by Malcom, Anne
But I did fantasize about one day being able to wake up early, drive to the bakery, get coffee and a plethora of baked goods, sit outside and just enjoy them.
That was not in my budget or my schedule.
But here was Lance, at seven in the morning, bringing the good donuts. My eyes moved to the tray of four coffees.
I opened my mouth, to do what, I wasn’t sure, maybe propose marriage, but he beat me to it.
“The door was unlocked,” he said, voice flat. Something moved in his eyes, though. I knew that because despite the fact I was staring at the bakery box with something akin to love and longing, his voice was a magnet, pulling all of my attention.
“What?” I replied.
“The door. When I left, figured you’d hear, you’d lock it behind me... considerin’.” He paused, his fists stayed clenched and they seemed to tighten as if he were trying to control something. Everything else about him stayed even. “Yet I come back, you in the fuckin’ shower, kid still asleep and the door is fucking unlocked.”
I blinked, digesting his words. Despite being distracted by the donuts, his gaze and the fact we were having this conversation while I was standing in front of him wearing only a towel, I got where he was coming from.
He didn’t need to spell out his meaning. The accusation. It was threaded through his words. Anyone could enter the house while I was in the shower, while Nathan was vulnerable.
Not that this was a neighborhood was one where strangers waltzed into other people’s houses at seven in the morning with nefarious intentions, but that wasn’t the point.
And we were more at risk than most people.
“Captain! You stayed over!” Nathan yelled, bounding into the room with the energy that he had naturally without any kind of stimulant, just youth. Unlike me he noticed the box on the coffee table immediately. “And you brought donuts from the good place. Mom said we can only go there on special occasions, is this a special occasion?”
Despite everything happening right now, the only thing important in this second was the kid in the Avengers PJs, grinning at a box of donuts, waking up in his own home.
“Yes,” I said, cupping his face. “It’s a very special occasion.”
He didn’t blink at my attire, considering he’d seen me walking around the house in only a towel while I waited for our laundry to dry multiple times. He always had fresh clothes, but I didn’t have a huge selection and put off washing my own.
“Can I eat them right now, Mom?” he asked, eyes wide and hopeful.
I grinned. “You will first have to thank Mr. Lance, he was the one who got them.”
Nathan turned, and that meant I had to let go of him. “Captain, you got donuts? But I thought you only ate spinach and lentils?”
“For dinner,” he said. “For breakfast, I eat donuts.”
My heart melted at my feet. It didn’t matter what he was like to me, the fact this man was good with my son was all that mattered.
Nathan’s beam lit up the room and he dove right into the donuts. My eyes widened at the sheer volume and variety.
My mouth watered as I stared at them too.
I moved my eyes to the coffee, arguably just as important as the sugar. “I know that Nathan is smart for his age, but I don’t have him caffeinated yet,” I said in reference to the multiple coffee cups. “Or are we expecting visitors? I guess that explains the volume of donuts that this kid couldn’t get through without lapsing into a coma,” I said, nodding to the boy with chocolate all over his face.
“One, buddy,” I told him as he reached in for another with a half-eaten one still in his hand.
“Didn’t know how you took your coffee,” Lance said. “Know you’re a single mom with a full-time job, so know you drink coffee. There’s one with milk, one without, and one with that almond milk crap that all woman seem to drink.”
I didn’t say anything, I just stared. He couldn’t be real.
“You should get dressed so you can eat,” Lance continued.
“Mommy doesn’t need to get dressed, this is her eating outfit,” Nathan contributed with a mouth full of donut.
I closed my eyes.
“Mommy does need to get dressed,” Lance answered.
My eyes snapped open. Was I imagining the heat in his voice. Upon inspection, his gaze hadn’t changed.
It was lack of caffeine, sleep and the trauma of the past days. I was hallucinating. Or whatever the hearing version of hallucinating was.
In a smooth move—that I was certain wasn’t smooth-like at all—I leaned forward, snagged a pair of panties and rushed from the room to get dressed.
And to have a lobotomy.
* * *
“Do you have a pee pee?” Nathan asked Lance, looking from his bike to him.
I gaped at my son.
He did not just say that.
He was a five-year-old. Of course he frickin’ said that. I wanted to be angry at the little human with no filter, but the twenty-four hours without him was too fresh, therefore he was going to get away with a lot for today and the near future.
Like eating two donuts for breakfast when he was never allowed that much sugar in such a condensed amount of time, definitely not before school. I penciled in a call with his teacher about two hours from now when he tried to lasso a squirrel or something at recess.
“Nathan,” I hissed. “You cannot just go asking questions like that.”
He looked to me, eyes wide, innocent and too beautiful for their own good. He was going to break some hearts, first of all, my own. “Why not?”
“Because it’s rude, and when you’re older, grounds for a sexual harassment suit,” I snapped, my voice not having much of a bite to it.
He folded his arms. “I don’t want to wear a suit,” he decided. “Captain doesn’t wear one and he’s still a superhero. Even if he doesn’t have a pee pee,” he added, looking back to the bike.
