by Ashley Munoz
I leaned my head against the window and texted Theo back: See you then.
I stormed out of Ramsey’s house, angry and pissed off. I didn't know why I had pictured her listening to me, maybe forgiving me. I originally didn't want to see her, and only planned to talk to her after the weekend, but the more I thought about it, or her rather, the more I realized that Dad was right. I needed to fix things. But more than that, for some reason, I wanted to fix things with her.
I got on my bike and carefully pulled out of the driveway. I may be angry, but not angry enough to disrespect Carla by spitting gravel everywhere. I actually enjoyed spending the half-hour with Ramsey’s mom on the couch, drinking tea and talking about Ramsey. She was the sweetest lady I'd ever met. Besides my mother and grandmother, of course, both of whom passed away too soon.
I was a little panicked when Carla told me that Ramsey was only sleeping so long because she was stressed out.
I asked what she was stressed about, hoping it didn't have anything to do with me.
She sweetly declared, "It's the cancer. It's in my liver, but it's no matter because Jesus will heal it."
I didn’t even know how to respond, but I had respect for Ramsey, taking care of her mom like that. She didn’t run when things got hard, she turned around and embraced it; that was something insanely attractive to me.
I decided to blow off some steam and turn left, toward the back side of Belvidere, instead of turning right towards my house. I needed to clear my head, and riding was the best way for me to do it. As I rode, I felt more at peace, less angry, and as the anger surrounding Ramsey left, something else took its place. I couldn't get the picture of Ramsey coming out of her room, wearing practically nothing, out of my head.
She was beautiful. Her brown hair was bundled on top of her head, but she had these tendrils falling all around her neck, and it made me want to walk over and brush them behind her ear. Her eyes were a mess of blue water colors, hidden behind a dark rim of smudged mascara and eye makeup. Something had physically shifted in me at the sight of her. Something I hadn't felt or wanted in a long time. Something dangerous.
I knew I was in trouble when all I could think of, when I first saw her standing there in her pajamas, was how perfect she would look coming down the stairs of my house like that. With messy hair and that cute little outfit, moving through my house on a Saturday morning, making coffee. I pictured those bare feet on my hardwood floors, and those long, lean legs curled up on my couch. It was a miracle that I didn’t walk her back towards her room to have our conversation, because everything in me wanted to tell her exactly how sorry I was, just not with words.
Talking with Carla answered the few questions that I had about Ramsey. She told me that Ramsey was single, she didn’t have any kids, and she still had several friends back in Chicago, but none local, except for a friend named Theo that she had recently met.
I didn’t explain that Theo was my dad. It sounded like Ramsey was lonely here in Belvidere and that revelation made me sad, but also slightly happy. She didn't party or go out every weekend. She spent most her nights at home and in bed before nine at night, according to Carla. It was like she was reading my invisible dream journal for my future wife. My heart beat a little faster at that thought. At the thought of finding someone with substance.
I looped back around to the first exit of the city and started to make my way back home.
I continued down the street and waved at a few neighbors, and as usual, they shook their heads in disappointment. They didn’t approve of the bike, and they really didn’t approve of me not wearing a helmet. They might have a point, but most of the appeal of a bike is getting to feel the wind on your face. I’ll have to wrestle that battle another time.
I parked the bike in the garage, putting it away for the evening. Stopping in my office, I checked my email. I was about to head upstairs when my phone rang.
"Hey, what's up, Rav?" I asked, while pulling off my boots.
"Hey, boss." Rav hesitated, which caused me to pause.
"What is it?"
He cleared his throat before continuing. "I got a call today..." He paused again. I waited and another big sigh of reluctance followed. "It was Davis. He said to tell you he has something you've been looking for."
My gut tightened. I hadn't heard anything from Davis or the Brass since I left five years ago. I was still technically a part of the club, and I knew it was just a matter of time before they called me up, but I hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. I grappled with all the thoughts at war in my head as Rav spoke up.
"You ok, boss?"
