by B. N. Toler
Helen continued to laugh, but I decided not to respond to her question. Obviously, I had checked out the equipment. As if anyone in my position wouldn’t have. There was no need to defend myself. “So on top of being in this prick’s body,” I seethed, “I’m dealing with the carnage of him abandoning his kid, the wrath of a woman he’s scorned, and I now have to endure the symptoms of steroid withdrawal?”
Helen’s face was red, and she was laughing so hard no sound was coming out. “This isn’t funny, Helen,” I insisted as I lifted Pim to my hip.
Covering her mouth with one hand as if it would blind me from the fact she was laughing her ass off at me, she held her other hand up in apology. It took her a few moments until she could speak. “Have no fear, big brother. Looks like he was prepared,” Helen interjected, wiping the tears from under her eyes. “There are supplements in there for coming down.”
“How do you know so much about this stuff?”
Helen shrugged. “I watched a documentary on ESPN with David. With him in football and baseball I wanted to horrify him to make sure he never uses them.”
The doorbell rang and my heart about leaped out of my chest. I’d planned for Helen to leave around 1:30 p.m. so she’d be long gone before Waverly returned. It was only noon.
“Shit,” I whisper-yelled. It couldn’t be Waverly. She wasn’t supposed to be back for over an hour. Moving across the floor like a ninja, I made it to the door without making a sound and peeked through the peephole before letting my head drop.
It was her.
“Shit,” I mumbled to myself.
“Shit,” Pim mimicked in her adorable little baby voice.
My eyes about bulged out of my head. “Shit,” I said again without thinking, drawing the word out, realizing I’d just taught this baby girl how to say a bad word.
“Liam!” Hel scolded, her eyes widened.
“Shit, fuck, sorry,” I apologized to Pim. “Shit,” I said again, realizing I kept repeating the word and added another bad one to boot. Working in a mechanic shop most of my life didn’t exactly encourage a demure vocabulary. Clearly, I was going to have to work on this, or I’d be responsible for children everywhere getting their mouths washed out with soap.
“Is this really happening?” Hel asked no one in particular, in disbelief I had just cursed so many times within a few seconds.
“Don’t say that word, little one. Your mother will have my balls on spikes for teaching it to you.”
“Balls,” Pimberly babbled in her cute baby voice. I smacked my hand to my forehead in frustration.
“Liam!” Hel scolded again as she took Pim from me and placed her on her hip.
The doorbell rang again, only this time we were back to ringing it sixty times in a three-second time frame. Waverly was an impatient one. I stood, frozen in place, for some reason unsure of what to do. All I could do was stare at Hel, my eyes wide in panic. Waverly was here. What the hell should I do?
“Go get the door, idiot,” Hel whisper-yelled, flinging her hand out in emphasis.
“Right. Good idea,” I agreed, snapping to. Hurrying to the door, I whipped it open, causing Waverly to jump on the other side waiting, seemingly surprised.
“Hi,” I rasped. “You’re early.”
“Uh, hi,” she responded awkwardly. “Class got canceled, so I got back early.” Standing on her tippy-toes, she peeked over my shoulder. “How did it go?”
Standing aside, I opened the door more to let her in. She walked by me and stopped as soon as she caught sight of Hel holding Pim. Twisting her neck, she looked back at me, narrowing her eyes in obvious anger.
“Who is holding my daughter?” she asked, her mouth tight. There was no missing it in her tone—she was pissed.
Damn. I hadn’t thought of how to introduce Helen. She was supposed to be gone before Waverly got back.
“Uh . . . this . . . is . . .” I stopped, officially stumped. It was obvious I had no idea what to say.
“I’m Helen,” Hel jumped in, reaching her hand out to shake Waverly’s. Helen was tense, jittery even. We were both having to wing our way through this mess, and it was no cake walk. Waverly took Helen’s hand, but only for a second before she snatched Pim from Hel’s arms. “I’m a friend of . . . Li . . . I mean Max’s,” she corrected herself.
