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The second I stumble through the garage door Ruthie flicks the kitchen light on. I throw up an arm to shield my eyes as I squint. ‘The fuck you doin’?”
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Do you know what time it is?”
“You’re not my mother.” I shrug past her and kick off my boots, making my way toward the bedroom.
“I needed you and I couldn’t reach you.”
“I’ve held up my end.”
“I’m spotting blood. I called the doctor and he said I should come in first thing but if gets worse to go to the emergency room.”
Fuck. Fucking fuck. This is the second miscarriage in the past year. Her first happened a few months after we buried Rochelle. I don’t love Ruthie. Nor do I want to raise another child with her, but I don’t want to lose my son. My future depends on this pregnancy being viable. I lay my cut over the back of a chair and step out of my jeans. “I need a shower.”
Ruthie comes in close and starts sniffing me. “You’re wasted? You smell...” She sniffs my face. “Like another woman. Like pussy. You’re fucking around on me? After everything?”
“I agreed to another baby. Never said shit all about keeping my dick in my pants.”
“I assumed that was obvious, James. Don’t toy with me. You know what I’m capable of,” she says with a sneer.
“I’m getting in the shower then I gotta head back out to handle some shit for the club. I’ll give you a ring to see what the doctor says.”
Her hand moves to her hip, but I slam the bathroom door in her face before she can start flapping them damn jaws with more of her nagging bullshit. I’m in no damn mood. Alexa is under my skin. I’m disgusted with myself. I know I’m a sorry bastard. I knew not to go to that club and be that close to her, but I did it anyway. In the shower I punch the white tiles until my blood runs down them. I fucked up. I’m supposed to protect her not be the man hurting her. Yet I can’t seem to stop. If I stay away, I can’t breathe. If I get too close, I drown myself in her and hate her for it. I’m fucked in the head.
You’ve never fed her.
Held her.
Changed her.
Alexa’s words echo in my thoughts as the hot water sprays down on me. It hurts because it’s the truth. I don’t deserve that little girl. By the time I get out of the shower Ruthie has gone to bed. I’ve tried to force myself to feel something for her, but when I look at my wife the only emotions inside me are regret and loathing. I hate her but can’t bring myself to kill her because we got one thing right. Rochelle.
I ride out. When I reach my destination it’s quiet. All the lights are off. I let myself in with the spare key. The kitchen is tidy, save a few empty bottles in the sink and a can of powdered formula on the counter. I flick on the light over the stove. In the living room there’s a stack of baby clothes folded on the coffee table with a full basket next to it on the floor. On the end table sits a framed photograph of Alexa in the hospital, holding our daughter. I trace the rough pad of my finger along the smooth glass making out their faces.
You’ve never fed her.
Held her.
Changed her.
Creeping down the hall, I’m careful to keep my movements light and silent. I pause at the bedroom door. Alexa is sprawled out in the center of her bed in nothing but a thin tank top and a thong. I want nothing more than to strip down and crawl into bed simply to hold her, but I can’t. At the foot of the bed is a white crib.
The baby fusses and Alexa stirs. I don’t want her to know I’m here and yet I’m not ready to leave. In three steps I’m leaning over the crib and glancing down at Wylla Mae for the first time. Bald headed and big eyed she kicks her legs out, slobbering on her tiny fists.
She resembles Rochelle at this age. I stroke the top of her head, surprised to find that she does have hair it’s just fine and blonde. A spit bubble blows out her mouth. I go to leave but she cries out. The sound splits my heart in two. Alexa doesn’t budge at the noise this time. It’s been a long time since I’ve held a baby, but I pick my daughter up gently, being careful to support her head and bottom.
“Hey, baby girl.” I whisper, strolling to the living room, patting her back as I go. Her sweet baby smell washes over me as I drop my ass to the couch. Laying her across my knees I stare at her. It’s been a lifetime since I’ve done this, but I’m sure not much has changed. “You got my eyes,” I note, studying their brown color.
Her legs kick my belly.
