To Have It All

by B. N. Toler

  “So this is Pim,” Waverly began, her grin widening, when I didn’t speak. Apparently, my reaction brought her great joy. “Pim,” she went on, “this is your sperm donor, Max.” Snapping my mouth shut, I blinked a few times as my discombobulation from the abrupt wake-up began to let up. This child was his daughter. Max’s daughter. Shit. The memories of the night before hit me in the gut. This toddler is the daughter Max had abandoned. “So,” Waverly continued, “she ate breakfast at seven, and her next nap isn’t until noon.” Lifting Pim from her hip, she kissed her cheek several times and said, “Be a good girl for Max, baby. I love you.”

  When she thrust the baby at me, it was pure reflex when I took her. Pim immediately began wailing, reaching for Waverly who turned and stepped away.

  “You’re leav—” Before I could ask, she returned pulling a large wagon behind her, filled with baby gear, a suitcase, and toys. Pushing by me, she hauled the wagon in until she reached the center of the living room. Putting her hands on her hips, she looked around and snickered, shaking her head. I wasn’t sure what she was snickering about, but it didn’t seem positive.

  “I have classes until two. I’ll be back around 2:30.”

  Walking toward me, she wiggled her fingers as she made a silly face at Pimberly who was squawking and practically jumping out of my arms to get back to her mother. “I love you, I love you,” she repeated to her, over and over again as she kissed Pimberly’s little hands. Pimberly was fighting hard to get back to her, and I felt like I was wrestling a bear cub just to keep her in my arms.

  Then, looking up at me, Waverly smiled. “You two have fun today.”

  She scurried by me and out the front door. I looked down at the baby in my arms, red-faced and sobbing, trying to understand what was happening. “Wait!” I yelled as I rushed out the door into the hall. Waverly was at the elevator, waiting, arms crossed casually as if she didn’t have a care in the world. When she turned to face me, her features lifted in surprise.

  “You can’t just leave her with . . . me,” I asserted. “She doesn’t even know me.” This was true; Pimberly didn’t know Max, and I was not Max, so she double didn’t know me.

  Arms still crossed, she shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, since you seem torn about signing rights over to the daughter you have never spent time with, or contributed to her life in any way, I thought you should spend some time together. You see, you don’t get to keep rights to her while pretending she doesn’t exist. So here she is, Max,” she said.

  My brows furrowed. Goddamn you, Max. Why are you such a fucking asshole? I really didn’t want to keep Pimberly. I didn’t have anything against kids; quite the contrary. I loved kids. If I’d met the right woman I would probably have had a couple already, but Pim wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t sure it was right for me to keep her, but it’s not like I could explain the situation to Waverly. Not to mention, I understood her point. She was fed up with Max’s bullshit and was playing hardball now.

  Shaking my head, I moved Pimberly to my other side and started patting her back, trying to calm her. “Does she have any allergies?” When I watched my nephew David many years ago, he’d had an allergic reaction to peanut butter. His face swelled up, and he had welts everywhere. It was one of the most terrifying days of my life.

  Waverly wasn’t impressed by my thoughtful question. She looked at me, her eyes narrowing in anger. Her plan hadn’t worked. She was convinced Max would cave and sign the papers right then and there to avoid having to spend time with his kid. The real Max, from what I could tell, would have, but I wasn’t Max . . . and I just couldn’t. “No.” Lifting her chin, she inhaled deeply through her nose, displeased with my reaction as the elevator doors opened. “Call me if there’s an emergency.”

  Pimberly wailed loudly as the elevator doors closed. Still patting her back, I began humming as I carried her back to the apartment. What in the hell are you going to do, Liam?

  As it often happened in life, my sneak attack on Max didn’t go as planned. I was convinced he’d sign the papers right then and there. Damn. Damn. Damn. I just left my daughter with a stranger—at least to her, anyway—who happens to be her father and wants no part of her life.

  “And mother of the year goes to . . . Waverly Torres,” I said to myself in my best imitation of an announcers voice. The people waiting for the elevator as I climbed off gave me a strange look having just witnessed me talking to myself like a nut job.

