For A Good Time, Call...

by Gadziala, Jessica

  “One of you needs to find yourself a girl,” I said, trading Shane the food for my daughter. “and make some new babies for this family to fawn over.”

  “Hey she's two now,” Hunter's dad said, nodding his head at me. “I think it's time for her to get a little brother or sister.”

  I laughed, rubbing a smudge of purple icing off her cheek. Someone had given her sweets before dinner. Again. There really was no talking to them. “Daddy?” she asked.

  “He's coming from work,” I said, putting her down and patting her bottom as she took off toward the closest of her uncles.

  I stood back and watched my new family mull around, Helen taking the food out of the to-go bags and piling it on the table. Shane and Eli were grabbing beers. Mark was talking to his father. And Ryan was tossing Becca up and down in the air above his head, making her shriek and giggle.

  It was hard to believe that just over three years ago, I was living in the city, alone. Afraid to get too close to anyone. Still completely consumed by my past. Cutting into my skin. Drinking myself silly every night. And that was okay. At the time, that seemed like the best I could get. And, coming from what I came from, it was pretty damn good.

  Sometimes it's crazy how much can change when just one thing changes.

  Hunter. Hunter came into my life and changed everything.

  As if I had called him, he came in through the door, moving beside me and wrapping an arm around my waist. We stood there silently a long time, watching everyone.

  Just over three years ago, Hunter was running like hell away from these people. And yet here we were: all together. One big, happy, crazy, dysfunctional family of loan sharks, and phone sex operators, and tattoo artists.

  “Daddy!” Becca yelled, trying to wiggle down out of Ryan's arms and he fumbled to catch her as she started to fall. That was my daughter, completely unconcerned with danger and consequences.

  Next to me, Hunter stooped down and grabbed her, settling her on his hip and leaning back into me.

  “Funny how things change, isn't it?” I asked him, laying my head on his shoulder.

  Who would have thought that fucked up little Fiona Meyers would have a family and a husband and a perfect little baby? All those years that I had believed in my uselessness, my brokenness... all those years I punished myself for things that had been out of my control. All those years of pain and misery so deep I could fucking swim in it. All of that had somehow led me to this.

  I still had my phone sex business. But I wasn't the one taking calls anymore. No, I had an office in town with little cubicles and I employed other women who needed a leg up in life. I trained them. I offered them the tricks of the trade. I paid them well. I helped them up on my feet because it would have been nice to have had that help when I was struggling on the streets. When I had no where to turn. Maybe it wasn't the kind of community service the bible and the church suggests we should do to help our neighbors, but it was doing good. It was giving back for all the amazing things I had gotten out of my life.

  Hunter worked in his tattoo shop, kept busy with all the biker traffic and his own brothers as well as a fair clientele of his own. He was happy there, his little tattoo gun buzzing in his hands. He did one weekend a month of free tattoos to cover scars. It was a tribute to me and the tattoo he had given me to hide the “wicked” I had been living with for fourteen years. We had spent endless hours looking at images online, trying to find the right cover up. Eventually we had decided on a floral and vine design that wrapped around my body, dipping low down toward my groan then up toward my hipbones and around my lower back. Like panties. Like super fancy underwear.

  I thought it had a fun sort of irony.

  “I wanna see Pop Pop,” Becca grumbled and Hunter put her down on the ground.

  I watched her barrel away. Our little energizer bunny. Always on the run.

  “Hey, Fourteen,” I said, wrapping my arms around him.

  “Yeah, Sixteen?” he said, burying his face in the hair at my neck. We were good at this. We were so good at being in love it made me sick. Even after years. Even after a baby that sucked all of our energy. Even bone deep exhausted, we loved so deeply it was almost painful.

  “You know that spare room of ours?” I started, smiling because he couldn't see me.

  “Yeah?”

  “I think it's time to get some new furniture for it.”

  “Okay...” he said, sounding confused.

  “Yeah,” I said, pulling back slightly so I could look in his face. “You have about... eight more months to build a nice nursery set.”

  He stared at me uncomprehending for a moment before breaking into a huge, dopey smile. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I smiled back. I had known the next morning. Like I had with Becca. The morning after brought on a wave of nausea that could only be explained by one medical condition. I waited to tell him, just to make sure. Just in case. But five weeks in, there was no denying it. I was gonna be a big fat pregnant lady again.

  Hunter leaned forward and kissed me until my toes tingled, then squeezed me tight, lifting me up off my feet. “That's great, Fee. You're amazing.”

  “Daddy is kissing Mommy,” Becca declared, her baby voice high pitched and everyone turned to look.

  “Damn straight,” Charlie nodded, planting a kiss on Helen's cheek.

  “Pop Pop said damn,” Becca yelled and everyone laughed.

  It really was too much to ask in this family to have a kid that didn't repeat cuss words. If I could keep the word 'fuck' out of her mouth until she was at least fourteen, it would be a miracle.

  “I think Mommy and Daddy have something they want to tell all of us,” Helen announced, looking at me with knowing eyes. The woman was downright freaky with how she knew things sometimes. Maybe it was just because she herself had been pregnant five times. Maybe she picked up on how green I looked some mornings. On how my nose spread ever so slightly. She was the kind of person who would pick up on small things like that.

  “Oh yeah?” Charlie asked, smiling. “Big news?”

  I looked at Hunter and he nudged me. “You tell them,” he whispered.

  “I'm pregnant,” I said loudly.

  There was a short silence before the yelling began, making Becca jump and then clap at the commotion, not knowing what it was about, but excited nonetheless.

  “See?” Charlie asked, slapping Ryan hard enough on the back of the neck to make him stumble two steps forward. “Grand babies,” he yelled. He walked over to us, the scariest, most intimidating man in five states wide, with a huge happy grin on his face as he pulled me out of his son's arms and enveloped me in a bear hug, spinning me around.

  “Babe,” Helen called, stepping closer and putting a hand on his shoulder. “She's going to puke all over you if you keep doing that.”

  “Nonsense,” he declared, but set me on my feet. “You had four boys and were never sick one time. Oh,” he said, smiling fondly at Becca. “maybe that means we are getting another little girl.”

  I silently agreed with him. I thought it was another girl. But, I mean, you can never really know. Not for a couple more months anyway.

  “My daughters are never going to be able to date, are they?” I asked, looking around at all the men they would have in their lives to love and protect them and feeling so incredibly grateful my heart hurt. My daughters would have so much more than I did. They would never grow up thinking men were raging rivers. They would never have to worry about keeping their heads above water.

  “Hell no,” Shane said, scrunching up his face in disgust. “No one would ever be worthy.”

  “That's probably true,” Hunter agreed, walking up behind me and putting his hands on my belly.

  This was right. This was the life my mother had wanted for me. A good man. Actually, seven good men around me. The touch of someone who loved me. Rare and beautiful and godly. And my perfect daughter, my perfect future children. A chance to break
the cycle. A chance for happiness.

  “Love you, Fee,” Hunter said against my ear.

  “I love you too,” I said, putting my hands on top of his. “Even though you stole my cactus.” And he laughed, squeezing me tighter at our little inside joke.

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