Tiller

by Shey Stahl

  “Ow, fuck.” I place my hand under her chin and pry her wet mouth off my hand. “Stop that. I like girls who bite, but there’s gotta be grass on the field.” Berlin’s barely over a year old and cute as fucking ever. She stares at me, then grins a big two-teeth smile at me.

  But I’ll pause on the drool-monster for a moment. Pay attention to the movie. Do you see the beast outside on the balcony with Belle? Do you notice when he says, “It’s foolish for me to think someone like me could ever win your affection?”

  Or something like that.

  Remind you of any situation currently going on in my life? If not, I’ll tell you a story. And it has everything to do with a flower. Same kind of flower in the movie, I might add.

  I’ll even set the scene for you. Picture Southern California, two kids on the playground at school, sunny day. . . and a little boy with severe anxiety he doesn’t yet understand—still doesn’t—and a shy girl afraid of the boy’s darker side. She knows him well, and his temper. After all, even at five, he’s beaten up every boy who’s shown interest in her, including his older brother. So the boy, he hands the girl a rose one day and asks her to be his girlfriend.

  She says. . . no.

  The boy eats the flower.

  The girl kicks the boy in the balls.

  That boy? Me. The girl? Amberly. We got history for sure.

  How odd is it that I’m sitting here with River watching this movie and the rose is losing all its petals, and the beast is groveling in his misery for losing the girl?

  I grab the remote and River stops me. Berlin takes it and chews on it. “Why him not fight?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “The beast?”

  “Yeah?”

  “He’s a pussy.”

  She stares at me curiously, but she lets it go and hands me a list from her backpack. I open it and frown.

  Amberly left a fucking list of everything River couldn’t do at my house. I look at her. “This is stupid. What are you allowed to do?”

  River shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I’ve never been good at following rules.”

  She leans in, grinning. “I not supposed to pee in the tub. But I do. All the time.”

  “I’m sure you’re not the only one.” It’s hot in here, probably because I have now two kids climbing on me. The pool’s looking better and better. “Can you swim?”

  River shrugs. “No.” I can’t believe a kid who lives in California can’t swim. Hell, Berlin can swim and she’s one.

  “Well, let’s learn then.” Scooping booth kids up, I jump in the pool with both of them. All of us fully clothed.

  Oh, relax. Don’t go freaking out and calling child protective services on me. I jumped in too and she only swallowed a little water. You didn’t think I’d sit on the couch all day and babysit, did you?

  Get this. I take her on my dirt bike next. She’d never been on one before. I even put a helmet on her, and I wasn’t even drunk.

  And here’s where my heart turns from a hard-ass crazy fucker to maybe sort of a dad. A small resemblance of one.

  It’s when River looks up at me with her helmet on, twisting around on the seat of my dirt bike, her cheeks squished together, curiosity dancing in her face. Dirt’s smeared on her chubby cheeks with a faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. “I like you,” she says.

  The words hit my chest like the wind’s been knocked out of me. You would have thought she told me she loved me, but then again, nobody likes me so to have this kid, my kid, tell me she likes me is enough to make me want to hug her.

  I wink at her. “You know, kid, I think I might like you too.”

  “We should be friends.”

  “I think that can be arranged.”

  Shade rides by on his dirt bike heading to the foam pit to work on his jumps. He takes a double take at River. “Are you insane?”

  “Yes. And she’s fine. Look. She loved it.”

  “Amberly’s going to kill you.”

  Turning River around, I rev the bike, shifting into first gear. “Not if you don’t tell her.”

  Shade takes off ahead of us and takes the first jump while doing a 360. That gets River’s attention for sure. She points at him, her voice muffled under the helmet when she yells out, “I wanna do that!”

  “That?”

  Her tiny body tenses with excitement. “Yeah!”

  “Um, no.” I might be crazy but taking a kid on a jump is not safe. I once did a backflip with Camden on my bike, but he knew to not let go. I can’t say he went unscathed either. When we landed, his front teeth split his top lip in half. In. Half. Took ten stitches and a week of pudding for the kid, but he says he doesn’t regret it.

  But then she says, “Pease.”

  Well shit, how do you say no to the word pease? Something strangely adorable about the missing L.

  With my heart pounding faster than any high I’ve ever had, I take her on a jump and guess what? We land perfectly, but I know she’s my daughter when she screams in my face and points to the seventy-five-foot ramp we use for training that stretches over the irrigation ditch. The same one I landed in when I greased the landing and ended up with a broken wrist and bit by a rattle snake I disrupted in the process.

  “Dat one! Do dat one!”

  “No way.” I draw the line. “Come on. I’ll toss you in the foam pit.”

  Any time we’re working on a trick, we practice it in the foam pit first. It’s far more forgiving that dirt. So I set her up on that and jump off with her on my bike, hoping it doesn’t crush her. I mean, she has a helmet on. It’s all good. And then guess what happens?

  Don’t freak out, but I lose her. It’s like fucking fifteen-feet deep so I have to do some searching. But I find her missing a shoe with a big grin and ready to go again.

  Her bright eyes beam. “This is the best day of my life.”

