by Lane Hart
Camden starts to fuss, so I tell Jordan I need to feed him but will pick up the game later. While my little man eats, I stoop to stalker level. Signing into Facebook one-handed on the phone for the first time in almost a year, I find Jordan and send him a friend request. Before I can regret my decision and take it back, he accepts. I practically squeal like a little girl when I have access to his page. All of his pictures, some on the beach wearing nothing but boardshorts, and then some with his brothers. All of them, including Jason.
Of course my heart hurts at the sight of him. I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember, but it was never enough. He doesn’t feel the same way. Now, I’ve learned my lesson. I can’t make him care about me or Camden, so it’s not worth the time and effort to try to change his mind.
…
Jordan
I sit in my truck after work, phone in my hand. The phone I’ve been sneaking and playing Words with Friends on all day back and forth with Maggie, after sending her a game request this morning.
So why am I staring at my phone? Because I want to see her, but I don’t have any excuse to show up at her apartment again tonight. Why do I want to do that? I have no fucking idea. Because she’s lonely and lives in a shitty neighborhood? Because I’m lonely? Probably a combination of all of the above.
I’m sure there are still leftovers from last night, so there’s no reason to take her dinner. She has the phone. What else is there for me to use as an excuse for showing up?
I could buy something for Camden. It didn't look like she has much for him.
Having a mission, I crank the ignition and head to Target. I’ve never shopped in the baby section, so it takes a second to find it in the center of the huge store. Once I’m there, the choices are overwhelming. I don’t know what the hell is “age appropriate” for him, so I ask a woman in a red shirt.
“Excuse me, ma’am, can you suggest something I should buy a four-week-old baby?” I ask her. She smiles while tapping a finger to the side of her mouth.
“Ooh, let me think. Four weeks. Boy or girl?”
“Boy.”
“Okay, what does he already have so we can narrow it down?”
“Not much,” I say with a frustrated sigh. “A bed and seat thing is all I saw.”
“No swing?” she asks.
“Swing? I don’t think so.” Why does he need a swing? I doubt Maggie takes him outside much; and he’s so small, he would fall right out of it. But I keep my mouth shut and follow the woman who is trying to help me. She leads me to a row of displayed baby equipment.
Ohhh. One of those swings. That makes more sense. Good thing I didn’t say anything or she would’ve thought I was an idiot.
“These are like magic for crying babies. Strap them in, and you’ll have hours of guaranteed peace and quiet.”
“That sounds perfect,” I tell her with a smile.
“Great! I would suggest the one that plugs into the wall, so you don’t have to keep buying batteries.”
“Yeah, let me get one of those.”
“Only one decision left. Teddy bears or zoo animals?” she asks, pointing to the two models.
“Um, zoo,” I decide since the colors are brighter. I guess babies can see colors.
Once I have the big box, I check out at the register and decide to go home to put it together, making sure it works before taking it over to Maggie tomorrow night.
After I have all the parts where the instructions say they go, I plug it in, and, what do you know? It works. Not only does it swing forward and back, but it also swings side to side, too. There’s a little mobile that makes the little animals circle around the top; and overall, it’s actually pretty damn cool. I’m admiring my handiwork when my oldest younger brother, Josh, walks through the front door without knocking, since all my brothers have a key.
“What the fuck is that?” he asks without a greeting.
Shit.
Rubbing a hand along the back of my burning neck I try to think up an explanation and come up empty.
“It’s a swing.”
“Yeah. I got that much. A fucking baby swing. But what the hell is it doing in your house?” he asks, walking circles around it like the device itself holds the answers.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and send Maggie a quick text, asking her if it’s okay to tell Josh and Jake if they swear to keep their mouths shut. Her instant response is, If you trust them. Thank goodness.
“Earth to Jordan. You knock someone up or what?”
“Nope, I didn’t. But your little brother did. The swing’s for your nephew.”
“Addison’s pregnant? Why the fuck did Jake tell you but not me?” he yells indignantly with his hands on his hips.
“Not that little brother. The other one.”
His angered expression turns to one of wide-eyed shock. “Jason knocked someone up? When? He’s been gone for months.”
“Camden’s a month old.”
“A month old…he’s already been born? Like Jason's a daddy and shit? Why the fuck did he tell you and not me?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“So then how did you find out?” Josh asks, scratching a hand through his dark, cropped hair in thought, just like our dad used to do.
“I happened to see Maggie Frasier in a grocery store when I was in Greensboro Sunday. Her baby’s only a few weeks old. It didn’t take a genius to do the math, so I asked her if it was his.”
“And you just believed some lying whore he's fucked a few times since high school? She’s full of-”
That’s all he gets out of his big mouth before I shove him backwards into the living room wall so hard a picture crashes to the floor.
“Holy shit! What the hell is wrong with you?” he blinks up at me in surprise since I’m a few inches taller.
“Watch your mouth. You don’t know shit about her,” I tell him, inches away from his face.
“Oh, and you do after seeing her for a few seconds in a grocery store? That slut opens her legs for anyone and everyone!”
