Chapter 6
SIX
ANDY
“Mommy how long are we staying at grandma’s house?” Max asks. Her big, innocent brown eyes stare at me, a frown on her lips. She hates being around my mom as much as I do, but there’s nowhere else for her to go, and I can’t have her with me at work for sixteen hours.
On the drive over, I called into work to see if there were any rooms available, but our small hotel is completely sold out, which I should’ve known. Besides, even with my employee discount, the rooms are too expensive.
“Only for the weekend, baby. We get to move into our new place on Sunday.” Her eyes light up at the mention of our new apartment. My girl loved our previous apartment, but it was a studio, so we had to share the small space.
Our new apartment has two bedrooms, and Max has been looking forward to finally having her own room. She’s slept with me since the day I brought her home from the hospital, so I’m not sure how I feel about her being away from me.
“Do you pinky promise I can get a princess bed?” she asks, holding up her tiny pinky to me. The moment she found out she’d be getting her own room, she'd been asking me for the four-poster canopy bed she saw in a furniture magazine we got in the mail.
I may not have a lot of money, but I make sure my baby is well taken care of and has everything I never had.
Since we’ve always slept together in my bed, she’s never had her own. Now that she’ll be getting her own room, I’ve been saving to buy her a bed, and it may not be perfect, but I’ll find a cheap canopy and make her the best princess bed. I can do anything on a budget.
“I promise.” I loop my pinky with hers, an easy smile spreading across my face.
“You’re the best mommy ever!” she shouts, pure happiness radiating from her. “I will tell all my friends at school that I’m going to have the bestest bed in the world.”
Smiling down at her, I brush an escaped curl from her hair and tuck it back into her powder-pink silk bonnet. I don’t know why I bother putting a bonnet on her, because with the crazy way she sleeps, it always comes off during the night, but I’m hopeful it’ll stay on so that her curls aren’t too wild in the morning. I know my little diva only likes to wear one because I do.
Everything I do, she has to do.
My beautiful girl is the perfect image of me. Sometimes looking at her feels like I’m looking at an image of myself at her age and it makes my heart hurt, because how could my mother look at that sweet face and choose to turn away and get high? I’ll never understand it.
Max has my wild, brown curly hair, my big, rounded brown eyes, and full, pouty lips. She didn’t get her small button nose, round face, and deep dimples from me. Her complexion is also darker than mine. I’m biracial, half Black and half white. My skin is more caramel while hers is more of a deep bronze.
Sometimes, I hate myself for being so promiscuous and not knowing exactly who her father is. One day she’ll ask and be old enough to know the truth. And I’ll have to tell her.
My baby girl is gorgeous, and when she smiles and I see her dimples, my heart aches because of how perfect she is. She’s everything good in my life. I may have been a wild teenager, desperate for the attention of men, but I wouldn’t change anything because one of those men I freely gave myself to, gave me my daughter.
I’ll never regret her, or the fact I got pregnant at sixteen.
“Get some sleep, sweetie. Mommy has to go to work now.” I give her the brown teddy bear that I bought the day I found out I was pregnant. She hugs it to her chest, and I pull the blankets over her small body and tuck her into the small twin bed that I used to sleep in. I brought our own bedding here because I didn’t trust the sheets Diane provided. It’s bad enough that I’m leaving my daughter here overnight.
“Do you know how much I love you?” I ask, kneeling beside the bed once I have her as snug as a bug in a rug.
Her face lights up. “With all your big fat purple heart.”
“That’s right.” Leaning forward, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll see you in the morning.” I stand and turn on the lamp beside the bed and walk toward the door, turning the overhead light off.
“Goodnight Mommy, I love you so, so, so much.”
“I love you baby, sweet dreams.” Quietly closing the door, I step into the hallway, taking in a deep breath to calm myself.
God, I hate having to leave her alone. Leaving her with my mother of all people.
She’s never been very good at hiding her addiction—or when she’s high. I’ve always been able to tell, which is why I came to her face-to-face this afternoon rather than calling. I needed to look into her eyes to know what kind of day she was having. Needed to know if she was sober and had people over.
Diane has been calling me and claiming she’s sober, but she’s said that many times before. The one week a month she was sober, she’d cry to me, begging me to give her another chance at being my mother, promising she was going to remain sober to be the parent I deserve. Promise after promise was made, yet every first of the month, without fail, she’d use her social security check to purchase drugs. All those promises meant nothing.