  I don’t say anything to her, at least not to that effect, but her words rattle around in my head as I attempt to make sense of them. I can’t, other than the way they make my heart swell and my words choke. “Wait until you see our candy wall inside the house.”

  She likes the idea of that. I run my hand through my hair and take a deep breath, watching her. One girl who’s three feet tall, and she has the power to unravel everything I’d held onto for so long.

  I’m having one of those panic attacks where I’m pretty sure I need a paper bag and maybe even some Xanax chewable. I’ve never been good at swallowing pills. They make them in a chewable form, right? It’s probably better that they don’t because then it’d be like those Flintstone vitamins I had as a child and I ate the whole bottle in one sitting thinking they were gummy bears.

  I had to have my stomach pumped, but that’s a story for another day. Let’s just say if you give me something, and I like it, I’m going to finish it.

  I’m nauseas. What if she gets hurt? This is crazy. I need to go get her.

  No, you don’t.

  And now I’m talking to myself. Awesome. Do you see me in the driveway of Ava’s house? I’m the one parked behind the moving van, next to Alexandra’s Mercedes. Why she’s not on her honeymoon is a mystery to me. Probably didn’t go because of what happened at the wedding and she’s going to blame it on me.

  When I walk into Ava and Cullen’s house, Kona greets me immediately. I had left him in the kennel when I left this morning which means Alexandra let him out. His tail wags like he’s happy to see me, but Alexandra, I can’t say the same for her. She looks kinda of pissed, oh, wait, that’s just her usual look.

  Looking around me, she stares blankly. “Where’s River?”

  Pushing the front door closed with my foot, I grab Kona by the collar so he doesn’t get out the front door. “With Tiller for a few days. I don’t want her here while we move out the only life she’s known.”

  Her face screws from pissed to unbelieving. “Are you crazy? Why would you leave her with Tiller?”

  Rolling my eyes, I pat my thigh,
coaxing Kona as I move through the formal living room and attempt to get him to the backyard. It’ll make moving boxes out easier without him under our feet. “He’s her dad, Alexandra.”

  “No, Cullen was her dad. Tiller is just a guy who apparently gave them what they wanted. He has no business being around her.”

  I stop walking once I’m in the kitchen and turn to face her. “He’s not going to hurt her. Despite what you and our parents think.” I wonder if she understands the meaning, and if she had anything to do with them filing a petition for custody. Look at her, she did.

  “He’s crazy. Do you know how many times he’s been arrested? It was so irresponsible of you to leave him with her, and after what he pulled at the wedding, this is just ridiculous.”

  Her words aren’t anything I haven’t heard before. “You’re being dramatic. And shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?”

  “Terrance has a record dropping next week and couldn’t take time off.” Her words come out fast, like she can’t believe she has to explain this to me. “What if River gets hurt? How will you feel then?”

  Kind of like I did when my sister died, I suppose.

  “I didn’t have much of a choice, Alexandra. You sold the house, and I didn’t want her here to see us moving all their stuff out of the only home she’s ever known. It’s been traumatizing enough for her lately.”

  “You could have left her with me.”

  I pretend to be appalled, and I kind of am so it’s not all that hard to achieve the look. “She’s better off with Tiller.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means maybe River deserves some spontaneity in her life. All she’s ever known is schedules and proper eating. Maybe being a kid might do her some good.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Kids need schedules.”

  Bending down, I grab a box from the kitchen counter and just as I lift it, the bottom falls out and everything crashes on my feet. Here’s a tip for you while moving. Don’t wear sandals.

  Alexandra rolls her eyes and bends down to pick up cookbooks that I swear have broken my middle toe.

  It’s when we’re on the ground, stacking the books back in a new box, when I stare at Alexandra. “She gave me custody of River because she wanted me to raise her. I can’t convince you what she did was right, because I don’t know myself, but it doesn’t make it any easier to constantly have you and our parents undermining a decision I didn’t make.”

  Look at her. Do you think she’s contemplating what I said? This is Alexandra after all, but you might be surprised to know her features soften from her usually cold and withdrawn, to sincere. “I know that, Amberly, but I’m thinking of River here. You’re not exactly stable.”

  “I got a bigger apartment,” I point out, as if that qualifies me. But then I think, who is she to decide if I’m stable? Just because she has her life together doesn’t make her stable either. It just means she landed a rich guy and gets to live off him. She’s never even held a damn job before.

  “Who’s paying for it?” she has the nerve to ask. I’m going to pause here. Just for a moment. I think it’s important to tell you this. A couple of weeks back, River and I were watching Animal Planet. They featured sand tiger sharks. Did you know while in the womb, the tiger shark embryos feast on their siblings? Scientists think it’s because it will allow the surviving baby shark to grow large enough that predators with leave it alone once it’s born.

  I think about Ava, Alexandra, and me as embryos once and the only reason Alexandra didn’t eat me was because one, we weren’t in the womb together, but I think Ava talked her out of it.

  You’re probably wondering what that has to do with this situation, aren’t you? Well maybe nothing. I just wanted you to know about sand tiger sharks, but also, I wish I would have eaten Alexandra when she was a baby because then maybe for once, I could have felt bigger than her.