Someone save me. What did I do here? Especially with Lance just standing there, not saying a frickin’ thing, not walking away to save me any further embarrassment, seemingly not worried about the kid in front of him talking about his junk.
“He has a pee pee,” I whispered at him, though even my yelled whisper was loud enough for Lance to hear.
Nathan’s gaze moved to me. “You told me that boy’s pee pees fall off when they ride motorcycles. Why does Captain still have his?”
Were we seriously talking about Lance’s dick, right in front of him, at seven-thirty in the morning? Yes, yes we were.
I took a long breath, wishing that Lance hadn’t had to be such a hot guy with his motorcycle and muscles and his donuts. “Because he’s a man, not a boy. And we are no longer having this conversation, you are getting your butt in that seat and possibly into some kind of therapy,” I replied, really hoping this was the end of it.
I didn’t dare look at Lance.
“But Mom—”
“In the car, this instant,” I said through clenched teeth, the universal, ‘mom is about to lose her shit’ tone.
Nathan scowled but did as he was asked because he was the best kid in the world. Ah, I loved that little fucker, even when he made me talk about the private parts of the man I was a little bit obsessed with and the man was completely and utterly indifferent to me.
I wanted to scuttle to the car and escape having to clean up my kid’s mess, but I was an adult, and I had to some time, in the immediate future, stop staring at Nathan getting himself into the car and look at those eyes that had seen me pretty much only at my worst. First, when I’d been sweaty and out of my mind at the offices. Then, when I was trying to hold on to my emotions getting my son back.
Then, running on empty handing him Barney sheets and word vomiting all over the place. This morning, staring at his stomach and then standing in the living room in my towel and unable to speak like a human. Now wasn’t much better, the lack of having to make breakfast or coffee gave me extra time, but I needed that extra time in order to cover
my angry black eye. And even my most practiced hand wasn’t great, because I’d had to scrape at my concealer. I didn’t usually wear makeup, and my stash was pretty much nonexistent. I hadn’t needed to be constantly stocked up in the heavy-duty stuff as I had when I was still living with Robert.
He liked me with more makeup, to cover my freckles, my imperfections, the bruises he gave me.
I guess it was my rebellion to go fresh-faced now, well, that and I couldn’t afford luxuries like makeup. I survived off skincare samples, cheap cleansers, and really fancy creams that Karen and Eliza got me for my birthday.
So the concealer only kind of worked at hiding the huge bruise on my eye, it was definitely noticeable when you looked up close, and the dark circles under my eyes didn’t fare much better. Though I did dab some almost expired red lipstick underneath them to color correct.
I put on a swipe of mascara, telling myself it wasn’t for the man in my living room I could hear Nathan chattering away to as I got ready.
I only had time to half blow dry my hair, so I quickly braided it and put on my work uniform. I thanked Esther and Logan—the owners of the diner, and mine and Nathan’s family—daily for not having some ugly, polyester, pastel uniform that was unflattering and embarrassing.
It was just simple black pants, high-waisted, good quality, and did things to make my legs look long and my butt look good. Despite most of my curves disappearing, my butt stayed large enough to fill out the pants. The top was a fitted tee with a small logo on the breast. I could get away with wearing it to and from work, even to the grocery store. Heck, it was nicer than most of my clothes.
Today, I knew shitty concealer and black pants that made my ass look good would not save me.
I did not want to make eye contact with Lance right now.
But my life was just a series of doing things I didn’t want to do. So I held my breath and did it anyway.
His expression was exactly the same as it had been when I’d walked into the living room after dressing and trying to give my bruised and exhausted self a pep talk in the mirror. Well, I wasn’t as exhausted as I thought I would be considering that the coffee from Alice’s was even better than my shitty coffee machine stuff. Of course it was. It was coffee for people that had enough disposable income to grab it on their way to work without a thought.
I would be one of those people.
One day.
For now, I’d tried to make my coffee last for as long as possible, and had still been holding onto it when I walked into the living room, dressed, purse on my shoulder ready to go.
I’d already braced for the impact of Lance in my living room, but his presence still hit me, even if he barely glanced at me.
I pretended that didn’t bother me and I focused on my kid, preparing myself for a face full of chocolate icing, a stained t-shirt, sticky fingers. I was pleasantly surprised seeing only the tiniest smudge on his forehead—who knows how it got that far away from his mouth—and nothing on his shirt, or hands, by the looks of it. He even had his backpack on his back, which I, of course, had to check before he left the house. He once somehow fit our entire toaster in it so he could make toast for all his friends.
“Alright, I’m ready to go, have you got everything you need in there, bud?” I asked Nathan, sipping the last of my coffee with a broken heart.
Nathan nodded.
“No toasters?” I probed.
He shook his head looking very serious and sincere, but you could never tell, five-year-olds were the best at deception. Well, about toasters in backpacks at least, everything else he sucked at lying about. A habit I was going to make sure followed him into adulthood.
After checking his backpack and finding the remote control for the TV in there, I was happy to see that he had everything else.
I straightened. “Right, we’re going.”
Lance chose this moment to stand and give me his full attention, something I could not avoid even if I wanted to—and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to or not.
“You haven’t eaten,” he said.