I learned a long time ago that words are useless. A person can say anything they want, but unless they have the actions to back it up, they’re simply wasting air by speaking.
That’s why I don’t trust anyone. The only person I can rely on is myself.
I cannot count the times I’ve found Diane’s glass pipe laying around or seen her passed out with a needle still sticking out of her arm because she got so fucking high that she wasn’t even able to pull it out before passing out.
She never cared about putting her own child in those situations, but she’s never been that way toward her granddaughter. Any time she knows Max is going to be around she cleans herself up and is always sober. Not that she spends much alone time with my daughter. In fact, this is only going to be the second time I’ve ever allowed Max to stay over.
The first time was when I was running late from work because I got stuck covering a shift and needed her to get Max from school until I could get home. I was in a panic the entire time, fearing the worst.
When I called her for help, I was desperate. I hate asking for help.
To my surprise, when I arrived, Max was thrilled to have had time with her only family member, and she even showed me her pink fingernails that Diane painted for her.
She never would’ve done that for me.
I’m glad she treats Max better than she ever has me.
“Don’t ya need to get to work?” The sound of Diane’s voice snaps me away from my thoughts, and I realize that I’m still standing outside of my old bedroom, my hand gripping the door handle.
“Are you sure you’re okay to watch her overnight?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, you perfect princess. I’m capable of taking care of my sleeping granddaughter. ”
I ignore her insult. “And you’re sure that no one is coming over tonight?” My anxiety is rising. My heart is pounding. I can’t do this. I can’t leave my baby here in the same bed where I used to lay in fear watching the door.
For a small moment, I think Diane’s going to say something to answer my question and ease my worry, but her eyes drift off and that’s when I know she’s full of shit.
She’s never able to look at me when she’s ready to lie.
I should’ve known better than to count on her. Even for a single fucking night.
“Fuck this.” Turning my back, I return to the bedroom and instantly lock eyes with my girl who is lying there wide-eyed, hugging her teddy bear, looking every bit as innocent and pure as she is.
The pain in my chest intensifies.
“Mommy?” She sits up, love and happiness filling her eyes at the sight of me.
“Damnit, Andy. Leave her be. She’s fine here tonight.” I ignore my mother, grab Max’s backpack, and slip one of the straps over my shoulder.
“Put your shoes on, baby. You’re coming with me to work.” I kneel down to help Max into her pink fluffy slippers.
Clapping her hands, Max cheers. “Yay! I love going to work with you, Mommy.”
Once her shoes are on, I pick her up and leave the trailer and my shit-talking mother behind.
I’ll never forgive myself for almost leaving my child there.
Tears sting my eyes at the thought of my child ever having to be in the same situations as me.
The moment I pull into the parking lot, I’m rushing to get Max from her car seat in the backseat along with her backpack. I’m fifteen minutes late, and Lila has already been blowing my phone up with texts asking when she’s going to be relieved of her front desk duty .
I hadn’t planned on responding, but by her fifth text I had to, so I told her I’d be covering and was on my way.
She sent three more texts after that.
It’s fifteen fucking minutes.
Carrying Max in my arms, I rush into the lobby, sweat beading on my forehead from the Nevada heat.
Good thing I’d taken the time to apply more deodorant while in the car.
Stepping into the hotel lobby, the AC instantly cools me down, causing a shiver to race down my spine from the chill.
Lila must have turned it down, because it’s never this cool in here. It feels good, but I know the owners will complain so I make a mental note to change the thermostat as soon as I can.
Seeing me, Lila instantly perks up. “Hey, boss. What happened to Maggie?” I don’t answer her until I make my way into the back office and set Max down on the chair at the desk.
“She called in.” Setting down the pink backpack on top of the desk, I unzip it and bring out Max’s snacks and blanket, setting them in front of her and wrapping her in the blanket.
My sleepy girl rubs her eyes, letting out a big yawn. It’s past her bedtime.
Mine, too.
I’d love nothing more than to cuddle beside my girl and go to sleep, but thanks to unreliable employees, here I am. Stuck working a double shift because no one else wanted to work.
“Thanks for staying a little bit later. You can go ahead and clock out now,” I tell Lila while quickly signing into Netflix on the computer and turning on a show for Max.
