by L. P. Maxa
The girl looked right at Dylan, no wavering. “Landry.”
Landry. I actually really liked that name. I mentally shook my head. Not really what I should be focusing on right now.
“Well, Landry, it’s very nice to meet you.” She stood. “I just made a huge pile of chocolate chip pancakes, would you like some?”
Landry cocked her head to the side, “No, thank you. I don’t eat chocolate for breakfast.”
Dylan’s smile faltered slightly before she recovered. “Uh, okay. Well, there is still some batter left…. Can make you some without chocolate?”
Landry looked up at the social worker, not in an asking-permission type of way. More like she was observing her thoughts on the matter of chocolate-free pancakes. Then she looked to me. Her pretty blue eyes narrowed again. Shit. This kid was not a fan of mine. She silently let Dylan lead her out of the room.
My eyes went to Smith when he cleared this throat. “We’ll just be in the kitchen if anyone needs us.” He sent me a small smile and then left me alone in the living room with the pretty social worker.
“Mr. Cole—”
“Jacks. Please, call me Jacks.” I held my hand out, a polite gesture for her to sit. I sat. I had to. My knees felt like they would buckle at any second.
She followed suit, and then opened up her briefcase and pulled out a bunch of very official-looking papers. “Jacks, do you remember a woman by the name of Amelia Johnson? You would have met her in Louisiana?”
Laughing would probably be the most inappropriate response imaginable. But that’s what I felt like doing. Did she know who she was talking to? I was in a famous-as-fuck rock band. I met lots of women. “No, ma’am, I can honestly say I do not.”
“Well, she put you down on the birth certificate as Landry’s father.”
I was expecting those words, I knew they were coming. But still, hearing them caused my lungs to seize up momentarily. “There must be some mistake.”
The social worker, Diane, smiled. It was a kind, understanding smile. “Mr. Cole—”
“Jacks.” Mr. Cole was my father, he was old and responsible. I was neither of those things.
“Jacks. I understand the shock that comes with the kind of news I’ve just delivered. And while I strongly urge you to get a paternity test—”
“Yes. One of those. I need one of those.” I knew I kept interrupting her, and I knew it was rude. But my manners were starting to escape me.
She reached into her bag and handed me a cotton swab. “Remove the cap, swab the inside of your cheek, and then replace the cap. You’ll have the results in two days. Landry’s is already on file. But Jacks, there is something you should know…Amelia, her mother, she’s gone.”
Gone? “She died?” I rubbed my cheek with the rough cotton and then handed it back to Diane.
“No. Well, I don’t know, maybe. But either way she abandoned Landry two weeks ago.”
I turned toward the kitchen. I could hear her small voice responding to Dylan with one-word answers. “Landry was alone?”
Diane leaned forward, drawing my attention back to her. “She was, yes, for about eight days. A neighbor finally noticed and called 9-1-1.”
Apparently I knocked up a horrible person. “Was she hurt? Landry, I mean.”
“No, quite the opposite in fact. She cooked her own food, gave herself a bath, and tucked herself in at night. The house was clean and tidy when social services got there.” Diane shook her head, in a very sad sweet lady way. “It appeared that Landry was very used to taking care of herself.”
That poor tiny girl. Maybe Smith should adopt her, they probably had more in common. I was a spoiled brat. My parents were insanely loving and supportive. I was never left alone a day in my life. I never had to worry about where my next meal was coming from, my next hug. I never had to worry about anything, ever. I silently laughed to myself, talk about product of your environment. “How old is she? Like twelve?” She was small, but to be able to take care of herself like that she had to be older than she looked.
“Landry is nine.”
My chest hurt. How often was she left alone that she could fend for herself for that long at the age of nine? I couldn’t even figure out the microwave at that age. “What happens to her now?”
“Well, that depends on you.”
Me? No, not me. I wasn’t an adult. I should go get Dash, he’d know what to do. “You want me to take her? What if she’s not mine?” It was possible, right? I mean, there was certainly a chance that her mom was lying. This chick abandoned her kid, so honesty wasn’t her strong suit.
