Never Can Tell

by C. M. Stunich

  “No,” he says as he turns the volume up on the monitor and sets it on the shelf behind my head, between an empty flower pot and a glass bottle filled with white pebbles. “But I know something that is.”

  Ty's hand slides up my bare thigh and under the thin, white cotton of my shirt, brushing across the fabric of my panties. Immediately, my body is no longer under my control, flaring with raging heat. My cig drops from my mouth and bounces off the arm of the chair and into the dew covered grass. My hands slide up and around Ty's neck as he pushes aside my underwear and teases my opening. I hate to fucking admit it, but I am wet. Soaked. Desperate for it. Besides, our neighbors should be used to this by now.

  Ty sticks his cig into the dirt of the empty pot and drops his mouth to mine, eating me up with the taste of clover and tobacco swirling between our tongues. Ty fucks me with his fingers with one hand and pushes down his sweats with the other. Thank God, the man has enough sense not to wear any underwear. With a infant baby in the house now, it's all about speed.

  McCabe teases me until I'm slick and ready, proving that he really isn't as big of a bad ass as he pretends to be. He wants to make sure I'm okay, that I can take him, that it won't hurt. And I don't think I'll ever forget that this is the same guy who kept repeating the doctor's orders: no sex for four to six weeks. We barely outlasted the first three and a half. Now, we're at the ten week mark and we can't keep our hands off of each other.

  When he removes his hand and thrusts into me, I see stars sprinkled across the spotty sky, winking from the backs of clouds, from the bits of blue. Ty pushes up my shirt and wraps his arms around me, trailing his wet fingers across my skin. He kisses my neck, teasing my throat with the piecing in his lip as he trails molten lava over me and scalds me straight to the soul.

  Wrapped up and tangled in my mussy hair, the chip earring sparkles in the sunshine like it's smiling. Neither Ty nor I pay any attention to it anymore. It's just there, has been there since I put it on and vowed never to take it off. The sex addiction seems like old news, but maybe that's only because Ty and I fuck each other so much. I don't miss the fact that that's where I go when I'm upset, the activity that I rely on when I'm stressed, but I think that's okay. When we fuck, Ty and I spin the universe into a million different shades of stark ass beauty and bloody brilliant blinding light. When our bodies meld, we conjure up the one thing this starving world needs most: true fucking love.

  “You're an ass, but I love you anyway,” I tell him, and I have to push back tears. I don't know why. I've been a little off lately. I thought I'd stop being so hormonal after I had the baby, but then again, I don't really know shit about kids. Guess I'm getting a firsthand education.

  “I love you, too, Mrs. McCabe,” he says, just to get my goat.

  But it doesn't matter; Ty has my everything anyway, and I wouldn't change that for the world.

  3

  I put on a red dress for the party, something that matches my hair and brings out the green flecks in my hazel eyes. I don't wear tights or underwear, just a nice set of heels and a coat that has a hidden pocket on the inside, somewhere I can put my wallet.When Ty and I finish, we lay tangled and sweaty together on the lawn chair until bitch-Angelica comes over and starts to lick our bare feet. Ty snaps to suddenly and rises to his feet, brushing a kiss across my forehead before he heads inside and up the stairs. When he enters the room to check on Noah, I can hear him over the monitor.

  “Hey there, Mini McCabe,” he says, and I can't hold back a smile, even with my panties soaked and my thighs moist, my shirt pushed up over my breasts. I just lay there in the sun with a hand on my belly and forget to care about everything else. That's my problem, I think. Ty makes my head fuzzy and unclear, like I'm stumbling through a dream when I'm with him. It's hard to focus on things like bills and jobs when he's walking around with his stupid nose ring and his butterfly tattoos. I sigh and reach up to steal Ty's unfinished cig, lighting it up and exhaling as I wait for him to come back. Because he always does. I don't ever mention this, and Ty doesn't either, but I know he still loves me more than anything in the world, and he always will. “I heart the fuck out of you,” he tells our infant, and my smile turns into a grin. Our baby's first word is going to be fuck. I just know it is.

