The Best Thing

by Zapata, Mariana

  “All right.” I was doing this for Mo. I was doing this for Mo.

  After we were all buckled in, I took my phone off airplane mode and found three voice mails from Grandpa Gus. Turning on the engine, I made sure the car’s Bluetooth didn’t pick it up and blast him over the speaker, and then called him back. He picked up immediately.

  “Where are you?” he answered before I could make a sarcastic comment about being a stalker.

  “We just got done at the lab….” I trailed off, hoping he wasn’t going to go on another rant about Jonah.

  Grandpa mumbled something under his breath before asking in a stilted voice, “Can you take your time coming back?”

  I frowned down at the steering wheel. Take my time going back to the gym? “Why?”

  There was another pause, then, “Because.”

  Because? Uh. “No promises?” I offered him as my brain took his tone and his question and ran with it. What the fuck was going on that he didn’t want me to see?

  “Okay,” he replied before hanging up again.

  What the hell was that about? Of course now I was going to drop by. He couldn’t say something like that and expect my red flags not to go up. What the hell was happening? I wondered as I put the car into reverse and said, “I have to run by the gym for a second. We can eat afterward, and I’ll drive you back to your hotel then.” Or I’d call him an Uber. Whatever. We could see what happened. If he got on my nerves, he could walk.

  “Sure,” he agreed as I set the car into drive.

  I wondered what the hell was going on with Grandpa Gus, and I kept on wondering as I drove us out of the parking lot with a quiet Jonah and a quietly babbling Mo in the car talking to her imaginary friend. She was such a talker; I loved it.

  “Everything all right?” he asked after a little while.

  It wasn’t until I started trying to extend my fingers from around the steering wheel that I realized I was gripping on to it really tight. “My grandfather just asked me not to stop by the gym, and I don’t know why,” I explained, unable to hide the instinct that said something was wrong.

  He “hmmed” his response, at least initially. “He’s a bit aggro I’m with you. Maybe that’s it?”

  “Aggro? Aggravated?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod.

  So I shook mine right back, focusing on the road. “I mean, yeah, but that’s not it. He’s petty, but he would have said that if that were the case.”

  He “hmmed” again before, “So you manage the gym now?”

  “Yes.”

  “You were only working there part of the time before,” he stated for some reason, like he wanted me to know he’d listened… at least sometimes.

  I pressed my lips together for a second. “Yes.”

  “When did you start?”

  “Six weeks after I had Mo.” I thought about leaving it at that but changed my mind. “Daycare facilities here are really expensive. It was Grandpa Gus’s idea that I take over managing it, and that he would stay home with her instead. It made the most sense.” I had always known it was inevitable. I was pretty sure I had told him that too at some point.

  But back then I had thought it was going to be years before the day came.

  I flexed my fingers around the steering wheel and kept explaining so that way I wouldn’t have to bring this up later. “The good thing is, those two love and adore each other. I told you, he takes her to daycare once or twice a week in the morning for a few hours, so that she can get used to being around other kids. Sometimes, my best friend’s father-in-law watches her if Grandpa has something to do. She comes to see me and hang out in the office too pretty often.”

  He looked at me, but I didn’t return his gaze.

  “I’ll write it down for you, so you know where she’s at all the time. I know you aren’t… working while you’re here.” He was on vacation. On holiday. On his off-season, I reminded myself again. Not permanent. “I’m sure I can talk Grandpa into splitting babysitting duties with you so you can take advantage of your time while you’re here, if you want.” I had no idea what the fuck he was doing during the day, and I wasn’t going to ask because it wasn’t my business, and I didn’t care. “But he might end up making you pay a rental fee or something for him to give up Mo,” I told him, with a snicker even though I didn’t mean to.

  “A rental fee?” he asked with a familiar-sounding soft laugh that irritated me. “It wouldn’t be babysitting though, would it? More like… parenting, no?”

  I swung my head to look at him again. Not babysitting. Parenting.