I shut my eyes and tried to focus.
"Yeah, just thinking, is all."
Davis may be the leader of the Brass and a twisted son of a bitch but for all his evil and contorted faults, lying wasn’t one of them. Which meant he knew about the search for my ex-wife and likely my lack of information regarding her whereabouts. If he wanted a meeting with me, then he wanted more than I would be willing to pay for the information. But I had been searching for over two years, and if he knew anything, then I needed to meet with him. I realized that Rav was waiting for my response.
"Thanks, Rav. Go ahead and set up the meeting."
"You got it, boss." Rav hung up the call and I rested my face in my hands, hoping I wasn't making a colossal mistake.
The rest of the afternoon went by fairly quick. I took the kids to the park and played soccer; Sammy really needed to work on his penalty kicks. Once we got home, the kids settled and started watching some cartoons in the living room, but Dad was nowhere to be found. I checked the clock and saw that it was already after five, so I reluctantly ran upstairs and jumped in the shower. I stood in my walk-in closet and stared at its contents. The glow from the light in the ceiling cast just enough light for me to see a variety of blue, gray, and white dress shirts. I had somewhat of a large selection of shoes on the rack below.
Owning a bar had widened my wardrobe considerably but still, I sifted through each one with reluctance. None of it felt right, I didn't want to give Sarah the wrong impression. I'd agreed to go on a date with her, but I didn't have plans to pursue anything with her past tonight. I winced at how much of a bitter asshole I'd become, but it was true. Plus, it didn't feel right to try and impress Sarah when my thoughts hadn't left Ramsey. Which was concerning. Why the hell did I care about Ramsey? She was a bitch today, and didn't even give me a chance to explain myself. I should be glad that I wouldn't be seeing her anymore. Bringing my hand to my neck, I let out a sigh and settled on a black t-shirt, blue blazer, and some nice jeans.
I checked the time again and saw that it was already past six. I opened my door and started to jog downstairs. Dad was in the dining room, trying to fix his tie. I guess he was trying to look nice tonight, although he swears he'd never try to pick up on the ladies down at the bingo hall. I went over to help him when I heard the doorbell ring. I figured it was the babysitter, so I started towards the door. Just as I took a step, Dad put his arm out and physically pushed me to the ground, and ran past me. What the hell?
I lay there, trying to figure out why my dad just did that, when I heard voices. I vaguely recognized the first voice, which came through soft and sweet. The other, of course, was Dad’s, then I heard the high-pitched squeal of excitement coming from my kids. A stampede of small thumps resonated through my floorboards as they ran toward the door where the babysitter was. It took me a second to realize what name not one, but both, of them were screaming. Then all at once, as clear as day, I finally registered the words.
“Ramsey! Ramsey!” I jumped up and turned my head towards the door, but Dad and the kids were blocking my view. My mind was racing, there was no way that it could be her. Then the bodies broke apart and I saw her.
She was wearing a patterned sundress, that looked kind of bohemian, and over her shoulders was a small jean jacket. Her hair was in a messy, long, beautiful braid, with tiny pieces framing her face. She was here, in my house, and she was dragging Sammy on her leg
; he was wrapped around her like a koala bear. Jasmine smiled so big that I thought her face might break. The two girls were already deep in conversation about hair and something that sounded like “interest.” Ramsey’s eyes were locked onto Jasmine's, so she hadn't had a chance to see me yet. She continued to carry Sammy further inside, I wanted to hide, but realized it was my house, and my kids, and at some point, she might need to meet me, the dad. So, I just stood there and waited for the shit to hit the fan, because it most definitely would when she noticed me.
My guess was that she had no clue these kids were mine, or that the babysitting gig she agreed to do for her beloved Theo was actually for me. How did my kids already know her? None of this made sense, but shit, I liked the look of this woman in my house, and with my kids. She had no idea what she was doing to me right now.