  “When he wakes up, you want to go to the store?” Ty asks when he comes back outside, and I nod, watching as his shadow falls over me and makes me shiver. God, Never, haven't you had enough? I exhale and hold my hand up, so Ty can take his cigarette back.

  “Sounds good,” I say, wanting to move onto more serious matters, but having lost all of my earlier willpower. See, this is why I tried to get up early. Once Ty comes around, everything else just falls away. “I want a smoothie or something,” I tell him as he sits down on the chair and pulls my feet into his lap. “Anything with strawberries in it, really.” He passes the cig back and watches as I inhale.

  “We should quit smoking,” he tells me with serious eyes. I focus on the piercing in his left brow. It's silver today and matches the bangles on his arm and the rings on his fingers; it matches the one on my hand, the one with the blue stone. My wedding ring. I smile. Frown.

  “We really should.” Neither of us moves to stub out the crackling cherry.

  “I talked to Beth this morning,” he says nonchalantly. Ty talks to my sister more than I do. I don't know why; he just likes her I guess. “She was thinking the whole clan could come up here for Christmas.”

  I snort and Ty raises his eyebrow, his unpierced one.

  “You don't want to see them?” he asks, but I'm already shaking my head, waving my cigarette around as I exhale.

  “I do,” I tell him, and I try not to sound upset that it's been so long. They've had shit going on; we've had shit going on. Things have been complicated. I don't tell Ty that I'm sad Beth wasn't here when I had my baby, and I don't tell him that I'm sad that I wasn't there when she had hers. We meant to be, but life just fucked everything all up. I wonder briefly what Noah thinks about our naming our kid after him. I talked to him just before Mini McCabe was born, but not after. I don't say anything to Ty, but I do miss him a little. As a friend, of course. Zella's still had no luck with him, but I don't think she's given up either. “But they won't make it. They'll try, but getting everybody out here would be next to impossible. We should probably just go down there. We're long overdue for another visit anyway.” Ty watches me and smiles but doesn't say anything else about it.

  “Are you happy, Never?” he asks me instead, and the question surprises me because it comes from seemingly out of nowhere. As if the weather can sense the shift in the mood, the clouds roll over the sun and tiny droplets of water begin to fall from the sky. The dog lifts her head up and barks once before retreating up the stairs and into the back door. The cat, on the other hand, comes darting out. Ty looks at me with those eyes and pierces me with that gaze, and I want to just blurt out that I am, but I don't know if that's entirely true. Some days it is, and others it's not. I'm always happy with Ty, and we don't often fight, but …

  “I'm scared,” I tell him, and he reaches out right away, taking my hand in his ringed one, curling his fingers tight around me.

  “Why?” Neither of us gets up to go inside. The rain starts to pour. I watch as Ty's ebony hair falls into his eyes and sheds droplets down his cheeks, along the tip of his nose. “You know I'd never let anything or anyone come between us.”

  “I know,” I whisper, and my voice is hard to hear over the sound of wetness cascading around us. My cigarette goes out and I toss it into the grass.

  “Then what's wrong? I know this place isn't a palace, but it's … I'm trying to make it a home for you, for Noah.” Tears fall from my wide eyes, but I don't let Ty know they're there. I pretend it's just rain, just cold droplets of fallen sky. I don't know how to explain how I feel to Ty. I've been trying, but it's not easy. I open my mouth to speak when my eye catches on the laptop.

  “Shit!” I grab the computer with one hand and pull
my shirt down with the other. Ty picks up the baby monitor and follows me inside, letting the screen door fall closed behind us. I swipe droplets off the smooth top with one hand and head into the kitchen to grab a dish towel. Noah begins to cry.

  Ty watches me for a moment and then sets the monitor down on the table, moving up the stairs without another word. I want to follow after him and be a good mom and a good wife, but I'm not sure if I can. I've been feeling less and less adequate lately, like I'm not good enough to be the woman they both need. My back hits the cabinet, and I slide to the floor, setting the laptop down next to me and wrapping my arms around my knees. My boobs hurt like hell and I'm nauseous as fuck. Plus, my emotions have just fallen over the edge of the cliff and hit a horrible low. I'm supposed to be happy now. I have Ty and Noah; I've made up with most of my family, confronted Luis. But something is still missing and I'm not quite sure what it is.