  Ugh! I hated Max. Why? Why was he doing this? Why wouldn’t he just sign the damn papers? Climbing back in the Taxi that brought Pimberly and me, which was a fortune, I instructed the driver to take me to school wondering if I shouldn’t go back right now and get her. What if something happened to her? What if he got busy doing something and she fell and hit her head?

  Shit. I had to go back.

  My cell phone rang, and I quickly yanked it from my purse, positive it was Max already throwing in the towel, begging me to come back and save him from parenting our child. Instead, Matt lit up on the screen, and I twisted my mouth, unsure if I wanted to answer. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. I’d left him a note on the kitchen counter that morning explaining my plan because I knew if I told him face to face he’d probably kidnap Pim and run away with her to stop me. He was a very protective uncle that way.

  “Hel—”

  “Are you at his place yet?” he interrupted. “I’m on my way to get both of you. What in the hell are you thinking, Waverly?”

  “Matt,” I paused unsure of how to defend myself. He was right. I was fucking nuts for concocting this plan, and on top of it, it backfired. He took her without a fight. I reminded myself that I knew Max. I knew he would fold; he would be so overwhelmed he’d be begging me to come back any minute, and he’d have those papers signed, waiting for me when I got there. Putting Pimberly in this situation is what was most wrong—deep down I knew that. Max may have been the king of deadbeat dads, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He was an asshole, not a monster. She’d survive a few hours with him.

  So, inhaling deeply, I prepared for the backlash that was coming from Matt. “She’s already there,” I explained calmly. “I need you to trust me.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he boomed. His voice was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “I trust you. Although,” he snorted, “this move today definitely makes me question your sanity, but it’s him I don’t trust. Where is she? I’ll pick her up now.”

  “Matt,” I said, my voice firm as I clutched my cell phone a little tighter. “Let her be. I’m her mother, and this is my decision.”

  The phone was silent for a long moment until finally, he replied, “And I’m just what, nobody? Haven’t I been a parent to that little girl? I don’t get to be a part of the decisions that affect her?”

  My heart dropped to my stomach. I’d hurt his feelings and offended him in one fell swoop. I could now add sister of the year to my mother of the year title.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I pleaded. “Of course you do. But you have to trust me.”

  “Whatever, Waverly. I just hope you don’t get that little girl caught up in his bullshit. Do you really want to set yourself up to be rejected by him again?”

  When he hung up, I stared down at my phone wanting to call him back, but the car stopped in front of my building and I’d already taken this leap. Now, I needed to see it through. My plan would work. Maybe not as quickly as I had originally thought, but it would. I was positive it would. Max would sign the papers.

  Paying the driver, I climbed out. “It’s just one day, Waverly. One day,” I told myself.

  She’d been crying for twenty minutes. TWENTY LONG, EXCRUCIATING MINUTES. I was pretty sure my brain was on the verge of melting to mush. I’d made silly faces, bounced her on my knee, pulled out all three hundred of her toys Waverly packed, but nothing worked.

  Panicking, I pulled out my cell and called Helen. She said she’d be there in an hour. So what the hell did I do in the meantime? In
desperation, I pulled up the internet on Max’s phone. Maybe a YouTube video would distract her? What the hell were kids watching now?

  “Do you like motorcycles, Pim?” I asked her in a sing-song voice. I pulled up a video of two sports bikes racing at the drag strip. As soon as the engines revved, her crying ebbed as she stared at the small phone screen, tilting her head in curiosity.

  “You like bikes?” I chuckled, grinning widely. “You’re pretty awesome, kid.”

  After five bike videos, the doorbell rang, and I sighed with relief. Helen to my rescue.

  Opening the door, I said, “Thank yo—”

  A blur of red hair was all I saw as Hel flew past me, without so much as a hello, Helen rushed into the living room where Pim was seated on the couch, still holding my phone. I’d pulled the coffee table away from the couch and placed pillows and blankets all around it. The kid seemed to be able to sit up well, but the last thing I needed was for her to face-plant on the floor.