Walking past Helen, she started picking up Pim’s things and tossing them in bags. “You couldn’t make it a few hours without calling one of your girlfriends in, Max?”
“Oh . . . ew,” Helen gagged. “No. Definitely not a girlfriend,” she hemmed and hawed, moving her body like she was about to regurgitate her breakfast. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
Waverly continued packing Pim’s belongings not acknowledging Helen. Leaning over, quietly, I said to Helen, “That wasn’t over the top at all. The gagging bit had a nice affect.”
Closing her eyes, she bobbed her head once, acknowledging she’d just looked and sounded ridiculous.
“She just ate,” I told Waverly. “She’s got a good appetite on her.”
Silence.
Waverly said nothing in response.
Darting my eyes to Helen, I widened them in silent question, What now?
Helen bit her lip, a look of uncertainty on her face, obviously equally uncomfortable with the quiet before blurting, “She pooped about an hour ago. Good amount and great consistency.”
Cutting my gaze to her, I twisted my features into a, Why the fuck are you talking about her poop, look. Helen rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in defense, her own look back to me saying, At least I said something, asshole. “Mom’s need to know about the poop,” she exclaimed. “If they don’t go or it’s too hard they could be constipated or if it’s loose or runny, they might be dehydrated. Poop matters,” she rambled on, awkwardly.
Raising my hand, I rubbed my forehead. This was a freaking train wreck. Waverly probably thought Helen was insane.
“Thanks for the info,” Waverly snipped. “Do you have children, Helen?”
“A son,” Helen told her, her mouth quirking into a smile as she thought about David. “He’s thirteen. And,” placing her hand on her small bump, she added, “Got one on the way, too.”
If a look could spray venom, I’d be blind, dead, or burned. Waverly’s dark eyes fixed on Helen’s bump before moving to my eyes with such anger I had to take a step back. “Nice, Max,” she seethed. “You going to ditch this baby, too?”
Chunking a bag in the wagon, she grabbed the handle and yanked it forward, bulldozing through Helen and me. “Unbelievable,” she griped as she headed to the front door, Pim still on her hip.
Helen jerked her stare to me, eyes wide as she pointed a firm finger at her belly. “She thinks this is your baby.”
I didn’t mean to sneer, but this was my sister. It didn’t matter if I was in Max’s body or not, the thought was gross.
Helen smacked my arm, bringing me to my senses. “Max’s baby, Liam. Go after her, idiot!” Twisting me, she began pushing me toward the door to catch Waverly at the elevator.
“And say what? She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. She hates Max. You can fix this.”
I stopped dead in my tracks causing Helen to grunt as she attempted to move me without success. Spinning around, I said, “Helen. I’m not Max. I can’t do anything that could alter his life. What if we switch back and I’ve fucked everything up for him?”
“Well, at the very least you know that this is not his baby, Liam. You can fix that. Don’t let her leave thinking this deadbeat asshole ditched their kid while moving on to play daddy to another.”
Clenching my fists, I groaned. I hated this. I hated being Max. His life was a web of selfishness that made everyone feel like shit. Now I had to figure out a way to calm Waverly down while still preserving his assholishness.
“Waverly, wait!” I yelled as I sprinted into the hall. She was already at the elevator, the doors having just opened when I found her. When she saw me, she jerke
d the wagon inside and hoisted Pim up further on her hip before she started repeatedly hitting the close doors button. I barely made it in time, and just before they closed, I stuck my foot out and stopped them.
“Really?” I questioned, almost out of breath from running.
“What, Max?” she snapped. “My taxi is waiting.”
“That’s not my baby,” I sputtered, jabbing my thumb back toward the apartment. “Definitely not my baby,” I reaffirmed as the thought of it once again made me shiver.
“Oh?” she snorted. “Planning on disowning this one, too?”
Her dark eyes met mine, a look that said she was somewhere between believing me and thinking I was a bold-faced liar before she looked away.
“I swear. The baby really isn’t mine.” It didn’t occur to me at that moment to realize that I was the one swearing to her, but it was Max she heard and saw. His promises didn’t mean shit to her.
