Chapter 55
55
LAYLA
K arli, Ziggy and Inez all stand in the doorway of my new bedroom. Or, my old bedroom. Depends on how I look at it.
Either way it’s strange to be back here.
“Wow, Razor is an even bigger pig than I thought,” Karli remarks, plugging her nose.
“Who lives like this?” Inez mumbles, looking around the place in horror.
I spin around in a slow circle, appraising the damage. This is not good.
The main bedroom is the worst of the mess. I’ve never seen anything like it. Every inch of the floor is covered. And it’s several layers deep. Clothes. Shoes. Dingy towels. Trash. Dishes.
And the smell… Ack !
The girls came over to help me clean out my new house—I’ve decided we’re calling it that now; it sounds way better—so we can get the place ready for me and Sky to move back in.
I knew it would need some deep cleaning to make it livable again. But holy cow. I didn’t expect this.
“The aura is giving off some real funky vibes,” Ziggy mumbles. She turns around and starts opening all the windows in the house. I don’t stop her.
I just stare. “I actually don’t think this is Razor’s mess. He’s a slob, trust me. But this? None of this stuff is his.”
“Whoa. Seriously?” Inez questions. “This is all Janet’s crap?”
Ziggy is going around with a burning incense stick in each hand now, pungent smoke wafting all around the house. “I’m not one to girl-shame, but I have never seen a woman make this kind of mess. This is like, possession-type scary.”
“Maybe that’s not a baby in her belly? You ever seen Alien ?” Karli chuckles.
“Okay now, be nice,” I scold them, holding back my own laughter. “We all know Razor’s not easy to live with. Plus, she’s like very pregnant.”
“Umm, you used to live with Razor,” Karli argues. “And you’ve also been very pregnant. And I know for a fact that you did not live like a rabid animal. So, let’s not make excuses for the woman.”
“Okay. Fine,” I mumble. “I guess I can’t argue since you all are the ones helping me with this disaster.”
We spend most of our morning cleaning out Janet’s filth. We stuff everything into trash bags. Trash bags to take over to her parents house, not throw in the nearest dumpster. I had to fight the girls on that one. Then, we divide and conquer the kitchen, the living room and the bathroom.
By the time we call it quits, the place is sparkling clean, and we’re all starving. I order a couple pizzas for delivery to thank the girls for their help. Though I think pizza hardly covers it. I couldn’t have done all this without them.
“Damn. It sure feels good to say that this is my home. My safe place.” I drop onto the couch and tuck my feet beneath me.
“Is it going to be weird moving out of Archer’s place, though?” Inez asks, grabbing a slice of all-dressed from the open box.
“Why would it be weird?” I ask, trying to act unbothered as I pull a green pepper slice off my pizza.
The girls all trade a look.
It’s Karli who speaks up. “Look, this thing between you and my brother might not have started out in a ‘traditional’ way, but we all see what you two have built together.”
“She’s right,” Ziggy chimes in. “The two of you are crazy about each other. You don’t have to be a psychic to see it.”
“And when Archer looks at you?” Inez fans herself. “The whole room catches on fire.”
“And he’s so good with Sky,” Ziggy adds.
“Right?” Karli agrees. “My brother is always such a grump to other people, but when your kid’s around, Archer is a whole different person. He just lights up at anything Sky says or does.”
My heart squeezes. Maybe they’re right about all of it. Or maybe Archer’s just a really good actor.
It felt so good when he claimed me as his woman to Razor. But he only did it to defend me. He didn’t mean it. He doesn’t mean any of this. Even if he thinks he does, he has no idea what he’d be getting himself into with me. All I’d bring to his life is chaos.
“He really is a catch. You really shouldn’t let that man get away from you, Layla,” Inez presses.
I sigh, dropping my half-eaten slice of pizza back in the empty box. “I’ve already considered all that. But it just won’t work.”
“Why not?” Inez questions.
“For starters, Archer is my best friend’s brother. I would hate to lose Karli if things went sour between her brother and me.”
My bestie scoffs. “Bitch, you could never get rid of me that easily. Never. Next excuse.”
I offer her a sheepish smile. “Plus, there’s the age gap.”
Ziggy snorts. “You’ve been with a guy your age. How’d that work out for you?”
I roll my eyes.
“He’s only like ten years older,” Inez argues. “That’s not too much.”
“Eleven,” I correct her.
“So, what? It takes longer for guys to mature. This just puts you on the same page,” Karli points out.
“What if he wants kids someday?” I throw out there. “I haven’t decided yet if I want to have another baby.”
Inez shrugs. “You’ve got a lot of time to decide. A man’s sperm basically has no biological clock. He could be out there making babies when he’s like eighty.”
“Charming.” I cringe, imagining poor Archer four decades from now, changing diapers and pushing a stroller.
The conversation veers off as Inez tells us about some actor on her TV show who just had another kid at eighty-five years old with his much younger fourth wife. Everyone’s trying to do the math and we realize that the kid’s oldest sibling is old enough to be their grandparent.To each his own, I guess.
It has me doing my own math. If I wanted a second child in a few years, that’d make Archer about forty. I’m not sure he’d want to be starting fresh with a newborn baby at that point in his life.
I sigh again, trying not to feel sad.
My friends all have valid points. But they don’t get it.Some things are just not meant to be. Even things that feel really, really good. Like being with Archer.
I know I will be miserable without him. But, I’ve considered it all, and I just see no other choice. Yet again, in my life, I need to make a tough, adult decision. No taking the easy way out here. I have to focus on being a grown-up, supporting myself financially, managing a household, and taking care of my kid.
Playing pretend with Archer was fun. But I have to move on.
Half an hour later, I’m locking up the house and the girls are climbing back into their cars.
That’s when a taxi pulls up in the driveway, gravel crunching under the tires.
We all stand around, on edge, waiting to see who will emerge from the vehicle.
The back door finally creaks open and a woman steps out, looking tired and haggard and broken.
I take in the gray hairs woven into the familiar mahogany strands, the mascara smudged beneath her eyes that are the same shade as mine.
I take a step forward, my eyes widening in shock. “Mom?”