I glanced down at the box of donuts, realizing that I hadn’t managed to get one. Who was I? I definitely didn’t think I’d be the person who forgets about a delicious stack of refined sugar and beautiful carbs sitting on my coffee table, but motherhood does that to you.
I also realized how incredibly rude it was of me to not eat one when Lance had got up early, been accosted by me, driven across town, got all the donuts and all the coffee and I didn’t even say thank you.
I snatched one from the pile. “I didn’t even thank you for these,” I said, holding it up and staring at the glaze glistening off it like diamonds. This was totally better than diamonds. “Just tell me how much I owe you, please,” I continued, taking a bite, even though I couldn’t really afford to pay Lance for all the donuts and coffee.
I wasn’t a charity case either.
When I got the full flavor explosion in my mouth, I realized that I would pay whatever he wanted for these things. Shit, I’d almost give away Nathan, if I wasn’t so attached to him and the mere thought of him being out of my sight again was enough for me to make this beautiful donut turn to ash in my mouth.
I swallowed roughly.
Lance was glaring at me.
“You’re not payin’ for shit,” he said by reply, obviously not classing shit as a curse word inappropriate to say in front of Nathan.
I braced for him to echo the word, but he didn’t. I utilized that silence. “Right, we need to go, like now.” I closed the box and handed it to Lance. “Do you want to take this to work and feed everyone there? Change their lives while you’re at it, because those are some damn good donuts.” I smiled at him, even though he was staring down at the box like I was offering him a severed head.
No, wait, I doubted a severed head would make him even blink.
“Didn’t buy them for anyone else. They’re for you.” He looked to Nathan. “Both of you. And we’re not leaving this house until you finish that one, and eat another.”
I gaped at him. Surely I couldn’t have heard him right.
But my five-year-old helped.
“Mom! There’s enough there to even have them for breakfast tomorrow. And they’re all for us,” Nathan shouted.
I focused on Lance. And the fact he just ordered me to eat something. “I don’t need more than one,” I said, a slight bite to my voice, my spine straightening. The command reminded me of the way that Robert used to control what I ate. But then again, he was more about limiting my food intake, not buying me donuts and all but shoving them down my throat.
Lance’s eyes went up and down my body, there was nothing sexual about the look. No, it was assessing something, and when his gaze returned to mine, it seemed he found me lacking. “You need more than one,” he said. And apparently, his word was law, he splayed his legs and folded his arms.
I gritted my teeth. “Nathan will be late for school.”
“I don’t mind being late,” he piped in. “Especially if you get to eat donuts, Mom. You never eat enough of them, and they’re really good.”
Bless his soul.
The little traitor.
I gripped the box, hating that I actually really wanted another one, especially the one that looked like it was peanut butter custard. Peanut butter was my ultimate weakness.
And my son.
And it turned out, the steely glare from a stranger.
I sighed, shoving the rest of the donut in my mouth, snatching the peanut butter one from the box and stomping into the kitchen to place the box on the counter.
It was in there that I finished the two donuts, to calm myself down and so Lance didn’t see the fact I was almost as messy as my kid when it came to eating donuts.
I also did not want to admit how good they were and how much my stomach and soul needed them.
After cleaning myself up, I walked into the living room and studiously avoided Lance’s eyes, focusing on Nathan and the charade that was leavi
ng the house.
But now, Nathan was not able to be used as a distraction.
“I’m sorry about the... pee pee comment,” I said, face flaming. “It was just something I told him about motorcycles because I don’t want him to be anywhere near one, so I thought that it might be a good motivation for him to stay off it,” I blurted. “Not that there’s anything wrong with motorcycles,” I said quickly. “It suits you.”
Lance didn’t say anything.
I decided I needed to stop talking about motorcycles and dicks.
“I’m not sure how this works,” I said, moving to the more practical version of having him in the broad daylight, when panic wasn’t running through my bloodstream. “The whole security thing,” I expanded.
In broad daylight, with Nathan back and talking about pee pees, the need for it seemed a little obsessive. I didn’t need to reach far back into my memories to realize that any extra protection I could get for Nathan I would take.
“I’ll take him to school, have a discussion with his teachers, of course, and then I’ve got work. I do the breakfast rush, and then the afternoon, usually I pick up Nathan and he comes to hang out with me at the diner. Or my friend Karen takes him.” I glanced over to the house next door. I’d already fielded countless texts from both women as they noticed that I was absent, we were supposed to have dinner. I knew they were worried, and I was selfishly happy that neither of them were morning people so I didn’t have to face them just yet.
I also didn’t think I could have Nathan away from me for that long, even though I knew that both of those women would protect him with their lives. They’d come to love him like he was blood over the past three years we’d been neighbors. I also had a sneaking suspicion that they now had enough money to move to a much nicer neighborhood but stayed mostly because of Nathan and me. Also because Karen hated packing.
I was selfishly happy about that too.
No matter how much I loved and trusted the both of them, I couldn’t have Nathan away from me. I had been trying to stave off anxiety all morning, Lance and donuts were a good distraction, but it was going to be hard as all hell to drive away from that school.