“You’re a strong little squirt.” I pick Wylla up and cradle her to my chest. “I’m sorry I’m not around for you. Life’s not fair, and I got my reasons. Things you’re too young to understand. But I stay away for your protection. There are people who’d use you to hurt me. An evil woman who will hurt your mom if I’m not careful, and I can’t and won’t allow that. You’re too important to me. You need your mom more than you will ever need me. But I want you to know that I love you. Love your mom too. You were born out of the love we share. No matter where this life takes us, I’ll watch over you.” She grabs a handful of my beard, tugging on the whiskers and cooing.
“One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do is walk away from you and your mother.” This sweet, pure child of mine pats my cheek as though she understands. “You got your whole life ahead of you. I’ll be damned if I let you pay for my sins. Only want the best for you. To give you that no one can know you’re my flesh and blood. I lost one daughter then you came along. I was told someone else would raise you. I tried to make my peace with that, but your mom changed her mind. Gotta tell you, Wylla Mae, I’m damn glad she did.” I kiss the top of her head and close my eyes soaking her in. Committing this moment to memory because it can’t happen again. I can’t afford to be weak. Not when her future depends on it. I gotta do this for her. For Alexa.
“She likes you,” Alexa whispers, startling me.
“I don’t know about that,” my voice comes out hoarse. “Listen...”
“No. I’m done listening to your broken promises and lies. You can’t just show up in my life whenever you want. I still love you though I know I shouldn’t. I thought you loved me too, but this...whatever we are is far from love, James.”
“I wish I could tell you what you want to hear. Give you the life I promised. But this is all I can give. You said you’d take me any way you could have me. Did you mean that?”
A tear slides down her cheek. “It’s not enough.”
“Doing the best I can. There’s shit you’re better off not knowing. Can you trust that I wish things were different, and I’m fighting like hell to stay away for your own protection.”
“Did someone threaten me?”
“Nothing for you to be worried about.”
“Don’t shut me out.”
I get up and hand Wylla Mae to her mother. “This is how it’s gonna be.”
“Just tell me why. Make me understand. Give me one reason. A real one.”
“Not tonight.”
“Then when?”
“When the time is right.” I stroke her jaw, and she turns into my caress. “I love you, Alexa. You can question everything else but never doubt the way I feel about you or our daughter. I’m doing what’s best. I need to know you’ll wait for me. As long as it takes to pull us through the other side of the mess I’ve made of things.”
“I’ll wait for you, James, but don’t make me wait too long. I need you. We need you.”
“You gonna keep dancing?”
She shrugs, and I contain my anger even though my blood is boiling at the thought. I don’t want to fight with her in front of the kid. “I need to change her.”
“I can do it.”
Her brows shoot up. “You want to change her diaper?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Her stuff is on the changing table in the bedroom. I’m going to make her a bottle.” She shoves Wylla Mae back into my chest.
A putrid smell wafts up from the back of her sleeper and something wet touches my hand. “Fucking hell,” I mutter.
“Did I forget to mention that she’s wet?” Alexa rolls her lips inward fighting her giggle, but I hear it under her breath. Serves me right though.
“She’s more than wet.” I stomp down the hall and lay the baby on the changing table. First damn thing I do is clean my hand off with a baby wipe. “All right.” I rub my palms together. I can do this. It’s just a shitty diaper. No big deal. I unsnap her sleeper and go to undo the latches on the diaper when she rolls to her side, and that’s when I see it. Greenish yellow nasty fucking oatmeal looking shit streaked up her back. I throw a hand over my mouth and gag. “What has your mother been feeding you? Alexa,” I holler. “I’m gonna need a damn hose.”
Wylla Mae blows a spit bubble at me then kicks her legs, making it worse.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I scowl at her and she babbles at me.
“Just like her dad,” Alexa says from behind me. “I started her bath.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. This is how it should be, and I feel like a rotten bastard that I gotta leave soon with no idea when I’ll return. But she said she’d wait for me. As long as it takes.