“Shut the fuck up about her! She’s telling the truth. She’s raising Jason’s bastard on her own, barely getting by.”
“This has gold digger written all over it. Everyone knows about the big ass payout to mom and dad's estate,” he says, right before I sock him in the jaw with my fist. All of my brothers are dumbasses, and I’m betting that I’ll probably have to hit this one again.
“She’s not a fucking gold digger, and do I need to remind you to watch your mouth with my fist again?” I ask him, practically shaking with barely contained rage.
“You’re acting nuts, man," he says, rubbing his sore jaw. "What’s wrong with you?”
“Get the fuck out, and don’t you dare say a word about this to Jason. She doesn’t want him near the baby, and I can’t say I really blame her.”
“Listen to yourself, dickhead! Why wouldn’t she want you to tell him, unless she’s lying? It's some broke-ass fucker’s baby, and she's pawning it off on Jason for a payout!”
“Get out!” I yell and point toward the door in case he’s too stupid to remember where it is. He glares silently at me for several seconds before he finally walks out, slamming my front door behind him.
Chest still heaving with adrenaline, I sink down on the sofa and call my brother Jake to see if he thinks I’m being an idiot.
“Jordy, what’s up?” Jake answers with the name he’s called me since he started talking.
“Jake, hey, um, have you got a few minutes?” I ask. My brother’s a wide receiver, playing professional football in Charlotte for the Wildcats going on his fourth year, and he’s always busy, even in the off season. Especially since he started dating Addison, and she moved in with him.
“Yeah, sure. What’s up?” he asks.
“What would you say if I told you Jason got a girl pregnant?”
“That dumbass motherfucker,” he grumbles.
“Exactly.”
“Who’d he knock up?”
> “Maggie Frasier. Remember her?”
“Well, yeah. They’ve been together since high school, and he broke her heart over and over again.”
“Uh-huh. And now he’s left her broken-hearted with a one-month-old son.”
“Ah, shit. Why didn’t he tell us before now?”
“She said she told him before he left. He called her a liar and said she was just trying to get him back or some shit.”
“Sounds like something that asshole would do.”
“I know, right? When I told Josh, his first words were to accuse her of being a lying whore.” My fists clench, wanting to hit him again for saying that shit.
“Those two…Josh has always taken up for Jason and his screw-ups, usually because he was the instigator.”
“So, you don’t think I’m crazy for believing her?” I ask.
“No. I mean, if you talked to her, and she seems legit to you, then she probably is.”
“Yeah, and you won’t believe how shitty she’s living, having to take care of this baby on her own. Her apartment is in the worst possible part of Greensboro, and she barely affords to eat or feed him.”
“Damn, that sucks. The fucknut needs to cough up some child support.”
“Uh, that’s the thing. After how he acted, she’s decided that she doesn’t want him to have anything to do with the baby.”
“I don’t blame her,” he says on a sigh, echoing my sentiments. “So, I’m guessing you’re pitching in to make up for our sorry ass brother’s responsibility?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me know what you need. I can send some money for you to give her.”
“Thanks, Jake. Whatever you can do. I bought Camden a swing today, and I’m gonna take over to her tomorrow.”
“Camden? That the baby’s name?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Camden Douglas.”
“Well, if I didn’t believe her before, then I do now. Why would she give him Jason’s middle name if he wasn’t his?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”
“I can’t wait to tell Addy. She’ll probably want to buy him all sorts of baby shit.”
That makes me smile, because I can see her pulling up with her convertible so full of shit she has to put the top down. Addy’s a great girl, and my brother’s lucky to have her. He knows it too.
“If you want to see him some time, I can talk to Maggie.”
“Yeah, I do. What’s he look like?”
“Dark eyes and a little bit of dark hair. Really little and he eats all the time.”
“Sounds like one of us.”
“Yeah,” I agree with a chuckle. “I’ll take some pictures and send them to you.”
“Sounds like you’ve been spending a lot of time with him and this girl.”
“So? He’s my nephew. Our nephew,” I say defensively.
“I can’t believe I’m an uncle. That shit’s crazy.”
“It is indeed.”
“Mom and Dad would've been so damn happy to have a grandson."
"I know," I say and have to swallow past the tightening in my throat.
"Well, keep me updated.”
“Will do. See ya, Jake. Tell Addy hi.”
“I will. Later.”
Hanging up, I flip over to Facebook and see that Maggie’s posted several photos of Camden today. I click on the thumbs up symbol for each, liking them, and somehow find my way into her photo albums. The most recent pics before today are a year-old. Maggie looks so much younger, but rarely smiles in any of the photos. Most are group photos other people tagged her in. In fact, she doesn’t have any selfies, unlike most girls her age. Her pictures go all the way back to high school, and a few are from prom or a dance. One she probably went to with my dickhead brother. She looked pretty in a long black dress, but she still wasn’t smiling.
Since the green dot beside Maggie’s name is lit up, showing she’s online, I send her a message.
“I bought something for Camden today. Can I bring it to him with dinner after work tomorrow?”
Her response is almost instantaneous.
“You don’t have to do that, Jordan.”
