Yours and Mine (Freshman Forty #2)

by Christine Duval

  “So you’ll be like three hundred seventy-five miles away all year?”

  She nods. “Something like that. You can visit,” she offers. “I’m moving into my grandparents’ old house. There’s a spare bedroom.”

  “Yeah, if I didn’t have to work full time and go to school myself, maybe that would be a possibility.”

  Laurel looks up. “You’re going to school?”

  “I got recruited into a homeland security program at LIU. I’ll be working towards a master’s.”

  “In homeland security?”

  “Yup. There’s a new maritime group out here, and with all the years I’ve spent on the water, they approached me as a possible candidate for it. But I have to go to school for it. So now I’m a twenty-two-year-old freshman.”

  “Wow, Danny. I had no idea.”

  “You would have if you called me this year. We would have had a lot to talk about, apparently.” I mean to make her smile, but it comes out more sarcastic than funny.

  She lowers her eyes. “I really am sorry. One thing having Carolyn has taught me is I need to get out of my own head. There’s a whole world outside of it, apparently.” She smiles. “I’m happy for you, Danny.”

  “What’d you think? I was going to run fishing charters for Carl the rest of my life?”

  Carolyn is asleep in her arms and Laurel bends down to position her into the car seat carrier. I can’t help but stare at her ass that peeks out through the bottom of her shorts. When the baby is fastened, she stands and brushes herself off. She is hot with this new mommy body of hers.

  “Do you want anything?” I ask, heading into the kitchen so she doesn’t notice the wood in my pants.

  She shakes her head. “I’m going to go while she’s asleep. I have a feeling there’s going to be a long ferry line and it’s an easier trip if she’s not bawling.”

  She lifts the car seat.

  “When are you going back to the city?” I ask.

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “That soon?”

  She doesn’t look at me. “My dad’s wife is expecting her baby any day. I need to get back.” Then she turns around. “Want to come over later? I can make dinner. It’s the least I can do.”

  The least she can do? I can think of a thousand harsh comments to make, but I only say, “Sure.”

  “Around six?”

  Chapter 6

  After a long phone call with Joe that amounts to still no news yet, I head up to Laurel’s house, stopping to pick up a bottle of her favorite wine. At least it used to be her favorite. Who knows anymore?

  She answers the door, wearing a fitted sundress. She’s got some tan lines now around her shoulders and her cheeks are brown. She must have gotten enough of a break from Carolyn to sit out in the sun. She looks even hotter now than she did before and I can’t help the flashback in my head of her lying next to me naked on the beach last summer.

  “Hi,” she says shyly. I hand her the wine.

  “You remembered.” She smiles. “I’m not supposed to drink, but I’m trying to introduce Carolyn to formula for when I go back to school. So it should be okay if I have a little.”

  She moves out of the doorway so I can come inside and she walks barefoot into the kitchen. “Do you want some? Or I think there’s beer.”

  “I’ll just have water.” I look around, but there is no sign of the baby. “Carolyn taking a late nap?”

  “Her schedule is off. She’s been sleeping all afternoon.”

  Laurel returns with a glass of wine. “I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in ages. Don’t let me get drunk.”

  “But you’re so much fun when you’re drunk.” I wink at her.

  She knows exactly what I’m referring to. “For your information, I wasn’t drunk.”

  I try to pretend like I don’t know what she is talking about. “What do you mean?” This is a conversation I want to have.

  “When we were – together – last year. I wasn’t drunk.”

  “You were.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I didn’t need to be drunk.”

  “What does that mean – need to be drunk?”

  “It means exactly how it sounds. It wasn’t a drunk hookup, at least not for me. And considering you barely drink, it couldn’t have been for you either.”

  We lock eyes without blinking. And then her face softens. “I wanted something to change between us. With all the time we’d spent together, it seemed like the next step.”

  Her sincerity throws me off guard. “So then why did you blow me off afterwards?”

  “You think I blew you off?” She moves to stand right in front of me. She’s a tiny little thing.

  “Well, you slept with me and I never heard from you again. Except when you showed up at my job yesterday to tell me I have a kid with you.”

  Her face flushes. “I thought you blew me off.”

  “Why?”

  “You sent me a text asking me if we were good. What the hell was that all about? Are we good?” She rolls her eyes.

  “You didn’t stop by the marina to say good-bye like you said you would, so I sent you a text to make sure things were cool with us. What’s wrong with that?”

  “I did go to the marina, but Carl said you were out on the boat. He didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I came by. And then I got your text and it seemed so…I don’t know, assholey. I was pissed off.”

  “I was pissed at you too.”

  We stare at each other for an uncomfortably long time, too close.

  “Well, I guess there have been some misunderstandings, then.” Laurel walks into the kitchen.

  I tread out to the deck and lean on the rail. A misunderstanding? A year and a baby later, yeah, you could say that!

  Through the screen I hear muffled rousings over the baby monitor.

  “Can you get her?” Laurel calls from the kitchen.

  I don’t respond but walk back to the office-turned-nursery.

  Carolyn is lying on her back in the crib. She’s holding her hands in front of her, staring at them with a dreamy look in her eyes. When I come closer, she looks at me and smiles, at least I think it’s a smile.