  Asshole.

  The small smile he sent me when he caught me looking at him had me wondering for a split second if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing; saying all the right things that I wanted to hear to trust him again. Hadn’t he said that? That he wanted to regain my trust?

  Fucker.

  “Yeah,” I replied after a second, facing forward again. “It’s not babysitting if she’s yours. And she is. And luckily Grandpa Gus thinks Mo is his. Peter thinks the same. She’s our community baby.”

  Jonah’s damn smile grew wider, I just knew it. “That’s awesome. No such thing as too much love.”

  Ugh.

  “I’d like to spend as much time with her as I can while I’m here.”

  While he was here.

  “There’s so much I don’t know about babies.” His hand went up to slide over the top of his head, back and forth, from what I could see. “If you could put up with me for a while, I would appreciate it if you taught me everything I’ve missed.” He paused, and I could sense him burning a fucking hole into my face. “I’ve been coached all my life, you know, and I bet you’re good at teaching too.”

  I flexed my hands around the steering wheel. Stand strong. I could survive this man and his eternally cheerful attitude and his politeness and his voice and all his smiles. I could.

  And that’s why I didn’t say shit.

  And Mr. Understanding and Patient didn’t let my negative ass stop his chatter.

  “Reckon your grandfather could show me too if he ever stops hating me,” Jonah finished brightly.

  My nose betrayed me with a snort. “Yeah, even if he didn’t hate you, you wouldn’t want him to show you how to do anything, trust me.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  I snorted again even though I didn’t want to. “The worst. When I was a kid, he tried to….” What the fuck was I doing? I shut up.

  Out of the corner of my eye I could see him shift that big body in his seat as much as he could in my small SUV. “Lenny, you can tell me anything you want, you know.”

  How could I tell him that I didn’t want to? Well, easily, that’s how, but…

  Through the rearview mirror, I glanced at the car seat.

  That was the relationship that really mattered, even if it hurt me a little to settle for it. She was more important than me and my feelings.

  “Anyway, you’re right. It’s not that hard taking care of her. But it is scary. I still am, scared I mean, but not about the same things. Like not holding her head and neck correctly or holding her too tight or not feeding her enough. But I’ll show you what I know. If you want to learn.”

  The Asshole didn’t waste a second. “I want to.”

  I squeezed the steering wheel again, trying to find the right words. “Okay. You’d just have to… put up with me until you’re comfortable enough to be around her by yourself.”

  He made a soft sound with his nose. “That wouldn’t exactly be a hardship, would it?” he replied. “Cheers for offering, Len. I accept.”

  I should probably call Noah back so he could piss me off and remind me of what a douchebag was. That would be exactly what I would need to keep this meh-train going with Jonah. I was the conductor, and I wasn’t ready to retire.

  I cast another glance at that handsome-as-hell face beside me and kept my damn mouth closed.

  That big body shifted in the seat again, legs an
d shoulders moving one way and then the other. Then he went for it. “Are you seeing anyone?” he asked like he wanted to know what fucking time it was.

  I didn’t see how that was any of his business but… fine. I guess it kind of was. I’d want to make sure, if he was in a relationship, that the woman wasn’t some kind of psycho. And if my chest felt a little weird at the idea of him being in a relationship with someone, I wasn’t going to linger on it. I hadn’t looked at his Picturegram account in forever, and I wasn’t about to start now. Maybe there was someone. Maybe there wasn’t.

  I wondered then if he’d taken down the two pictures of us he’d put up there so long ago. One had been of us at Versailles, the first day we’d met. It had surprised the hell out of me when he’d shown me he’d posted it, hours after meeting. He’d started following me immediately after.

  The second picture had been of us at Sacré-Coeur with the city sprawled out behind us on a beautiful day. I had really liked that picture. That one had been taken a month before his injury.

  “No,” I answered him, ignoring the tingle in my stomach that felt an awful lot like disgust. “Are you?”