Okay, she didn’t answer my question.
“And you’re his uncle, so you can see him anytime you want.”
Right, seeing my nephew should be the only agenda I have here. This is about helping take care of my brother’s son, not flirting with his mother. But for some reason, I just can’t stop thinking about her.
Chapter Six
Maggie
Wednesday afternoon I’m unable to sit still knowing Jordan’s on his way. He sent me a message last night telling me he had something for Camden he wanted to bring by after work with dinner. Of course I told him he didn’t need to do anything like that, but I didn’t tell him not to come. In fact, I'm excited about seeing him again. So much so that for the first time in what feels like forever I quickly blow-dried my long hair using the brush to curl the ends under and put on the tiny bit of makeup I had stashed away from before Camden was born.
Looking in the mirror at my floral dress that hides my baby fat, the same one I was wearing Sunday, I feel…almost human again. For weeks I’ve barely had time to shower every day and didn’t have much energy to do anything more. But today, I have a reason to want to try and look nice.
My shoulders slump at how idiotic this makes me. I still look like a hag compared to the man who will be here any minute now. Feeling stupid in the dress, I take it off and put on a tank top with a shelf bra and a pair of cotton shorts so it doesn’t look like I’m pathetic for trying so damn hard.
I’ve barely pulled the clothes on when I hear the knock on the door and rush to open it.
When I do, I’m expecting to see the tall, dark and handsome man, but not the huge, adorable baby swing. I’m actually speechless for several seconds.
“Hey,” Jordan says while I stand in the doorway, mute.
“Jordan, this is too much-” I start.
“Hush. There’s no reason I can’t buy shit for my nephew. Now let me in so I can show you how cool this thing is.”
Stunned and unable to do anything more than smile up at him, I move into the kitchen so that he can get through the door and carry the swing to the living room.
I watch in awe as Jordan picks up Camden like he’s done it a hundred times, not just once, and straps him into the cushioned papasan seat. After he plugs the cord in the wall, he reaches up to the top and presses a few buttons that makes it start to gently sway side-to-side, before he turns on the mobile and even turns on a quiet lullaby.
Camden’s eyes brighten as he tilts his head up to watch the little animals, a purple hippo, a green alligator, a blue elephant and orange tiger, go in circles around his head. Okay, this might be the best invention ever.
“Wow, Jordan. This is amazing,” I tell him.
“Yeah, and I think he actually likes it.”
“He does,” I affirm, watching Camden’s eyelids get heavier until they finally close. “And now I’m officially sold. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” Jordan says modestly, although I’m sure this thing was at least a hundred dollars, probably more. “So, let’s order some dinner.”
“Dinner?” I ask. Hasn’t he done enough? All his good deeds just end up making me feel guilty for not being able to afford this stuff on my own.
“Yeah, I was going to order something. Jimmy Johns?”
“Oh, go ahead, but I’m not hungry.”
After that statement he just…looks at me, his dark gaze heavy and intimidating. “Maggie?”
“Uh-huh?” I mutter, taking a seat on the couch.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
“I guess I’ll just have to get one of every sandwich since you won’t just tell me what the hell you want,” he says, pulling out his phone.
When he calls and starts giving an order to the person on the line, I finally give up and tell him turkey. With a smile, he adds c
hip, cookies and God only knows what else before ending the call. “They’ll be here so fast you’ll freak,” he tells me, sitting down on the other side of the sofa. Even with a cushion separating us, I can smell his yummy cologne, sweet and masculine at the same time.
We sit in silence, neither of us saying anything. Maybe we’re both hypnotized by watching the rhythmic motion of the swing.
“He has his one-month check-up tomorrow,” I say, unable to think of anything else to talk about.
“Oh, good. Let me know what they tell you,” Jordan replies.
“Sure.”
“Is it okay if I take a few pictures to send Jake?” he asks.
“Um, sure.”
He gets up and squats down in front of the swing to take a few shots with his phone, and then types on it before putting it away again.
“Jake said he’d like to see him sometime, him and his girlfriend Addison.”
“He’s the football player, right?” I ask.
“We all played football, but, yeah, Jake’s always been the best,” he chuckles. “Jason could’ve been if he wasn’t such a slacker.”
Jason had played football up until our sophomore year when his parents died, and then getting high or drunk took precedence over organized team sports. I was right there with him during most of the partying, so I can't act like I was any better.
“That damn swing is gonna put me to sleep,” Jordan says after several more silent moments go by.
“I could try and find something on TV?” I offer. The small television sitting on a plastic container only gets about ten stations. I usually just have it on in the background, the volume turned down low.
“No, that’s okay.”
I nod, and then my eyes start to get heavy. I rest my head on my arms propped up on the sofa arm rest, saying I’ll just rest a few minutes until the food gets here.
Camden’s cries wake me up. The dampness on my chest tells me he either slept through his last feeding or he’s been crying for a few minutes. Blinking my eyes open, I find Jordan pacing the floor, holding Camden on his shoulder, bouncing him and talking softly to him. It’s so sweet that my eyes start to water. Stupid hormones.
