point. She’s made up her mind, and there’s no changing it. “I’m going to have dinner with them and watch Alfie while Jet plays a show tonight.”

  “See? Not even twenty-four hours and he’s shuffling his kid off like he doesn’t matter.”

  “He has to pay rent—”

  “You seemed to have lost all reasoning, Hannah. This is exactly how he tempted my daughter into his sins. I’ll be speaking with the lawyer today to figure out our next step.”

  “This is it. We’ve been given more than I thought we’d get. We have shared custody for the next sixty days. We need to make this transition as easy as possible on Alfie.”

  She gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “Transition? There is no transitioning. I’m fighting. If you don’t intend to fight with me, you should probably consider returning to Dallas.” On that final not so veiled threat, she turns and goes to her room. The door is not handled gently when it closes behind her.

  I want to do some door slamming of my own, but I need to shower and get ready to go to Jet’s house.

  Wrapped in a towel and freshly showered, I open my laptop to do what was inevitable—find a job. As soon as I sit down, my phone rings. It takes me a second to shake the shock. “Hi . . . Dad.”

  “Eileen just called me hysterical. What have you done, Hannah?”

  Seeing him at Christmas was one thing, but this is the first call I’ve had from him in years, and it’s to gripe at me for how I’m apparently treating his sister. The pain runs deep. I didn’t even get a hi, hello, or how are you? “I told her the truth. We have time and half custody. I have no control over that.”

  “I know the outcome, but you need to make sure you win full custody until we get that matter of the will out of the way.”

  “You mean Cassie’s wishes,” I say, snarky.

  “Eileen said you were going soft on that loser. Keep your eyes on the prize.”

  “Alfie’s not a prize. He’s a kid. His mother’s wishes should matter.”

  “So you want to raise him as your own? You can’t support yourself.”

  I swear they’re the same person. “I want what’s best for him. That’s all.”

  “Stay focused. I’m busy. I can’t field calls from hysterical women because my own daughter has forgotten what responsibility means.”

  “I’m done here.”

  “Good. So am I.”

  The line goes dead, just like our relationship. Why does he hate me so much? Did he hate my mother so much that he’d crush me just to get revenge?

  I shut my computer, disheartened by everything. Finishing my last two years of college will have to wait another year. I’m almost out of money, and despite what my aunt thinks, I plan to be in Alfie’s life however I can. If that means coming back home for good, then I guess I’m staying in Austin longer than I planned. I need to start thinking long term and moving out once I have a job.

  “Donuts?”

  I walk in, right past Jet and hi
s ridiculously handsome, make no effort just woke up looking this incredible sexy self. Gracious, I’m horny. I really need to get control of these rampant and sexually charged thoughts. If I’m not careful, he’ll be naked in my mind in no time, or better yet, in his bed with me climbing—I shake my head. “Dessert. They’re Alfie’s favorite.”

  “Round Rock Donuts. Man, I haven’t had those in years. So good.” As soon as I set the box down, he lifts the lid and starts to reach for one.

  I slap his hand. “Not until after dinner, mister.”

  He looks over his shoulder. Seemingly satisfied that we’re alone, he whispers, “Do you know how hot it is when you call me mister?”

  My belly and lower clenches as his words act as an aphrodisiac and the dull pulse becomes a throb between my legs. His breath is heavy against the bare skin of my shoulder. I clear my throat and try to hide the fact that my nipples are hard buttons pressed against my bra when all I want is Jet pressing them.

  Shoot. Solo time is not getting the job done.

  He’s supposed to be the enemy.

  I can’t forget that, but he makes it hard to focus. “You shouldn’t say such things. You need to forget our past.”

  “You keep saying that as if it will make your wish come true. It won’t. I can’t forget, Hannah.”

  “You have a million girls who would rather have your smooth lines laid upon them.”

  Opening the fridge, he sets two bottles of Dos Equis on the counter in front of me. “See, that’s where you are absolutely right. Girls.” With a bottle opener in hand, he pops one cap and then the other off. “I want a woman. Again.” Pressing the green glass to his lips, he tilts the bottle back.

  Watching the golden lager slide from the neck of the bottle into his mouth is mesmerizing. But seeing his Adam’s apple dip deep along his throat and then up again as he swallows is a vision I’d pay money for . . . and one I’ll store for later.

  I push away from the counter and quickstep around him. “Alfie?”

  When Alfie comes running out of his room, he runs to me. “Hannah.”

  I envelop him in my arms. It’s only been twenty-four hours, but it feels good to hug him. “Hey, buddy. How are you?”

 

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