Once my daughter is set up with snacks and a show, I walk through the door that places me directly behind the front desk and sign in on one of the computers, scrolling the list of guests currently staying at the hotel, hoping to find a vacant room.
“Did all reservations check in?”
“Yup! The last one checked in a couple hours ago, and I placed him in 107, which was the last room we had available. ”
Nodding, I turn my attention toward her. “Thanks again, Lila. Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She disappears into the back office then leaves, waving goodbye as she crosses through the lobby, heading toward the entrance.
Grabbing the white cordless phone from the counter, I slip it into my back pocket so I’ll have it with me in case anyone calls, and I won’t have to rush back to the front desk. Stepping back into the office where Max is still sitting, I watch her for a moment. Her small fists rub her tired eyes, a wide yawn escaping her, yet her attention is fixated on the computer screen.
“Baby girl, I’m going to go make some coffee. Do you want to come with me?” I ask,checking the security cameras to do a scan of the hotel property, my brown eyes bouncing between the different screens in front of me that are displayed on the wall.
When I don’t get a response, I look over my shoulder. “Max?” Her nose scrunches, and I know she can hear me. “Max? Look at me.”
With a huff and eyeroll that matches mine, my daughter finally looks at me. I’m never able to be upset with her attitude because I’m the one she gets it from.
She’s my mini-me in every way.
“I’m watching my show, Mommy.”
“Yes, but I asked you a question, so you need to answer me.” She blinks. “Do you want to come with me into the kitchen?”
She shakes her head, causing her dark curls to bounce with the movement. She pulled her bonnet off while in the car, so I left it. Her hair will be a frizzy mess come morning anyway.
“Can I go to the snack machine?”
“Sure, baby.” Grabbing my wallet that I placed in her backpack so I wouldn’t have to carry my purse, I grab some cash and place it in her outstretched, awaiting palm.
Every time she comes to work with me, she loves going to the vending machine and selecting a snack. Each time, she gets something different. She tells me it’s what she wants, but I know it’s because she doesn’t quite understand how to select the corresponding numbers to get the exact item she wants.I’ve tried to help her, but she wants to do it independently, so I let her.
After checking the cameras once more, I turn to her and help her to put her shoes back on before getting her down from the chair and leading her out of the office, her small, soft hand in mine.
“Get a snack for me too, and come right back here, okay?” She nods, her smile wide as she holds one dollar in each hand.
Max skips off toward the vending machine, and I watch her go. Once I see her reach it, I walk in the opposite direction to the kitchen.
From where I stand in the dining area, I have a good view of Max, and I watch her stand on her tiptoes to reach the machine, inserting a dollar and then pressing some buttons.
A smile spreads across my lips at the sight.
She’s my world. Everything I could ever ask for.
Every day I worry that I’m not good enough for her, not giving her everything that she deserves in life.
Many nights I have laid in bed, watching my baby while she slept, silent tears streaming down my face because I don’t understand how my mother could turn out the way she did. How she could look at her daughter and still choose to bring the pipe to her lips or stick the needle in her vein is something I will never understand.
The trauma I have because of her shakes me to my core.
When the machine beeps, signaling the small pot is brewed, I turn my attention away from my girl long enough to reach for a cup and add French vanilla creamer and sugar to my liking before pouring in the coffee.
More liquid creamer than coffee, but I like it sweet and hate the bitter taste.
I should’ve brewed a larger batch, but I don’t want the stomachache that’ll come along with having too much coffee.
With my cup in hand, I grab a granola bar from the counter then leave the dining room that we use for daily continental breakfast and make my way across the lobby and back toward the office.
When I glance outside, I no longer see Max, so I assume she’s back in the office.
“Alright, baby, what snack did you get for mommy?” I ask, pushing the office door open, my eyes landing on an empty room.
“Max?” I call out, setting the Styrofoam coffee cup and granola bar on the desk where she was sitting. Looking around, I continue calling her name, my anxiety rising the longer I go without hearing her voice.
Leaving the office, I run to the bathrooms to check in there. Maybe she had to go potty. Usually, whenever she has to, she asks me to go with her, which is why I’m not surprised when I find all the bathroom stalls empty.
“Max? Baby?!” I call out, rushing through the side lobby doors that’ll take me to the vending machine where Max had been only moments ago.
Only there’s no sign of her.
Why the fuck didn’t I go with her?
I’m so fucking stupid.