by B. N. Toler
My eyes welled up, my stomach knotting. “Max,” I breathed, his name heavy. “I couldn’t get rid of her. I-I-I couldn’t do that. Not to my baby—our baby.”
In a quick, frustrated move, he jerked to his feet and stood behind his desk. “How much, Waverly?”
“I don’t want your money, Max,” I cried. “Just look at her. Please. Just one time.”
Rounding the desk, he stared down at Pimberly. I waited for a smile, a look of softness that a father looking at his infant child for the first time might create to capture his features, but he showed nothing. All I saw was a stoic expression.
“Take her out of here and do not come to my office again. I will be informing security that you’re not to enter the building.”
My face felt numb as the blood drained from it. My child was fatherless. My husband had disowned us. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want me. I was all alone.
When I picked Pimberly up, looping the handle of the car seat over my arm, I couldn’t speak a word to him for fear of falling into a mess of sobs. If I was going to make it out of that building with even the smallest shred of my dignity, that couldn’t happen. So I said nothing.
Speaking one word would be the demise of the fine thread holding me together.
My legs were weak as I moved, my head was foggy, but still . . . I moved, willing my body to go beyond its abilities. Just as I reached for the door handle, Max delivered the final blow. “I’ll sign my rights over to you. Send me the paperwork.”
At that moment I realized I’d been wrong. My heart could hurt more.
As I climbed into my cab, I looked up at Max’s building, wiping under my eyes. Even that memory, almost two years later, could knock the air out of me.
Matt was right. Leaving Pim with Max was wrong. This would be the last day. If he refused to sign the papers, I’d call his father. The last thing Max would ever want is for his father to find out he’d had a baby with someone of my low social class. I wasn’t even sure he knew we were married.
This would be the last day.
It had been ten minutes since Waverly left, and I was expecting Helen to show up at any moment, so when the doorbell rang I wasn’t surprised. When I opened the door, though, it wasn’t Helen. It was a guy.
A big guy.
He looked me up and down, snickering to himself before muttering, “Been a long time, Max.” Even with his Yankees hat pulled down covering his eyes, it wasn’t hard to tell he didn’t like me. Having no idea who he was, I had no idea how to respond. Had it been a long time?
“This is ridiculous, Matthew,” a woman said from beside him. I couldn’t see her, but it wasn’t hard to hear the annoyance in her tone.
“Stay out of it, Alice,” the man, Matthew, piped back.
“She here?” he asked, his stare intent on me.
“Is who here?”
He snorted and looked at the woman beside him as if saying, can you believe this guy?
“My niece,” he grunted. “You know, the little girl I’ve been helping raise because you’re a deadbeat asshole.”
Running a wide palm down my face, I fought the groan I wanted to let out. This dude was Waverly’s brother—of course it was. My shoulders sagged as I realized I’d had yet to meet even one person that thought well of Max. So far, all I’d come across were people that thought he was evil, and they weren’t wrong.
“We’re going to miss our plane, Matt,” the woman asserted, forcing him aside so she could see me. A tall woman, her mouth quirked in a smile that was anything but pleasant said, “Hello, Max.”
“Uh . . . hi,” I managed. Again, I had no idea who she was.
“Matt would like to see Pim before we catch our flight to Europe. May we come in?” Whoever she was, she didn’t waste time. She was straight to the point.
Glancing back at Pim, I noticed she was halfway to me. Smiling, she let out a few excited gurgles as she waddled her way over. Knowing she was excited to see Matt, I stepped aside allowing him entrance.
“My girl,” Matt preened as he whizzed by me. Gone was the macho tough-guy persona from moments before, now he was acting like a teddy bear. That wasn’t hard to understand, Pimberly could make even the manliest men soft-hearted—I knew this from personal experience. When he picked her up, he continued walking further into the apartment away from the door. I guess he didn’t much care if Max wanted him there or not. Alice, cutting a quick glance at me, pursed her mouth, more like saying sorry, but not really sorry.
Matt wrapped Pim up in a big hug as he held her head to his shoulder.