  “Oh my goodness,” Hel gushed, clasping her hands in front of her. Twisting her neck, she looked back at me. “She’s gorgeous.”

  “This is Pimberly,” I acknowledged.

  Taking a few steps, Hel bent and picked up Pim. “Come see your Auntie Helen,” she cooed.

  “Okay Helen,” I intervened, holding my hand up as if to stop her. “Don’t go getting attached and telling this kid you’re her aunt. Because you’re not. This is Max’s kid, and he doesn’t even want her.”

  Helen scowled at me as she pressed Pim’s head to her chest, covering her other ear with her free hand. “Shh,” she hissed. “Don’t say that in front of her.”

  I drew my eyebrows together. My sister was losing it. It was only yesterday she was bashing my head in with a hospital phone and barely believing I was her brother in another man’s body, now she was trying to be this little girl’s aunt. “She’s a baby,” I said, dryly. “She doesn’t know what the hell I’m saying.”

  Helen lifted Pim up so she could get a better look at her. Then in a squeaky baby voice she said, “That’s not true, is it Pim? You’re a smart girl. Auntie Helen can tell.”

  “Hel,” I groaned. “Easy with the Auntie stuff, okay?”

  “Oh, Liam,” she hushed me with a dramatic eye roll. “So what if I’m not technically her aunt.”

  “Not just technically, Hel,” I interjected. “Not at all. You literally just laid eyes on her two minutes ago.”

  “So what?” she tsked. “No baby ever got hurt from a little extra love in their life.”

  I let out a growl as I ran a hand through my hair. “What happens if we switch back, Hel? What happens if we get her attached to us and then we just disappear and she’s left with the real Max, the asshole that doesn’t want her?

  Helen frowned, but didn’t say anything. She knew I had a point. Even if I didn’t, I could tell she didn’t want to discuss the unknown—the what if. For now, at this moment, all she wanted was to gush over this cute baby girl and forget the elephant in the room. Pim giggled at my phone as Hel took it out of her chubby hands.

  “Motorcycle racing?” she questioned, arching one eyebrow. “Really Liam?”

  “She likes the speed and the sound,” I defended. “Been watching ’em for twenty minutes. It was the only thing I could find to get her to stop crying.”

  Hel shook her head with the faintest of a smile as she spun around and took in the apartment. “You weren’t kidding. He’s loaded. Look at that view,” she gasped when she finally noticed the windows.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Question is how does he have money? I can’t seem to figure out what he does for a living. If he’s not showing up to work, he might get fired.”

  “Did you Google him?”

  “Uh . . . no,” I admitted feeling stupid for not having done that already. “Just looked through his file cabinet and desk, but that’s a good idea.”

  Tossing me the cell, she directed, “Look him up. I’m going to change this little princess.” Grabbing the diaper bag, she scurried off into the bedroom with Pim in tow. Pulling up the web browser, I entered his name and found a few links. From what I could tell, Max wasn’t employed. There wasn’t much to be found on him at all except for an obituary where he was named as a survivor of his father. Apparently, his father had been one of the first men to invest in natural gas, and he’d made a fortune. That explained Max’s wealth—he’d inherited it.

  “What did you find?” Helen asked when she brought Pim back in.

  “Seems to be unemployed at the moment. His father passed away a year ago and left him a fortune.”

  “Must be nice,” Helen snorted. “What’d we get? A collector’s set of Miller Lite glasses and a living room set with five thousand cigarette burns.”

  “Don’t forget the funeral expenses,” I added. No, no one would ever call Hel and me heir or heiress. Our father had passed away from cancer when we were teenagers; a product of Agent Orange and Vietnam. Our mother died from a broken heart a year later. That’s what we called it. In reality, she’d basically drank herself to death. Our parents didn’t leave us much, but our Grams tried to fill in as much as she could. Somehow, on her piddly social security income, she’d managed to leave us each a CD with a thousand bucks and a few sentimental things. It was more than she should have ever done, she’d given us so much before she’d passed.

  “Oh, before I forget,” Helen interrupted my thoughts. Grabbing her purse, she yanked out some papers. “You need to fill these out for the hospital since you . . .” she paused and rephrased, “since Max is assuming responsibility for your hospital bills.”