“If you don’t, then she’ll have to go into the system. A foster home, until we can figure something out. Landry’s mom has another week to come forward before her rights are terminated automatically.”
“She gets another chance? Why?” That sounded like a horrible idea. Why would they want to let a clearly shitty person get her kid back?
“Jacks, kids Landry’s age rarely find permanent placement once they go into the system. People looking to adopt usually want babies or younger children. The best thing for Landry would be if her mother came forward, agreed to enter treatment and parenting classes. I assure you she would have to prove herself in order for us to let Landry go home.” Diane pulled out a few different papers and a pen. “If the paternity test shows that she’s yours, and you don’t want to claim custody, I have papers for you to sign your rights away.”
Sign my rights away? That didn’t sound good. That sounded like a really crappy thing to do. I was an immature pain in the ass, but I wasn’t a shitty person. Right? “I live here with the rest of my band…and two chicks. Oh, and a giant dog. I mean, is it okay that she’s here?” Shouldn’t she be somewhere more…normal?
“While we agree that this is a rather unusual living situation, social services feels that having her with her father is far better than putting her in the system.”
Was I her father? Probably. I’d lost count of the number of women I’d slept with. Of course I knocked one of them up. Too bad it wasn’t one of the fifty kindergarten teachers. I bet they were all great mom material. “She can stay here. Until we know for sure, I mean.”
Diane smiled; I guess that was the right answer. She stood and I followed. We were headed into the kitchen. To talk to Landry. We were going to the kitchen to tell Landry, my possible daughter, that she could stay here. Was she my daughter? She looked just like me. And she seemed to hate me. Seemed about right. “Landry, sweetheart, can we talk to you a minute?”
Diane reminded me of a grandma. Very calm, very loving. Maybe she should take Landry. The tiny little girl with the raven hair and the piercing eyes turned her full attention toward us. “Landry, this is Jacks. This is the man I was telling you about in the car. He lives here, with his friends.” Landry shifted her eyes toward Smith and Dylan. And then to me. Her gaze was intense. “Jacks would very much like it if you agreed to stay here, with him.”
The sweet social worker elbowed me in the ribs. “I would, like you to stay. If that’s okay…with you…” Was I supposed to ask her? Or tell her? I would make a terrible father.
Landry stared at me for a beat before she nodded and then went back to eating her pancakes. Diane leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be back to check on you, sweetheart.”
I followed her out to her car, and took Landry’s small pink suitcase from her hands. “You’ll come back, right? To see us? And to let me know about the test.” I knew I sounded desperate, but I was.
“Yes, I’ll be back soon. I’ll give you a few days to settle in and when I have the results of your paternity test I’ll come by. And of course I’ll let you know if Landry’s mother contacts us.” She looked back toward the house, and then to me. “There’s something about Landry… She just tugs on my heartstrings, that one.”
She got in her car and left. That nice polite pretty lady got in her car and left me alone. Now what? Go inside and talk to my kid? Was she my kid? Probably. I
hung my head and made my way back to the kitchen. Dylan was sitting next to Landry and they were both reading the newspaper. It was odd to see such a small person holding a giant newspaper. Was she old enough to read? I don’t think I’d ever read the paper. Maybe Dylan should adopt her. “Uh, Landry?”
She sat her paper down and looked at me. “Jacks.”
For such a small quiet person, she was intimidating as hell. “Do you, uh, I mean. Shit. Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t have said shit. Damn it.” Maybe I should just stop talking. Maybe I should run out the door and chase down Diane’s car and offer to pay her an ungodly amount of money to stay and help me. Always seemed to work for Dash. I took a deep breath and tried again. “Landry. Is there anything you need? To be more comfortable here? We can find you a room, and we can, uh, well… I can send someone to the store to get your favorite foods….” Shelter, food, water. Kids were like pets, right?
She just stared at me. I sat down on the bar stool next to her and banged my head on the granite countertop. When I turned to the side to look at her, she was smiling. Not a big smile, more like a smirk. Like me at a loss for words was humorous. Well, that’s a start. I smiled back.