  I want to blame it on the house or the New York weather or the shitty buzzing noise that our fridge makes, but if I'm honest, I know that it's all coming from within: I don't feel like I deserve this perfect, fairytale ending. I want it, but I still don't believe that it's something Never Ross should be blessed with.

  When I hear Ty coming down the stairs, I dash at my eyes with the back of my hand to make sure they're clear and stand up, taking the computer with me. I toss it onto the counter and start to prepare a bottle. When he steps into the kitchen, I'm smiling and pretending nothing wrong.

  Neither of us acknowledges that he can see right through me.

  4

  Ty puts the baby carrier on this time and doesn't care that people give us looks over the bullet drawings. They don't get it, but we do. I hold back a secret smile.

  We have to walk to the store because we don't have a car. The rental we had when we first arrived has long since been returned, but it hasn't mattered. We're not too far from the historic downtown area and haven't wanted for anything since we arrived. Except maybe my family. I've missed them like crazy, maybe even more so than the last time I left home. If money wasn't so tight, I'd have flown down there a dozen times already. More than once, I thought about asking Noah again, but I just couldn't do it. Pride wouldn't let me.

  My eyes shift up and watch the gentle roil of autumn sky. The rain has stopped for now and doesn't seem like it'll be back for awhile. Just in case, we brought an umbrella anyway. It has an anarchy symbol on the top of it, courtesy of Ty's storage unit back in Cali. Lacey shipped all of that over to us, too – and paid for it. It surprises me sometimes that I ended up with good people around me. I spent so long feeling alone and lost that I'm having a hard time dealing with being found.

  “Okay, so,” Ty begins as I reach over and take his hand, squeezing it tighter than an afternoon walk would normally warrant. I just need him to feel me here with him, to know that even though I didn't quite answer his question, that I fucking love him so much it hurts. He returns the squeeze and gives me a dimpled smile. I know the subject isn't over yet, but I'm glad he isn't making a big deal out of it either. “We need toilet paper, formula, diapers … ” I watch him cradling our kid's head with one hand, holding mine with the other. He's dressed in a yellow Sexual Obsession Group T-shirt, the one that says Get SOGgy. Sexual obsession is a disease. Find your cure today. I think that it's fitting considering that we're each other's cure. “Shampoo, milk, cereal,” Ty continues, looking like a walking razor blade, sharp and deadly, sexy but dangerous. Even in this domestic setting, he looks wild. I pretend I don't notice when other women check him out, but I do, and I get a perverse pleasure out of it. “And condoms.” Ty gives me a look and I bite my lip.

  “Yeah, that would probably be good,” I say, thinking about how bad we've been about using them. This sort of attitude is going to get us in trouble again. I don't count the number of unprotected sex sessions we've had in the past few weeks.

  “Want to get a goodie?” Ty asks randomly, running his tongue across his lips and casting a glance my way that makes my body hot and soaks my shirt with sweat. He may as well be focusing a fucking laser my way. I try to return his look with one of my own, and feel satisfied when he smirks and swipes his left hand through his hair.

  “What kind of goodie?”

  “Like a toy or some shit,” he tells me, taking his hand from mine and pretending to cover Noah's ears. “Something to make up for having to use a rubber. A vibrator or anal beads or a swing.” I laugh, and it feels good, too good. I should've known that this little up was going to brief, that by the time evening rolled around, I'd be sitting in the bathroom sobbing. I'm just marked by the universe to be shit on.

  “A swing?” I ask, trailing the end of the umbrella against the sidewalk. We've just hit the first of the shops and are starting towards the grocery store at the end of the block. Oddly enough, in this mix of taffy shops and clothing boutiques, there's a sex shop called Fluttering Lashes with lingerie in the front and naughty stuff in the back. We've only been in there once, and we took Noah with us. People stared and whispered, but neither of us gave a shit. We still don't. If we're going to buy a sex toy, we're going to walk in there with our baby and buy one. “How about a cock ring?”

  “How about whatever you want?”

  “I want you,” I say and he grins.