  “Great,” I huffed. “More papers.”

  “What does that mean?” she inquired.

  I explained the situation with Waverly wanting Max to sign over parental rights and Waverly pushing hard for it. “That’s why she brought Pim here today. She’s trying to overwhelm Max into submission and make him sign.”

  “From what you’ve told me, I can understand why,” Helen voiced. “What are you going to do?”

  Shaking my head, I sighed. “I don’t know. I’m still reeling from waking up as Max, and trying to figure out how to navigate in another man’s body. Now, I’ve got his estranged child and pissed-off ex on top of it.”

  Helen laid a hand on my arm. “We need to take this one step at a time. We won’t figure it all out in one day. First, let’s get the hospital forms filled out so we can keep your body on support, then we can make a plan.”

  I nodded, appreciating her leveling me out. It was easy to get lost in the why’s and how’s of it all. There were so many questions, but if I ever hoped to find answers I needed to ensure my body would be kept alive so I could get them.

  After I filled out the paperwork, which took forever because I had to rifle through Max’s files to get his checking account information and social security number, we played with Pim and laughed at all her quirky little ways. She was fast, but a bit clumsy. Sometimes she’d get so caught up in laughing she’d trip over her own feet as she walked. There were several times I wished we’d had some kind of baby helmet to put on her. Kids could scare the shit out of you. It was like we were watching this tiny, adorable little girl doing everything possible to hurt herself without even trying.

  “Uh . . . what is this?” Hel asked waving a small vile when she returned from using the bathroom.

  Squinting my eyes, trying to see better, I asked, “What? I don’t know.”

  Pressing her lips together, she gave me a concerned look.

  “What, Hel?” I demanded as I walked Pim around while she held my finger with her tiny hand for balance.

  “I think they’re steroids, Liam.”

  I froze on the spot and stared at her hand. “Are you sure?”

  Huffing, she tossed the vile at me. “Look how cut you look, Liam. You think Max looks like that without juicing?”

  Max’s body was cut and lean, that I couldn’t deny. I had wondered if he ate nothing but lettuce and worked out five
hours a day. I’d felt bad about eating that plate of fries the night before, like maybe I was sabotaging him, but damn if they didn’t taste good. I figured Max’s lean body could handle the cheat meal. Then something else occurred to me, something I wasn’t sure I wanted to discuss with Hel, but who else could I talk to about it?

  “His balls are kind of small,” I blurted out, immediately cringing when I realized what I’d said in front of Pimberly. “Sorry, sweetie,” I whispered.

  “Balls,” she babbled causing Helen to burst into laughter.

  “Nice, Liam,” she chortled. “So Max has small . . .” she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Man bits,” she finished.

  “Balls,” Pimberly giggled.

  Helen’s face lit up as she grinned, almost on the verge of laughing, but stopping herself when I gave her a stern look. “So . . . they’re small?”

  I growled, frustrated because she knew exactly what I was talking about, but was going to enjoy torturing me. Then I wondered if I was really so annoyed or if I was going through withdrawals; maybe the change in hormones was getting to me, making me cranky. “Yes, they’re small, Hel,” I stated plainly.

  “Got down there and gave it all a good inspection, did ya?” she chuckled as she plopped down on the couch. I rolled my eyes. I shouldn’t have told her; I knew she’d bust my balls about it . . . or Max’s little balls anyway. I wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact I’d given everything downtown a good look. It was weird. Whenever I pissed, I had to hold another man’s junk. As if being in his body wasn’t already awkward and uncomfortable, touching his genitals was the icing on the cake. As immature as it sounds, I was relieved to find his Johnson was on par with my own—size wise, though I wagered mine was slightly bigger. If, for some reason, I ended up being stuck in Max’s body forever, having a small dick would’ve made things a lot worse. The only reason I even noticed his testicles were small was that when I showered, I’d felt them while washing. At the time, I thought he was just a guy with small nuts, but now it made sense. He’d been juicing, and juicing can shrink a dude’s cojones from lack of testosterone.