“She’s fine, Matt,” Alice asserted as she ran a soft hand over Pim’s head. “Now say goodbye. We have to go.”
“I fucking hate this,” Matt muttered quietly.
“Language, Matt,” Alice scolded as she smacked his arm.
Hearing Matt curse, I felt some relief. At least if little Pim started babbling the f-bomb, I wasn’t the only one to blame. I stood watching them, my hands in my pockets, as they spoke softly to Pim and each other before Matt noticed me gawking and narrowed his stare at me.
“You want a picture or something, Max?” he grumbled.
“Matthew,” Alice groaned after letting out an exasperated breath.
I hadn’t realized I’d been staring, but I was. Everything happening didn’t feel like it was happening to me, but it was, even though I felt like an outsider looking in.
“What? This fucking guy spends two days with her and wants to watch me like I’m some asshole that could hurt her.”
Letting out a snort, I decided not to comment. I was feeling defensive, and it made no sense. I wasn’t Max. I wasn’t a douchebag like him, and Matt’s anger was not directed at me. But at the same time . . . I was Max, and someone being a dick to you still gets your hackles up. Just keep your cool, Liam, I told myself.
“Can I get anyone water or . . .” I stopped, realizing what an idiot I sounded like. What the hell was I doing? Offering beverages?
“No, we’re leaving,” Alice replied quickly. Then looking at Matt, she tugged on his shirt sleeve. “Come on, Matt. Waverly wouldn’t want us here.”
Handing Pim to Alice, he kissed the back of her head one more time. “Goodbye, baby,” Alice hugged Pim tightly before setting her on the floor.
Matt fixed his narrowed eyes on me, his stare conveying nothing but anger. “I haven’t forgotten, Max,” he growled. “If it were up to me, I’d never let you lay eyes on this little girl ever again.” Pointing a firm finger at me, he continued, “Do us all a favor, Max. Sign the fucking papers. We all know you don’t want her, and you certainly don’t deserve her.”
When he barged out of the apartment, Alice lifted her chin in indignation as if telling me she agreed with him before she followed Matt out. Letting my shoulders sag, I stared at the open door. I felt deflated. Bearing the burden of all the hate for Max was becoming a bit too much to carry. How could he live like this every day?
“Oh no,” Pim exclaimed, her hands on her cheeks. I snorted out a chuckle as I picked her up and went to the door to close it.
“Oh no is right, little sweetheart,” I sighed.
“What are we doing here?” Helen asked as she slid in the restaurant booth. After I slipped Pimberly in the high chair the hostess had brought over, I sat across from her, placing the gift bag I’d brought beside me. The truth was, I had a plan. However, I also desperately needed to get out of that apartment. The last few days had been a whirlwind with this body switch and dealing with Max’s train wreck of a life. I needed something good. Coming to the diner was killing two birds with one stone.
“You got a problem with a free breakfast?” I grumbled.
“I brought you groceries this morning. We could’ve made breakfast.”
“Helen,” I sighed. “It’s a long story. Just drop it.”
“Damn, you’re grumpy,” she poked at me. “Just goes to show you can take an a-hole out of the body but you can’t take the body out of the—” she paused
and shook her head. When I raised one brow at her, letting her know she sounded like an idiot, she glared at me. “You know what I meant, Liam.”
“You have a way with words,” I said dryly.
“What’s in the bag?” she queried, changing the subject.
“It’s nothing,” I dismissed her, shrugging one shoulder. “Something I picked up last night while I was out.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, our waitress, Mary, approached. “Morning,” she chirped, a bright and friendly smile strewn across her face. Wearing her usual uniform with her hair pulled up, she looked exactly as she had the last time I’d seen her. “Look at this little beauty,” she cooed as she bent to Pimberly’s level. Pimberly stared at her, before her eyes fixed on the pad of paper in Mary’s hand and she grabbed for it.
“No, no,” I tsked.
Mary stood, giving me a wink, waving her hand. “That’s okay. I’ll grab her some paper and crayons we keep in the back.”