“Good morning, famil—”
I raised my head when Dash walked in, with a sleepy pregnant Lexi trailing behind him. Our lead singer and his girlfriend stopped in their tracks when they saw Landry sitting beside me. No one moved, no one talked. Dagger, Lexi’s giant gray pit bull, came bounding down the hall and into the kitchen. He came right to me and licked my hand, looking for food. Then he moved on to Landry. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Dagger put his paws on the counter and pulled himself up until they were face to face. Should I make him get down? Did she like dogs? Was she scared of dogs? Man, I would make a crappy dad.
Landry laughed. She had this adorable tinkling little laugh, like a pixie. She speared a soggy bite of pancake with her fork and fed it to Dagger. He ate it and then licked her face. She laughed again. So she liked dogs. Okay, I’d buy her a puppy.
“Uh, Jacks?” Dash’s voice sounded shaky.
Oh yeah. “Landry, that’s Dagger. And then those two people over there are Dash and Lexi. They all live here too.” I turned to my friends, my chosen family. “Guys, this is Landry.”
Lexi came into the room and held her hand out. “It’s nice to meet you, Landry. I was going to let Dagger run around and play in the backyard for a little bit. Would you like to take him? He seems to really like you, Dylan will go too.”
Landry looked from Lexi to me. “If you want to talk without me in here, it’s okay.” She hopped down off the stool and followed Dylan and Dagger out the back door. Dylan sent me a reassuring smile on her way out.
I took a deep breath and turned toward my people. “A social worker showed up here this morning with Landry. Said she’s my kid.”
Dash ran his hands through his hair, “Holy shit, Jacks. Are you serious? Who’s her mom?”
I shrugged, “Apparently some chick named Amelia I banged somewhere in Louisiana.” I let out a humorless laugh, “Really narrows it down, huh?”
“Where in Louisiana?” Smith went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. I didn’t blame him. I wanted one too. Beer and pancakes, the breakfast of champions.
I grabbed Landry’s fork, the one she’d fed Dagger with, and took a bite of her leftovers. “Didn’t say.”
“They sure she’s yours?” Smith took a pull off his beer. Then Lexi grabbed it and poured it out in the sink, giving him her I-dare-you-to-cross-me look.
Dash pointed to the backyard. “Are you kidding, she looks just like him!”
“I did this cheek swab thing, for a paternity test…but you’re right. She’s like my mini me.” I looked out the window. Landry was throwing Dagger his ball. She was quiet around us, but damn she liked that dog. “Although she kind of looks a little like Bryan too.”
Smith crossed his arms over his chest. “Bryan? Dylan’s sister?”
“Uh, yeah, uh, you know she has that dark hair and light eyes thing going on. She looks like the Lawsons.” Dylan and Bryan looked just alike. I’d never met their other sister, Mikah, but I was guessing she was another carbon copy.
Dash leaned against the counter, running his hands through his hair. “Where is her mother?”
“No one knows. The neighbors called the cops when they noticed that Landry had been alone for over a week.”
Lexi put her hand on her stomach, cradling her baby bump. “Oh my God. How awful! That poor little girl. Was she okay? Was she hurt?”
Maybe Lexi should take her. She was about to have a baby anyways. Insta-family. “No. She was fine. They said she took good care of herself: cooked herself dinner, gave herself a bath, cleaned the house…”
“So she’s used to being alone. How old is she?” Lexi looked like she was going to be sick.
“She’s nine.”
Lexi wiped away a tear. “What now?”
“I told the social worker that she can stay here. That’s okay, right?” Was I supposed to ask if I and my kid could live here? Would they make us leave? Holy crap, was I going to have to get my own house? I needed to call my mom. Wait, they were on a four-week-long cruise through Europe. Shit.
Dash put his hand on my shoulder. “Of course that’s okay, man. If that’s what you want to do, we’ll support you. But…”
I raised an eyebrow. “But what?”