  The second it took him to answer felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

  “No, there’s no one,” he replied slowly. There was another pause. “There hasn’t been.”

  Hasn’t been? Since when? Last week? Last month? Six months ago?

  It was none of my fucking business. I wasn’t going to ask, and I wasn’t going to look to find out either.

  I kept my eyes forward as I said, “Okay.” I tried to make the feeling that had moved from my stomach to my chest go away, but it didn’t want to go anywhere. It was going to happen. The dating. I was thirty-one. He was thirty. Now or never. “We should probably talk about that then while we’re on the topic, so we know what to do if—when—the situation rises. You know, when I decide to start dating again—“ His head swiveled toward me, but I didn’t see what his expression was because I didn’t look at him. “—or when you do, so that way we’re on the same page. I think it might be best to wait to introduce new people into Mo’s life until we’re sure that they’re going to be around.”

  His “all right” took a moment or ten longer than I would have expected. And it sounded a lot rougher than it needed to as well. It came out hesitantly, if I wasn’t imagining it.

  My hand shot out before I could think twice about it. “You sure? Deal?”

  That big hand that was a lot more calloused than I remembered, settled over mine before I had a chance to take it back, his fingers sliding over my own, giving them and my palm a warm squeeze that lingered longer than necessary.

  Well, I’d been doing that for a low-five, but… okay. That seemed even more permanent. All right.

  I wouldn’t be doing that again anytime soon.

  I swallowed and pulled my hand away, returning it to the steering wheel.

  We had a whole lot more to settle, but suddenly, I really didn’t feel like asking any more of the hundred questions we had to discuss. Not when we were so close to Maio House, and I was still unsure what the hell my gramps’s weird call had been all about. Luckily, in no time at all, I was steering the car into one of the three reserved spots—one for Peter, Grandpa Gus, and myself.

  As I was putting the car into park, I asked, “Do you want to come inside?” Then immediately fucking regretted it.

  Shit. I imagined the looks the assholes inside were going to be giving if and when he came in with Mo and me. As soon as I thought that, I wanted to punch myself.

  What the hell was I doing? Worrying about what they would think or say? They could all suck it. I wasn’t hiding anything.

  “It might be a while,” I let him know, irritated with myself for worrying over what other people would think or say if I walked in with him.

  He was Mo’s dad.

  And he might be a dipshit, but it wasn’t like anyone else knew that.

  Fuck it. They could think whatever they wanted to think. It was more than likely going to be true anyway.

  Oblivious, Jonah nodded as he unbuckled his seat belt, reaching for the door with his other hand.

  I got Mo out, Jonah grabbing the diaper backpack in the process. But it was just as I was standing straight again that I realized what was happening. I held Mo out to him and raised my eyebrows. “Take her. The more you hold her, the more comfortable you’ll feel with her.”

  His “all right” sounded pretty dubious to me, but I could appreciate him not trying to get out of it. I guessed.

  He kept the diaper bag over his shoulder as he pulled her in real close to his chest, eyes widening the slightest. “We’re going to get along just fine, aren’t we, Mo?” Jonah asked as he gazed down at the girl with his same eyes.

  Mo answered by grabbing his nose and pinching it with a quick burst of animated commentary.

  He grinned right back at her.

  All right. Enough of that. I was glad I wasn’t the jealous type.

  I turned around and headed toward the entrance to the training facility, Jonah and Mo trailing behind me. I punched in the code then opened the door. I held it wide and watched the corner of his lips arch upward as he headed into the building first, stopping just inside.

  He really was a big son of a bitch, I thought as he brushed by me.

  Gesturing him toward the office like he didn’t know where it was, I stopped almost immediately at the sight of Grandpa Gus, a woman, and Peter standing right outside the office door. But it was Grandpa’s posture that had me pausing. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and the look on his face was one I hadn’t seen, ever. Not even when he mean-mugged Jonah the other day during breakfast.