  “I fucking love you,” he replies, and we continue on in silence, wrapped in naughty thoughts. I've never used a sex toy of any kind with a partner before. One night stands don't usually yield the opportunity to whip out a strap on and ask your partner if he's into anal. I glance over at Ty from under a wave of my hair. I bet he's used just about everything in the book, but I'm not going to ask. I don't want to know.

  When we hit the store, we divide and conquer. Ty goes for food and I hit the personal aisles, grabbing our baby supplies, the shampoo, the toilet paper. I decide that I'll probably need some tampons soon and pick those up on my way to the condoms. On the top shelf, pregnancy tests stare down at me with nasty, little smirks. I don't think I need any, but I grab a box to use just in case. It's always nice to be sure and it doesn't hurt to check every once in awhile.

  When Ty and I meet back up and he sees this on the belt, he gives me a look.

  “No,” I say before he can even ask. “It's just another level of precaution.”

  And that, of course, is just more ignorant, wishful thinking.

  5

  When we get back to the house, I end up with horrible cramps and decide to curl up on our bed with Noah tucked in next to me. Ty leaves us there and continues his work on the room across from ours. It's the most densely packed with items, many of them in pretty good condition. This is also the room where Ty's mother stored most of their family photos. Every once in awhile, McCabe comes in and flashes me a photo of him as a child. Sometimes, when I peek in on him, I see him sitting there and staring at something with a blank stare. I don't ever ask about those pictures.

  I turn the pages of my novel with one hand and use the other to hold my strawberry smoothie, the one Ty got for me when even I had forgotten my craving. Ever since I got pregnant with Noah, I've been obsessed with strawberries. I keep wondering when it'll pass.

  “Hey Nev,” Ty says a while later, when I've finally turned the last page of my novel and been hit with the biggest book hangover ever. Sometimes I think it's possible for a book to be too good. If it's bad, who cares if it's over? “Is Noah asleep?” I look down and examine my son's face. It's round and pudgy, too cute to be a product of Ty and me. We're both so … fucked up, and Noah is just … just Noah. I touch his cheek with the back of my hand.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I say as Ty tiptoes in and slides his inked hands under the baby's body, picking him up so softly, so gently that he doesn't wake. Ty's bracelets jingle merrily, but they don't bother Noah. I think he associates that sound with his father already. I imagine that it's more comforting than anything else. “Be right back,” he whispers. “I got a present for you.”

  I raise my eyebrows and watch him go, sit
ting up and stretching, wondering what he could possibly have gotten in our brief time apart. Ty and I rarely spend any time apart, not even when we're here at home. Always, always we're together, pulled close by a magnetic force that pushes and pulls that makes us feel safe and dangerous at the same time, ignites the soul and cools the heart. I love that fucking man.

  I brush my fingers over the corner of my book as I wait, my mind drifting from one subject to another. I need to go back to school. Ty needs to go to school. Noah needs us to go to school. But how do we make this work? How do we get through this? Sometimes I think that I'm too young to have a kid and then I get paralyzed by fear. This is almost one of those moments, but as usual, Ty steps in to save me.

  A purple, plastic bag hits the end of the bed near my feet. I glance at it and realize where it's from. The sex shop downtown.

  “You fucking bastard,” I whisper, but I'm smiling already. “You said you had trouble finding the Cheerios. I knew that was a load of bullshit.”

  “Nah, I was just having trouble finding the cock rings. They were hidden on a display between the glass dildos and the rabbit vibes.” I laugh as I pull my gift up with my toe, grabbing it in greedy hands and dumping the contents out on the bed next to me. It's like a naughty bag of party favors for that birthday party where only you're invited. “Did you get the condoms?” he asks me, and I nod.

  “They're in the bathroom.”

  Ty disappears for a moment to retrieve the box while I dig through the items he purchased. He did, indeed, grab a cock ring along with a pair of lacy, crotchless panties, and some flavored lube. It's not a lot, but it's enough. It's always enough with Tyson Monroe McCabe. Just the gesture is fucking cute.

  When Ty returns, he's already naked and has a condom between his teeth. I watch as he adjusts the volume on the baby monitor and switches off the overhead light, leaving us with the dim lighting from the lamp on the nightstand. When he grabs it in two fingers and winks at me, I know I'm in trouble.