Shaking her head a few times, she took a deep breath. “I don’t care,” she answered, her eyes fixed on the buttons. “Now move.”
I stared at her a moment. Should I just let her leave? I hated to let her take off when she was angry, but what else could I do? She was hurt. Not just because she thought Helen’s baby might be Max’s, but in general. This was a hurt that had been built over a long time; a hurt that had never been acknowledged, at least not by Max. Somewhere along the way, this man had broken her and somehow she’d managed to exist wearing the pain as if it were as natural as her skin. The way she carried it with such strength had me in awe. Pain isn’t traditionally beautiful, but somehow, it was on her. She was like broken glass; one might react quickly to pick up the shattered pieces, hoping to mend what was broken, only to find themselves cut; there was no doubt a woman like this could make a man bleed. But broken glass isn’t always a risky mess. If someone has the patience to just sit back and wait, they might see that sometimes the light hits the scattered shards just right, and then that broken mess sparkles in a way it never could have before.
“I’ll be dropping her off at 8 a.m. tomorrow,” she added just before the elevator doors closed.
My head reared back, luckily she didn’t see it. Damn. What was I going to do? Trudging back into the apartment, I slammed the door behind me and ran my hands through my hair as I let out a loud growl of frustration.
“How’d it go?” Helen asked from the kitchen where she was sipping a glass of water in front of the sink.
“Not good,” I grumbled. Opening up the fridge, I growled again. “He doesn’t even have any food here. There’s nothing in here but cheese and fancy fucking wine.”
“Don’t hate on fancy wine,” she tried to joke to ease my frustration. “I’ve conceived two babies under the influence of fancy wine.”
Despite my anger, I snorted a laugh. “I doubt it was fancy wine when you conceived David,” I pointed out, still staring into the fridge. “His father probably bought something five bucks or under from the gas station.”
“Well, for as young as we were it seemed fancy to me at the time,” she shrugged.
Slamming the fridge door shut, I grabbed my hair with my fists. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“You’re not,” she assured me. “You’re just hungry. Grab a burger somewhere, and I’ll bring some groceries in the morning for you.”
“She’s bringing Pim back tomorrow.”
Helen’s features lit up as she grinned widely. “She is?”
“Helen,” I warned.
“Oh, stop it,” she waved a dismissive hand. “Have you thought about what will happen if you never leave his body, Liam?”
I stared at her blankly. I had only let my mind stick its big toe in the pool of that thought; letting it test the water, but nothing more. Venturing too far in that direction could be dangerous. I didn’t want to let myself get attached to Max’s life whether it be his money and fancy place, or his gorgeous ex and precious baby girl—neither of which he wanted. Not to mention his dick was smaller than mine—maybe only slightly smaller, but I didn’t want to get used to that. However, the pool of that thought was getting bigger, and it wouldn’t be long until I might have to jump in and wade around in the water. There was also the reality that if I did, in fact, remain in his body permanently, I would have to make changes from the floor up, starting with his overall selfish behavior.
“You could be her daddy, Liam,” Helen added, her tone somewhat sad yet hopeful.
“No,” I stated adamantly. “Don’t go there, Helen.”
She placed her glass on the counter and stepped toward me. “This is just a hypothetical,” she asserted. “All I’m saying is that yes, this situation sucks a lot on one hand, but if you do get stuck in here,” she jabbed my chest to emphasize the body I was inhabiting, “there is a silver lining.”
“And what’s that?” I snickered. “I just assume his identity completely? Pretend to be that little girl’s dad?”
“Why not?” she demanded. “It’s not like that asshole wants her.”
Grabbing Max’s keys from the counter, I opened the front door, indicating it was time for her to go. I knew her heart was in the right place, she was only trying to show me a bright side, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. “Don’t do that,” I warned her. “Neither of us can get attached here. You understand?”
“Liam,” she breathed my name as if I was being ridiculous.