  I reach down to pick her up. She’s soaked. “Your diaper explode?” I say, holding her away from me so I can look at her. She coos.

  I call for reinforcements. “I think she needs to be changed.”

  “There are diapers and wipes in the changing table and her suitcase is open on the floor. Grab anything,” Laurel responds. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Uh, no. I can handle it.” I guess.

  I fumble with the snaps on her pjs and slide one arm out, then the other, hoping I don’t break any bones in the process. Once her arms are out, her legs come out easier. Then I pull at the adhesive on her diaper, sliding it off.

  Her naked body makes her seem even more delicate than she looks in clothes. After I’ve wiped her dry, I blow air onto her belly. She definitely smiles this time – even laughs a little.

  Once she’s reattached to a new diaper and a dry T-shirt, I lift her up. It takes her a second to focus, but when she does, her eyes beam. She is so very perfect, the anger and resentment I was feeling before dies pretty quick.

  “She likes you,” Laurel says from the door, holding a dish towel.

  “I think she likes being dry,” I answer, readjusting her in my arms.

  “Was that your first diaper change?”

  “No. I’ve changed dozens.”

  “Liar.”

  She walks away, leaving me to spend some more time with Carolyn.

  Like clockwork, as soon as Carolyn starts to fuss, Laurel reappears with a bottle.

  “You are going to help me wean her to formula.”

  She gestures to the rocking chair. “Sit.”

  Laurel hands me the bottle. “She won’t take it from me. But if someone else tries, she might.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Just put it in her mouth
and hopefully she’ll take some. I’ll stay out of the room so she doesn’t get distracted.”

  It takes Carolyn a couple attempts at the bottle, but she eventually gets it. I rock her while she drinks, her eyes penetrating mine while she does. She finishes the whole thing.

  When I bring the empty bottle to the kitchen, Laurel stands up on her tiptoes and throws her arms around my neck. “I have been trying to get her to take a bottle for weeks. Thank you!”

  When our eyes meet, she drops her arms and takes Carolyn from me.

  “Want to eat?” she asks, her cheeks now bright pink.

  I nod.

  I’m no expert when it comes to girls, but I am good with gut reactions, and just now…that was something.

  “Food’s on the stove. Grab a bowl and help yourself,” she says, turning her back to me.

  I smile.

  She glances over her shoulder, still flushed. “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m hungry.” I reach for the bowls.

  Chapter 7

  It’s only spaghetti with tomato sauce, but it is filled with summer flavors and it hits the spot. When we’ve devoured most of it, Laurel wipes her mouth with a napkin and sits back in her chair. Her face is serious. “Okay. Assuming that you want to now, how do you see us working this out?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll be home at Thanksgiving and Christmas and you can come in to see us in the city then. Plus, if you want to come Upstate one or two weekends in the fall, you’re welcome anytime.”

  Welcome anytime? I feel the muscles in my jaw tensing. “So as long as I’m willing to travel, I can see her is what you’re saying?”

  “Well, no. I mean, I’m here now and I can come back in a couple weeks. But, yeah, once school starts again, I won’t be able to travel. Colman is too far, not to mention tough academically.”

  “Yeah, I know. You’ve told me.” I don’t know why I’m feeling pissed off again. “Working full time and going to school is no walk in the park either. Besides, you’re the one with the light class load this year. You said it yourself.”

  “It is light-ER, not light. And I’m taking care of a baby. On my own! Not to mention driving fourteen hours round trip with an infant isn’t exactly easy. So, yeah, if you want to see her, you’re going to have to get your butt in the car and drive to where I am for once!”

  She pushes her seat back from the table and brings her bowl into the kitchen.

  I follow her. “What do you mean for once?”

  “I mean I must have invited you to come to see me in the city a dozen times over the years. You always say no. As long as I was out here, you wanted to be with me. But once I left, that was it.”

  I stay silent because what she is saying is true. She did invite me to New York a bunch of times and I didn’t go. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to see her. It was because of my father. It was too risky being far away. He was constantly getting into trouble. And back then, Joe’s wife was popping out babies one a year. I couldn’t expect him to go out in the middle of the night to bail him out. And my mother was at her wit’s end. It’s why I still rarely leave Long Island. But I can’t explain that to her, or at least I don’t want to. Especially now with him in jail.

  Carolyn interrupts Laurel’s glare with a cry. She doesn’t move though. She wants a response.

  I don’t have one for her.

  She crosses her arms. “Maybe you should go.”

  I don’t want to leave with her mad. “I can help clean up,” I throw out as a peace offering.

  “No, just go.” She walks to get Carolyn. When she returns, her voice is softer. “You can come over in the morning if you want to see her before we leave.”

  “You can’t stay longer than tomorrow?”

  “I didn’t pack enough clothes and the washing machine is broken.”

  “Take them to the Laundromat.”

  She shakes her head. “I’ll come back in a few weeks.”

  I nod and squeeze Carolyn’s foot. “I can come by before work, around seven. Is that too early?”

  “You kidding? This one is up at four every day. Seven is like lunchtime.”