“I love you, man. But are you sure you can handle this? Handle taking care of this little girl for the foreseeable future? You aren’t exactly the most adult person in this house. Landry’s been through the wringer; I can’t even imagine what she’s feeling right now.”
Smith nodded, slowly, in agreement. “I can. And it’s a lot to take on, bro. Maybe she needs to be with some professionals? Some people who know what the hell they are doing.”
Lexi shook her head. “No. What she needs is to be with people who will be nice to her, will provide for her, pay attention to her. What she needs is to feel safe. And being in some group foster home surrounded by other kids with just as many issues? Isn’t going to help.” She rested her hand on my shoulder. “Does she know you’re her dad?”
Smith and Dash were my friends, my family, two of the people closest to me. If they didn’t think I could do this…maybe I couldn’t. “I guess the social worker told her I was her dad…but I mean, chicks are crazy, right? What if some nutjob fan listed me on this kid’s birth certificate?” It could happen.
Smith looked out at the backyard. “She’s your kid.”
I laid my cheek on the cool countertop. “Probably.”
Landry
Diane said that Jacks was listed as my next of kin. She asked me if I knew what that meant on the drive over here. I get it. My mom said he was my dad. But my mom said a lot of things that didn’t end up being true. Like, I’ll be right back for starters. Their house was huge. Like a palace or a castle. Everyone that lived here was nice. They were all really pretty too. Like people on TV. The best part though was this big gray slobbery dog. I loved dogs. I begged my mom for a dog. She always said no. I didn’t blame her, as she could barely take care of herself…let alone me and a dog. My mom wasn’t a bad person. But I was old enough to know she wasn’t a good mom. Not like those moms on TV. The moms who made dinner and sent you to school with a perfectly packed lunch. That wasn’t my mom. And now she was gone. I didn’t know if I missed her or not. I couldn’t tell.
I was glad to be outside with Dylan and Dagger. There were a lot of people who lived here. I didn’t like being around a lot of people. My mom used to have parties with lots of smoke and music and bottles and people. I always just hid in my closet. I had a lantern that one of our neighbors had lent us the last time our electricity was turned off. I would turn it on and pile all my pillows and blankets in that tiny room. It was cozy and safe. The way things were supposed to be at your home. Like on TV.
Dagger raced back toward me, with the green ball in his mouth. I could fee
l Dylan watching me. She seemed nice enough. I didn’t cry. When my mom didn’t come home, when the social worker came…I never cried. And even though I was scared and I felt lonely and out of place, I still wouldn’t cry. Because tears never really made a difference.
Chapter Two
Bryan
Well, that sucked giant horse balls. Physics was never my strong suit, which was why I put it off until my absolute last semester of school. Everyone else took their science basics first…but at least that was the last final I’d ever have to take. I was officially done with college. Now if I could just figure out what the hell I was going to do with this mass comm degree. The wind whipped my long dark hair all over the place as I walked through campus toward my car. I pulled my phone out, checking my messages. I had three missed calls from Jacks and two from Shepard. I knew why I’d started avoiding Shep; it happened to me all the time. I’d date a guy, things would get physical, it’d be exciting for about two seconds and then I’d get bored as hell. Which sucked, because Shep was handsome, polite, bound to be successful… In short? Perfect long-term partner material. He was nothing like Jacks. Jacks and I met about a month ago in New Orleans; my older sister was dating his bandmate, Smith. I can’t tell you why, but we struck up an instant friendship. We went together like peas and carrots, or ice cream and sprinkles. He was a wicked guitarist with a gaming addiction. He was like an oxymoron. And oddly enough, he’d become one of my best friends. I was glad that I lived in another state. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to Jacks. But with Dylan dating his friend and my “commitment issues” it wasn’t a good idea. Still, we talked on the phone at least once a day, we texted nonstop, and we played video games all the time. No one could make me laugh like Jacks could.
I clicked play on the voicemail from Jacks as I climbed inside my car. “B. It’s me. You have GOT to call me back. The craziest shit happened this morning. Call me.”
