“Let me get this straight.” I rub my forehead firmly with my fingertips. “You show up and demand I suddenly drop everything to watchyourchild for a minimum of, what, four days so you can be drunk the entire time?”
“First off, I have work, too, so don’t get all fucking judgmental on me. And second, I would do the same if the roles were reversed.”
“Jesus, Katie, fine. I’ll do it. Did you pack enough diapers this time?”
“If you don’t want to do it, I can find someone else,” she snaps, and I snort inelegantly. “What’s so funny?”
“No, you really can’t. No one wants to deal with you, so you always come to me.”
“I really don’t know why you’re being such a bitch about this. You love him.”
“Did you bring enough diapers this time?”
Katie practically throws the diaper bag at me, ducks down to brush a pathetic excuse of a kiss to her son’s head, then breezes away down the corridor. I grip the edge of my door tightly, wishing I could slam it. It wouldn’t solve anything—it would scare Ashton—but it would feel so good. Sighing, I swallow all the curses I want to say and let the door close gently on its hydraulic hinges.
Thankfully, spending time with Ashton is as easy as breathing, even during his tantrums—of which there are many. I know he’s only acting out because of the lack of stability in his life, so I fight my way through them as much as I possibly can. I live for this little boy, and I would never change a thing about my time with him. That doesn’t mean it isn’t its own version of Hell.
For the next two days, we play and go grocery shopping and watch TV together. I read stories to him and take him to the playground. I cuddle with him as much as he’ll allow me to.
I’ve just laid his sleeping body in his bed when my phone lets out a series ofbloop-bloop-bloops from the kitchen counter. I pull the blanket over Ashton, tucking his lion under his arm, then exit the room. After making sure the door is ajar, I move to answer the incoming video call. Holden’s smile dims on the screen.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” I say as I rub a hand on the back of my neck, pressing firmly at the knots gathered in my muscles. “Just tired and annoyed and wondering why my stepsister is such a crap human.”
At his inquisitive look, I explain what happened while I rummage through the fridge for a snack. His frown grows deeper the longer I speak; his expression darkens to something I’ve never seen on his face. When I finish speaking, he tries to assure me things will get better:
“She can’t be self-absorbed forever.”
I want to believe him, I desperately yearn to, but I can’t let myself. Not anymore. I’ve spent too many nights wishing Katie would grow up and be the mother Ashton deserves. All that’s ever happened is being let down again and again when she proves she’ll never change.
“I think you need a vacation,” Holden announces.
I reach into the bag of grapes in the drawer, plucking a bunch from the peduncle. My lips pinch together, brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I think you need a vacation. Here. With me.”
And the hesitance in his voice does something to my insides. I freeze with a grape halfway to my mouth and stare at him through the connection. I attempt to protest—I can’t leave. I have responsibilities. I have Ashton to think about. He may not be my child, but he’s my whole world. But Holden presses on:
“You’re not in school right now. You don’t have a job to deal with. I know you’ll miss Ashton. Hell, I miss him, and I’m not nearly as attached to him as you are. But, Dealla, I also missyou. I’m a very selfish, selfish man who wants to spend time with you.”
I fidget with the grape, roll it between my fingers, as I think about his words. I miss him, too, more than I should for such a new relationship. There’s no doubt in my mind that visiting him could be a grand experience. I might not even regret it. But being in Tennessee means being away from the toddler I love. It means not being able to ensure he’s being properly looked after while I’m gone. It means being spontaneous in a way I rarely am. The runs and painting are nothing in the grand scheme of things. Leaving Austin to visit Holden would be everything.
I promise to think about it. Giving Holden my number, after all, was a spontaneous decision, and I haven’t regretted it yet.
My mind made up a day and a half later, I send a screenshot of the email to Holden and bring up the message thread with Katie.
Dealla
Just a heads-up. I’ll be gone for a week starting August 28. I won’t be able to watch Ash during that time. He can call me whenever he wants, and if there’s a problem, I’ll come straight back.
Katie
K. Can u keep the kid again tonight? Got something to do
“Something more important than your fucking child?” I mutter even as I send back a thumbs-up emoji.
New Faces