Once she made her way into the living room, Sammy jumped up and walked over to me. Jasmine was still talking Ramsey's ear off, but as Sammy got my attention, Jasmine noticed and stopped talking. Ramsey’s eyes left Jasmine’s and found mine. Her body lurched to a stop and froze.
Her eyes went big, and I could tell that her breathing had become erratic. Sammy grabbed my hand, and then hers, looking between us. She was still frozen. Sammy spoke up in his cute little voice and said, “Dad, this is Ramsey, our friend. She has a funny name, but she is really nice and likes to play hide and seek.”
He let go of our hands and ran off, then we were left standing with Jasmine between us… Until my Dad called her into the kitchen.
Ramsey just stood there and looked at me, and I did the same to her until she whispered, “Is this some kind of sick joke?”
She sounded hurt.
I shook my head. “I didn’t know you were the babysitter Theo hired. I swear I wouldn’t do that to you. You made yourself clear this morning,” I tried to reassure her.
She crossed her arms over her chest again. Her eyes roamed my house as her face turned red. I noticed her foot had started tapping too.
I stepped a little closer, slowly, like I was approaching a dangerous animal, and cautiously said, “Look, I get that you didn’t know what you were walking into here. Let's just call this whole thing off and you can go home. I wasn’t really…”
She countered in a panicked voice, stopping me mid-sentence, “No! I already told Jasmine and Sammy that I would be here!”
Well, shit. She was just claiming more and more of me by the second.
I smiled at her, and then forced my body to take a step back, so I didn't make her nervous.
“Okay, then if you don’t mind staying and still doing this, I can go over some basics with you.”
She unfolded her arms and seemed more comfortable. She stopped tapping her foot and gave me a solid nod of agreement. I turned towards the living room and walked over to the coffee table.
"This controls the TV and volume. The kids have their own profiles set up on Netflix, whatever you do, don't ask which one you should use. Just choose mine and select a kid’s movie from the search bar,” I informed her and went to move on when she held up her hand.
"Yes? You don't need to raise your hand, by the way,” I clarified for her. She just lifted one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows at me in question.
"Why do you give them their own profiles if they aren't allowed to use them?"
I considered her question and felt the slightest irritation at her tone, and suggestion that I didn't know what I was doing. Or maybe I was just sensitive.
I cleared my throat. "Because it makes them happy to have their own." That's all I was going to say because I wasn't ready to talk about how they would try to impress her with their very own kid’s profile or how Jasmine and Sammy would spend a ridiculous amount of time showing her the type of shows they liked. I wouldn't go there because, to my kids, having people accept them and like them was a big deal, and I didn't want to give Ramsey any pointers. She could learn those things about my kids herself. Why do I care? I left the remotes where they were and walked around the coffee table, through the living room.
We walked upstairs together and stopped at the top. I gestured with my hand towards the first door on the right and told her, “This one is Sammy’s room, he will need to go to bed no later than ten.” Then I walked forward a bit and signaled to the door directly across the hall on the left. “Here's Jasmine's room, they both have the same bedtime.” I noticed that she looked anywhere that I gestured with my hands, but she wouldn't look at me.
Once we were back downstairs, I pulled out the emergency card with the kids’ info on it.
"Here's my dad's cell phone number." Ramsey glared at the card, then cut a glance towards the kitchen where my dad was standing out of sight.
“Your dad?” She looked confused by the way she rubbed at her temple, frustrated. “You're James?” she asked accusingly, like she'd just heard of a legend or myth. I nodded slowly; no one had called me James since I was a teenager.
"I prefer Jimmy," was all I eluded to. Her eyebrows drew together, and her lips thinned as she glanced one more time towards the kitchen.
"Anyway, the kids don't have any allergies, but they won't eat any kind of pizza but pepperoni, so just save yourself the headache and order that." I eyed her carefully as she stood holding her elbow, watching the table.
"I'm taking my date to a local place nearby, so just text me if you need anything or have any questions," I finished, placing a twenty-dollar bill on the table for pizza.