“That’s nice of you.” The woman was good through and through.
“You guys know what you want to order or do you need a few minutes?”
I looked to Helen. “Think she’d eat a cheeseburger?” I asked, tilting my head toward Pim.
Helen stared at me blankly for a moment before looking at Mary. “Pancakes for the little one,” she began. “And I’ll just have coffee.” Then moving her eyes to me, she mumbled, “Nine o’clock in the morning and he wants to give her a cheeseburger.”
She had a point. Twisting my mouth, slightly embarrassed, I said to Mary, “Kind of new to this whole kid thing. I’ll have a BLT please and coffee.”
“Anything else?” Mary chirped as she jotted my order down.
I couldn’t help smiling at her. She couldn’t know I admired her because she didn’t know I knew her . . . sort of knew her anyway. I knew enough. This woman fed me when I was hungry and never expected a thing in return. Every person in this restaurant only saw a pretty lady in a uniform, but I saw an angel.
“That’s it, Mary. Thank you,” I answered after a beat. As she hustled away, I watched her, thankful for people like her in this world.
“So. . . .” Helen hinted, drawing my attention. “You got a thing for this waitress or what?”
“No,” I shook my head adamantly. “Nothing like that.”
Helen smirked in a way that told me she didn’t believe me. “The way you were looking at her says differently.”
“It’s not like that Helen. You’re way off base,” I insisted as I handed Pim a few Cheerios from a zip-top baggie Waverly had packed.
“Then why were you looking at her like that?” My sister never let up sometimes. It could be so damn frustrating.
“Drop it, Helen,” I moaned in annoyance.
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Tell me,” she demanded.
“Because she fed me, Helen,” I growled, keeping my voice low so others around us couldn’t hear, but with enough emphasis to indicate I was angry. I wasn’t angry about her asking, I was ashamed, and somehow it manifested to anger. I didn’t want to have to explain to my sister that I held Mary in the highest regard because she fed her worthless homeless brother food when he couldn’t pay for it for himself.
Helen’s features went slack. “Fed you . . . you mean when you were living on the streets?”
“Yes,” I snapped, sitting back, clenching my fist under the table as I pressed it to my leg. I was so damn angry, and I hated that. I was a prideful man, I knew this. Pride had kept me away from Helen; I was too ashamed to face her in my circumstances. I never wanted to be a man irrational about his pride; a man that let it make me act like an asshole. Unfortunately, my anger was only partially due to my pride and shame. Mostly it was due to the savage withdrawals from steroids. It was coming to the point that literally, every second of every day, one truth was reiterated; Max was a fucking idiot. I felt like raging one minute and weepy the next. I nearly goddamned cried that morning when Pim got excited about watching bike videos again. What the hell was that about? I thought I was losing my mind. Then, a moment of lust came over me as I watched Waverly bite her lip. She was a gorgeous woman, but even that moment was off; I felt attracted to her, but physically, downstairs, not even a twinge. Apparently, Max was facing erectile dysfunction as well. I really fucking hated Max.
With a few deep breaths, I managed to calm myself and try to explain as Helen’s lower lip trembled. She wanted to cry and was trying her damnedest not to. I wasn’t sure if my small anger tantrum had upset her or the revelation of who Mary was to me had, maybe it was both. Either way, I hated to see my sister hurt.
“There’s no crush,” I explained, calmly. “I’m not attracted to her. I’m just . . . grateful to her, okay?” When she moved her gaze to her hands where they were joined on the table, I felt awful. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“Don’t be sorry, Liam,” she murmured just as Mary dropped our coffees at the table.
“Food will be up shortly,” Mary informed us.
“Thank you,” Helen said softly, her eyes teary as she smiled up at Mary. Poor Mary. She didn’t realize a couple of seemingly whack jobs would be occupying one of her tables this morning. We weren’t crazy . . . not entirely anyway, but anyone taking a moment to observe might believe differently. I was shouting, Helen was crying, and I was trying to feed a baby a cheeseburger at nine in the morning.