  Chapter 8

  As I wait for the ferry, I pull out my phone and see I forgot to charge it. It’s dead. Reaching around in the glove compartment, I find the charger and plug it in. Once it’s got some juice, I see there’s a bunch of missed calls and several texts, all from Joe. I feel pain building behind my eyes while I hold the phone to my ear.

  Joe’s voice is low and grim. “I don’t know where you are, Dan. But this is not the time to have your phone off. Dad’s in the hospital. He had a seizure. I’m picking up Mom and we’re going to Riverhead. Call me.”

  I press his number, but instead of Joe, my mother answers his phone, her voice weary. “Hi, Danny.” I can almost sense the weight of this on her face.

  “What’s going on?” I ask as the ferry captain waves my car onto the flat-bedded boat.

  “Your father had a seizure at court today, waiting to go before a judge. I can’t believe you boys didn’t tell me he had been sent to jail.”

  I swallow hard. “Can I talk to Joe?”

  “He’s just finishing getting gas. Hold on.” I hear muffling as she passes the phone off.

  “You told Mom?” I ask.

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “What happened?” I climb out of my car and walk to the port side of the sluggish ferry, allowing the warm salt breeze to hit my face as the boat moves along, unhurried. I try to slow my breathing.

  “He collapsed on the floor and began jerking uncontrollably. They brought him over to Riverhead Medical and they’re running tests.”

  “Geez!”

  “Where’ve you been?”

  I don’t answer. How on earth am I going to tell them about Carolyn? Especially now.

  Joe sighs at my silence. “Never mind. Can you come to the hospital?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  After driving back roads in twilight, the sight of the medical center and bustling Riverhead beyond makes me blink. Once parked, I navigate the emergency room with the help of a couple nurses and find my mother and brother standing outside a door, talking to a police officer. My mother squeezes my arm when I join their circle.

  “What’s happening?” I ask.

  “They did a CT scan to rule out anything more serious, but the doctor seems to think it’s his body detoxing. They’ve started him on some valium to help with the withdrawal,” Joe says.

  “Can we see him?” I ask.

  “He’s pretty out of it, but yes.” Joe pushes open the door, gesturing me to go first. We file in: me, my mother, Joe and the cop.

  My father is lying still, staring at the ceiling. Both his arms and legs are shackled to the gurney. A sheet is loosely draped over his body. He doesn’t bother to look in our direction, even when I approach the side of his bed.

  “You trying to scare everyone?” I say to break the ice.

  He still doesn’t look at me. Or any of us.

  After fifteen minutes of trying to get him to talk, all he does is stare blankly, and we finally give up.

  We shuffle back into the hall and wait for further instructions.

  “The neurologist will re-evaluate him in the morning.” A short, dark-skinned resident with a goatee, who doesn’t look much older than me, tells us in a thick accent. We’re encouraged to go home.

  I can feel my mother’s eyes focus on my face as I put the car in gear and motor out of the parking lot.

  When we’re out of Riverhead, she speaks up. “How could you boys keep this from me?”

  Talking to her about my father is never an easy conversation. Probably because she spent so many years trying to help him when he returned from Iraq, only for him to relapse again and again until she just couldn’t do it any longer. She wasted her best years on the town drunk, gave up their house on the water, and now she’s living over a cousin’s garage, basically working as a
nanny for someone who married well and popped out twins.

  “I don’t know.”

  “This affects all of us, not just your father. Not just you boys.”

  “I know that.”

  “He’s going to jail, Danny. For a long time.” She shifts her small frame and turns her gaze forward. “Maybe now he’ll finally get the help he needs.”

  I glance at her. Her dark hair is pulled up into a bun like she always wears. And although she’s still attractive at age fifty-two, stress has taken its toll on her features. The circles under her eyes have only grown more prominent the last few years, the lines on her forehead deeper.

  We drive the rest of the way in silence, passing through the small towns that make up the North Fork of Long Island until we finally reach Southold. Janie and Steve live in one of the most exclusive addresses on the entire East End, but their monster of a house is so tucked away, if you didn’t know it was here, you’d never find it.

  I pull down the tree-lined drive, past the three-car garage with my mom’s apartment up above, illuminated by one single lamp in the window, and park near the large fountain in the middle of the driveway.

  She pushes the car door open. “Come inside.” I can tell by her tone, I don’t have a choice.

  We climb the single flight to her small apartment and she flicks on the lights.

  “Will you put the kettle on?”

  She disappears into her bedroom and returns a few minutes later in sweats and slippers.

  Once she’s poured two mugs of tea and pushed one towards me, she asks, “What’s wrong, Danny?”

  I stare at my mug of chamomile.

  Her voice is intense. “I can tell there’s something wrong. It’s not just your father.”

  She’s eternally good at cutting to the chase. I guess it’s a skill well practiced when you raise two boys. Funny thing is, it feels better when I come clean with her. Always has. And this situation with Laurel and Carolyn isn’t going away any time soon.

  I sigh. “Remember that girl Laurel I used to talk about? On Shelter Island.”

  “The one from the city?”

  “Yeah, that one.”