She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, and I was nearly paralyzed by the movement. She didn't seem to be thinking about what she was doing. She cut another glance back towards the kitchen, then back towards the table. As I put my wallet back in my jacket, she finally spoke up.
"I don' t know of any pizza places around here. You'll need to tell me which one you usually go through." She was still watching the table, then sliced another glance towards the kitchen.
I was getting angry. She wouldn't look at me, and I didn't want to come off as an asshole again. So, I just decided to put an end to this whole thing, and walked into the kitchen with her on my heels.
Dad was on his phone, talking with someone, when his eyes went big watching Ramsey behind me. I looked back to see her face; it had twisted into something cruel and her eyes had transitioned into something deadly. Dad quickly ended his call and placed his hands up, like he was surrendering.
"Now, Ramsey, hang on a sec, honey. Let me explain," Dad pleaded with her, but it was in vain.
"Please Theo, tell me another cute story about your son, James. I'd love to hear more, but maybe you should wait until he fires me again or turns me down for another job interview. I'm sure it's bound to happen again soon." Ramsey's voice was a bit shaky, like she might be on the verge of tears, or just really pissed and nearly ready to kill my dad. I winced at her words as she included me in her rant.
Dad looked down at the counter as red filled his cheeks. He was ashamed. If Ramsey knew who my dad was, knew who he was in the Brass, knew who the Ripper was, then she'd appreciate this moment so much more. Dad was about to say something again, but Ramsey spun on her heels and walked back towards the living room. I watched my dad as he eyed Ramsey's retreating form and quirked an eyebrow at him. Serves him right for trying to play matchmaker.
I turned to try and find Ramsey, hoping to smooth things over with her, when Sammy ran into the room, screaming, “Pizza, pizza, give me some pepperoni pizza!”
He was throwing his arms out on either side of him, like he was trying to stop traffic. I walked back through the house, with Sammy attached to my arm, to where Ramsey was sitting in the living room. She said she wanted to spend the evening with the kids, and had that look on her face, like if I told her to leave, she'd fall apart. Choosing to let her stay, regardless of how upset she seemed, choosing to trust a perfect stranger with my kids, I grabbed my keys, hugged the kids, and walked out the front door. Praying, and hoping yet again, that I hadn't just made a huge mistake.
I should have known. Ever since driving to Jimmy’s bar and having my bizarre interview with him, it feels like I can’t seem to shake him. That feeling only proved to be correct as I stood on the doorstep of Theo’s house. Theo, the scoundrel. His omission about James felt like a betrayal and honestly, a cruel joke. Why wasn't he just honest about Jimmy being his son? Then knowing Jimmy would come to his bar last night. What a bunch of jerks. I let out a long sigh and stood up from the couch. The kids were outside and barreling their way to the screen door.
I pushed all my frustrations aside and focused on having a good time with the kids. They might have drawn the short straws for a grandfather and dad, but that wasn't their fault.
I headed into the kitchen to call in the pizza order, then went to find the kids. They were both in the living room, watching some show about teenagers who are also superheroes. I stood against the frame of the kitchen for a second, watching them together. They laughed and joked as they watched the show, while they both pretended to use superpowers on each other. I silently wondered what it would have been like to grow up like that. With someone to play with, someone to laugh with, and shoulder the heavy burdens of life with. I grew up completely alone. I had no one, except my mom.
Shoving past the emotions that were swelling up, I walked towards the couch. Jasmine smiled up at me from the floor and asked expectantly, “Hair time?!”
I smiled and nodded my head, crawling behind her. Thankfully, my dress was floor-length and stretchy, so I easily crossed my legs and sat behind her head. I brushed out her whole head of hair, then began gathering a few strands of hair together in the front of her head and worked my way to the back. She sat patiently and would only speak to ask me a few off-handed questions here and there that made me laugh.
One was, “Do you have a husband? Or a boyfriend?”
I laughed at her blunt nature; it was kind of refreshing.
I replied with a little humor, and drew out my syllables, “No to either one.”