“Max,” I told her. “For now you need to call me Max. The last thing I need is to go falling in love with a little girl that isn’t mine, or have her get attached to Max, just to leave her. What would that do to her?”
“What if you stay as Max forever, Liam? Are you just going to keep everyone at arm’s length? What good is this situation if you don’t get to live?”
“I don’t know!” I shouted, and immediately held my hand up in apology. “It’s only been two days, Hel. Just give me . . . a minute, okay?”
She frowned, but bobbed her head once in agreement. “I’m going to see your body, or I guess Max, at the hospital. Wanna join me?”
“Nah,” I groaned. “Think I’m going to go for a walk . . . clear my head. You don’t need to go, ya know.”
“I know, but I want to.” Coming up to me, she wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly. Then, standing back she gave my face a smack.
“What the hell was that for?” I mocked pain as I rubbed my cheek.
“Because you really are a pain in my ass,” she chided as she passed by me, swinging her purse over her shoulder. “Try to get some sleep tonight. You look like shit.”
I snorted as I watched her leave. “And read the directions on those scripts,” she yelled over her shoulder. “Now that you’re off those steroids, your estrogen levels will be through the roof. I expect you’ll be acting like a little bitch for a while.”
Just then, the apartment door closest to the elevator swung open, and an older woman with short gray hair poked her head out, her face twisted in disgust. She must’ve heard Helen’s very lady-like statement about me crying like a little bitch.
“Hi there,” I waved, embarrassed that she heard our exchange. With a curled lip, the woman huffed and slammed the door.
“Thanks, Hel,” I said sardonically as she stood facing the elevator, her shoulders rising and falling in laughter. Turning as she stepped on the elevator, she crossed her arms and looked me up and down, her mouth twisted in distaste.
“Please go get some new clothes,” she deadpanned.
The doors shut, and I snickered to myself. My sister. The sweetest little asshole you’d ever meet.
With Max’s keys in hand, I went to leave when something caught my eye. It was a tiny white stuffed giraffe; one of Pim’s toys. Picking it up, I inspected it, chuckling a little as I remembered pretending to be the giraffe as I sang to Pim in a goofy voice. The kid laughed her ass off at me. Setting it on the counter, I shook my head.
“Don’t get attached Liam,” I grumbled to myself.
Pim and I
got home on the early side, so after a long walk around the neighborhood and some time at a nearby playground, she was wiped out. I had just finished feeding her dinner when Matt got home. By the slow way he moved, I could tell he was tired. Maybe he was worried about Pim staying with Max all day, or maybe it had just been a long day in general. Half his shirt was untucked, and he looked like he’d been rolling in dirt all day. Working as a general contractor wasn’t always the cleanest work.
He only mumbled a hello to me—clearly still unhappy with me—but managed a friendlier greeting for Pim. Sitting down beside her, I watched him peripherally as he inspected her, lifting her arms and looking at the bottom of her feet. I didn’t know what he thought he was looking for. Did he think Max would beat her with bamboo sticks or something?
“She’s fine, Matt,” I murmured.
Before he could respond, the back door opened, and we heard, “Hello,” in a sing-song voice. Alice, Matt’s long-time girlfriend traipsed in, a bright smile on her face. “It is so damn hot outside,” she groaned as she kicked her shoes off into the ever-growing shoe pile and hung her purse at the door. “I got all my bags packed, and all we have to do is swing by my apartment on the way to the airport to get them. I think I packed everything but the kitchen sink,” she jested as she fanned the top of her dress to cool herself off. Her hair was pulled back in a clip, and her dress was damp with sweat. “I love summer, but this humidity is . . .” she froze in her tracks, her words also stopping when she finally saw us. Darting her eyes from Matt to me, then back to Matt again, she raised her brows in question. “Is . . . everything okay?”
“Why don’t you ask Waverly,” Matt replied snidely, not even looking at her, as he kissed Pim’s hand.
Closing my eyes to avoid rolling them, I let out a defeated sigh. “Hi, Alice. Yes, everything is fine. Matt and I are just having a little disagreement.”