  But even Peter, who was pretty damn easygoing, looked tense.

  Taking in the woman, who had to be somewhere around my height, she had to easily be in her sixties or early seventies. Slim without looking exactly frail. Her hair was all white and was cut in a chin-length bob. She had on a dressy blouse and white pants.

  She was… elegant.

  And I had no clue who the hell she was, but I already knew I wasn’t going to like her because of Grandpa Gus and Peter’s body language.

  If I had thought I was imagining that something was going on, it would have been confirmed when Grandpa Gus spotted me and winced.

  This was the man who had given me the puberty talk complete with visuals and a book. Who had bought me pads and tampons without flinching dozens of times. Who had shaved his own calf to teach me how to shave my legs. This was the same man who had given me a very serious sex talk before blatantly asking if I needed him to take me to get on birth control, even though I’d never said anything that would give him the impression I was interested in boys. This was the same man who had gestured toward my boobs a hundred times while helping me train and growled, “Do something with them!” when they were halfway popping out of my sports bras back before I’d gotten smart and started doubling up on them.

  This was the same man who had left a box of condoms on my bed eight weeks after I’d had Mo.

  Grandpa Gus and I didn’t do awkward. We never had. So the fact that he was sucking in a breath, making a face that said he was dreading whatever was about to happen…

  I already didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all.

  And I knew somehow that it wasn’t because of the man with me.

  And I got that reconfirmation to listen to my gut instinct not even two minutes later.

  “Elena,” Grandpa Gus greeted me tensely, making that dread grow even bigger.

  This person here wasn’t a friend. She wasn’t someone to be trusted. That’s what that name meant.

  I braced myself, trying to rack my brain for whatever the hell this lady could mean. Who was she? “Grandpa,” I said as I stopped beside him, giving him a kiss on the cheek and then going up to my toes to give Peter one too, right as Jonah stood beside me. Really, he shouldn’t be surprised I’d shown up. He’d basically asked for it by being so weird
and cryptic. He knew me better than that.

  “Peter, Mr. DeMaio,” Jonah said, extending a hand toward Peter first, shaking it, and then doing the same toward my grandpa.

  Honest to God, even I was impressed right then that he’d taken the initiative to be the bigger person and try shaking his hand again. I was going to have to think about that later.

  Something was off because Grandpa Gus decided this woman was the greater threat because he shook Jonah’s hand after a moment of hesitation, when I damn well knew that if things were normal, he would have just stared at it until things got uncomfortable.

  That was how we rolled.

  Usually.

  I turned my attention to the woman standing there, holding a pale pink leather purse in her hand. A hand that had a huge diamond ring on it. And something weird happened when I took in her face. It looked familiar…. I couldn’t think about when I had possibly seen it before, but it was really, really familiar looking.

  “Hello,” the woman said in a careful, lightly accented Texan drawl. A brief smile flashed across a very nice face that had taken the years and rolled with them. She really was beautiful in a fancy kind of way.

  I was narrowing my eyes as Grandpa Gus’s hand moved in my peripheral vision as he gestured to the woman. “Elena,” he said again, reminding me that I could go another thirty years before he ever called me by my name again. A name he had passed down to me from his own mom, who I had never met.

  I waited, glancing at Jonah who was looking totally calm… because he didn’t know the weird shit Grandpa was saying and doing that was setting off my own inner alarm.

  “This is Rafaela,” Grandpa Gus said in a tight, unwelcoming voice.

  Was he… uncomfortable?

  I didn’t smile or extend my hand. I did frown though and stare at him, trying to pick up more hints.

  Grandpa stared, something about his face… apologetic? “This is….”

  Since when the hell did this man struggle for words? I glanced at Peter and saw even more how uncomfortable he must have felt right then. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen this man feeling weird. Defensiveness rose up inside of me.

  The woman coughed discreetly, looking awkward too. Then she thrust out her hand toward me and said, “I’m your grandmother, Elena.”