Mary’s stare darted from Helen to me in question before moving back to Helen. “You okay, hon?” Even as nuts as we seemed, she asked the question with sincerity. She wasn’t judging us at all.
Helen wiped under her eyes and chuckled a little, embarrassed. “Oh, I’m fine. I think my pregnancy hormones are just making me emotional,” she lied. At least her lie looked believable when she rubbed her belly.
Mary congratulated her, and by the time she left our table, Helen had told Mary about how her delivery with David had been hell—26 hours of labor—and she was hoping this baby would be a C-section. When Mary finally managed to escape the madness, I had to try and lighten the mood.
“Thanks for sparing us the description of afterbirth and not telling her about how you poo’d on the table.”
Helen whipped her gaze to me, her stare filled with shock. Tilting her head, she asked, “What?”
Holding my hands up, I chuckled a little. “It was just a joke.”
She shook her head. “I’m just surprised you remembered is all and, by the way, I didn’t poo on the table,” Helen sassed, cutting her eyes away from me. The truth was, she did. How did I know this? Oh, only because I somehow got stuck being in the delivery room with her when she gave birth to David because his father was a douche bag and I was the only family member alive to be there for her. David was premature, and the whole thing was scary as fuck, and there was no other choice. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but my baby sister needed someone in there that loved her, and I wouldn’t let her go it alone. My eyes were closed for about 90 percent of the delivery, and I remained near Helen’s head the whole time, facing away from the main event, but I do remember the doctor telling her not to worry, it happens all the time as they tore the paper under her away and disposed of it. It was one of those let’s never, ever talk about it things. That and she threatened to murder me in my sleep if I did. “Even if I had poo’d,” she whispered her last word “it’s part of giving birth. It’s all part of the . . . beauty.” She waved her hand haphazardly.
I laughed.
Loudly.
Then Pim started laughing, or more like bellowing too, and I laughed even more.
Helen, try as she did, shook a little as she tried to stop herself from laughing, too. Holding one hand up, she blocked her other hand from Pim’s line of sight as she flipped me the bird. “Asshole,” she mouthed. As I said before, we were crazy, just not entirely.
After we had eaten, I gathered Pim up and handed her to Helen. “You mind taking her outside so I can talk to Mary
for a second?”
“Come here, baby,” Helen cooed as she reached for Pim. When Pim looked up at me before nestling her head against my chest, I couldn’t help but grin. She liked me. She didn’t want to leave me.
Helen’s mouth quirked up as she rubbed Pim’s back. “Looks like you’ve got a fan.”
My throat tightened. Something about that moment felt so good. I felt . . . happy? Or was it sad? I kind of wanted to . . . cry? What the hell was that about? I don’t cry . . . ever. Damn these emotions! Steroids were the epitome of evil. Maybe my reaction was over the top due to the steroids, but that didn’t change that the moment was incredibly sweet, but with that thought came a brutal reality. Pim liked me which meant maybe she was getting attached. Of course, I realized it wasn’t just her. I was getting attached, too.
Kissing the top of her head, I told her, “I’ll be right out, little sweetheart. Go with Helen, and then we can play in the park for a bit.”
She squawked a little as Helen took her, but when I handed her some more Cheerios from the baggie, she quieted down as she frantically shoved her entire little fist in her mouth trying to eat them. Helen and I both chuckled.
“Better hand me that baggie, just in case,” Helen said. With Pim on her hip and the baggie in her free hand, she headed outside. As soon as they were out the door, Mary came over and began clearing the remaining dishes from our table. When I cleared my throat to get her attention, she set the dishes down and turned to me, a bright smile on her face.
“You guys forget something?”
“I actually wanted to give you something,” I began. I knew handing Mary a large sum of cash would be met with refusal, so I braced myself. With a quick glance around the restaurant, I checked to see if anyone was watching us. I didn’t want to make Mary a target for some thief because they saw her accept a lot of money. When I felt it was safe, I began. “This is for you.” As I held out my hand with the folded hundred dollar bills, Mary’s smile faded into a confused frown as she realized what it was.