  Now, back to Alexandra and her question. “Tiller is. He’s her dad and wanted to pay for a bigger place for her.” Even I can’t believe his willingness to participate suddenly, but I think it has something to do with what happened on the drive back from Muir Beach, but I can’t be sure. I know I see a change for the better in him.

  Tiller paying for my apartment is not what Alexandra wants to hear because in her eyes, in the eyes of our parents, I don’t think they want me to do right, and they certainly do not want Tiller providing for River. They have it in their head he’s never going to amount to anything but the guy I hang on.

  “That’s not going to last,” Alexandra snorts out and then rights herself to a standing position, straightening out her neatly pressed dress. You can look at her clothes and mine and tell the difference immediately. While she’s always proper, I’m a mess and mismatched. I’m not even wearing the same sandals. One’s brown and one’s black. Don’t judge. I was in a hurry once I found out the house sold and I needed to be out by Thursday. It’s Monday. Three days wasn’t much time.

  “And if it does?” I ask, knowing nothing he does will ever be good enough.

  It takes her a moment, but then she shrugs. “Then I guess good for you.”

  Good for you? She doesn’t mean it. I don’t think she knows how.

  Sighing, I walk away, upstairs to start packing up River’s room. I’m not going to be able to convince them otherwise, so why try to? All I need to worry about now is River.

  As I’m packing up her room, it’s a picture of her parents that draws my attention. My lashes sprinkle with tears, stinging my eyes. They seemed like the perfect pair and if you knew them, you never once would have suspected they had problems or that Ava would have cheated on him.

  Setting the photograph in the bottom of a box wrapped in bubble wrap like my fragile heart these days, I can’t help the flood of tears that come with putting them in a box. The feeling’s worse than the ones I had at their funeral when they lowered them into the ground and the regret gnawing at me knowing they were missing out on the rest of their daughter’s life.

  People make mistakes. They did and maybe the biggest one was leaving River with me, but something made them do it. That has to count for something, right?

  I don’t like kids.

  Let me be clear. I don’t like them, but the motherfuckers, those selfish time sucking shits fucking love me. What’s not to love, right?

  With that said. . . do you see the brown-haired brown-eyed toddler in front of me? The little one staring at me with wide clueless eyes holding a bottle of lube.

  This is a problem. A big one. That brings me to the bathroom as I attempt to bath her.

  Scarlet looks at me and Shade wearing goggles and attempting to get a very slippery, very naked River in the tub. “You fools can’t handle shit.” And then she realizes how shiny River is. “What’s on her?”

  I’m almost embarrassed to say, but my sell-out brother has no problems blurting out, “She found lube in Tiller’s room and thought it was lotion.”

  “Tiller!” Scarlet scolds, like I’m the child in this situation.

  I play the best poker face. Running my hand through my hair, I wink at her. “I got this.”

  I don’t have this. Not even a little.

  And I gotta say, it wasn’t my proudest moment that she found lube and decided to rub herself down with it. Oh well. She’s three. It’s not like she’s going to look back on this night and be like, that’s where my life went wrong. The night I spent the night with Tiller. I mean, let’s be honest, there are some girls out there who think that—and justifiably so—but I doubt River will remember this in a week.

  Scarlet holds up her hands. “I’m out.” And then she leaves us alone in my bathroom where we’re bathing her. I say “we” because I basically blackmailed Shade and told him if he didn’t, I would tell Scarlet how he got so drunk in Belize he let the maid jerk him off in the elevator because she had blonde curls and he honest to God thought it was Scarlet. I may have had something to do with that.

  “We should call Willa,
” I say, like I have this bright idea. “She made me watch B earlier. She owes me.”

  Shade rolls his eyes. “I’m going to bed. This is ridiculous. Tell her, I don’t even care at this point. You’re the one who didn’t use protection and got this!” He gestures to River—who’s staring at us like we’ve lost our minds.

  I scowl at my brother. “I hate you. For fuck’s sake,” I groan, throwing my head back. “I can’t believe I resorted to this for pussy.”

  River snaps her eyes my direction, like I’ve said something exciting to her. “What’s pussy?”

  Your grandfather.

  She apparently didn’t hear it the first time when I called the beast a pussy for not fighting, but now it’s like a brand-new word for her.

  Shade leans over and slaps my goddamn ear with his wet hand. “Don’t cuss around her.”

  “You literally just did. Why am I not supposed to and you can?”

  “Because I’m not a dad,” he has the nerve to point out.

  And because I haven’t suffered enough today, River takes a bowl of water—thanks to Shade for handing her a bowl—and tosses it at my face.

  While I’m covered in water, mostly my face, I remember back to when River said she peed in the tub. “Did you pee in there?”

  She grins.

  I’m 96 percent sure she did that shit on purpose, and I might have actually swallowed some of it.

  And while we’re at it, I don’t like how casual Shade’s being about this. He doesn’t seem concerned at all that I’m covered in water from head to toe, as is the bathroom floor and parts of him.

  “You did that on purpose,” I accuse, reaching for the towel next to the tub to wipe my face off.

  “No.” He laughs. “I don’t think I did.”