20. Mia
MIA
“Two more minutes,” Diego said, and I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or little Liam. We were on the floor in the living room, playing with blocks. I’d stack three on top of each other, Liam would knock them down.
“Bath time after that,” Diego called. That time, I was pretty damn sure he was talking to Liam.
Currently, I had the better end of the deal in this babysitting gig.
Liam was a sweet little guy with wispy blond hair, and every time he giggled, it made me laugh.
Poor Diego was watching us from the kitchen where he was washing toddler-sized bowls and cups.
Who knew one small boy could create that many dirty dishes?
When he finished, he wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and tossed it on the table as he came over. "Okay, little man." Diego crouched down next to Liam who turned his head away, as if as long as he couldn’t see Diego, he was safe from bath time.
“Five more minutes?” I asked, saying what Liam clearly wanted to ask.
Diego smiled at the little boy. “You can play until I get the bath ready.”
“Do you know how to do that?”
“No.” Diego got to his feet. “But the internet does.”
When he left, I took Liam’s chubby little hands in mine. “Your Uncle Diego is going to be a good dad someday.”
We played for a few more minutes before I hugged the little boy to me and got to my feet. “Let’s go make sure Uncle Diego didn’t flood the bathroom.”
When we entered the bathroom, Liam took one look at Diego and made a happy, gurgling sound. Then he took one look at the bath Diego had drawn and screamed.
Suddenly, getting Liam anywhere near the tub was about as easy as shoving a cat in a cat carrier. How did a kid that small get so strong?
"Maybe we could just spot clean him,” I suggested over Liam's increasingly dramatic protests. “I don’t think he’s in the mood for a bath.”
"Paul said he usually loves them." Diego had the little boy now and was bouncing him on his knee. Every so often, he’d scoop his hand in the tub, letting the water flow over his fingers to show Liam how fun it was.
Liam wasn’t buying it.
I grabbed one of the rubber ducks from the edge of the tub and squeaked it hopefully. "Look, Liam! A duckie!"
Liam paused mid-scream to stare at the yellow toy, then reached for it with both hands. I put it in the water, and he went right back to crying. “Maybe one of us should get in there with him?”
“Good thing we brought our bathing suits,” Diego muttered, because of course we hadn’t. But that was enough to get me thinking what he’d look like in one—and what he had looked like shirtless after he went for a run.
Which definitely wasn’t where my mind should be right now.
“Maybe we don’t need bathing suits,” I mused, an idea coming to mind. Then I flushed at Diego’s raised eyebrow. He looked like he was envisioning me the way I’d just envisioned him—although likely with less clothing, given my comment.
Blushing, I slipped off my shoes, then rolled up my pants. Putting my feet in the water, I sat down on the edge of the tub.
“Here you go.” Diego handed Liam over, looking hopeful. I bounced the little boy on my knee, like Diego had done, while Diego used a cup to pour water over the little boy’s legs.
It got all over both of our legs, but hey, at least neither one of us was screaming.
Ten minutes later, Liam was happily sitting in the tub, slapping at the water with his little palms. We’d gotten his hair washed and his soft skin clean, though I was nearly as damp as he was.
Then we couldn’t coax him out of the water. Finally, Diego picked him up and I did my best to dry him off as he happily babbled in Diego’s arms.
Getting the diaper on him was the next ordeal, but finally, we reached a point where it didn’t fall off when we picked him up.
Surprisingly, Liam wasn’t averse to getting into his crib, but I was loath to say goodbye to him. As Diego held him, I kissed his chubby little cheeks and squeezed his little foot. “It was nice to meet you, Liam.”
Liam evidently didn’t want to part from me either, because he grabbed a handful of my hair and wouldn’t let go.
Diego talked him down. "Hey buddy, let's not scalp Auntie Mia, okay?"
Auntie Mia. I wasn’t his aunt, and likely wouldn’t see the little boy again, but wow, that term smacked me right in the ovaries. This whole evening had felt so domestic and cozy. Like we were a mom and a dad with an adorable little boy.
With all my heart, I wanted Liam to have the kind of childhood that Diego and I hadn’t. And as Diego lowered the little boy into the crib, I looked at all the toys on the shelves. The paintings of circus animals on the walls. The books. The mobile.
Liam looked well-loved and cared for, as every baby should.
We tiptoed out and I figured out how to work the baby monitor, which fortunately wasn’t hard to do.
Diego leaned over my shoulder as we studied the black and white image of the little guy.
“Is he already asleep?”
“I don’t know, but at least he’s not screaming.” I started to head into the living room, but Diego caught my arm.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I just… I want him to have a happy childhood.”
Diego’s expression softened. “Me too.” He let me go and got a beer out of the fridge and some ice water for me. “You’re good with him,” he said when he joined me on the sofa.
“So are you. Very good godfathering skills.” I clinked my glass against his bottle.
We decided we were too tired to do the homework we’d both brought, so Diego turned on the TV.
“This okay?” he asked. It was some action movie filmed before I was born, but I nodded. “Thanks for coming with me tonight.”
“You’re welcome. It was an experience.”
“And definitely a two-person job.” Diego took a long swig of his beer. “I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk about your issue with Sara.”
“That’s okay. This took my mind off of it for a while, but I think that’s good.
Babysitting is a healthier distraction than…
some other kinds.” I looked away, not wanting him to see my face as the memory of sitting in Cody’s lap and kissing him at the movie night resurfaced.
Followed by the memory of me sitting on Diego’s lap and kissing him at the Halloween party.
Crap, was I going to do that with all my roommates? Hopefully not with Raymond.
Diego was watching me, and when I met his eyes again, I thought he wanted to ask me what out-of-character things I’d been doing lately but was too polite to.
Thank god.
We watched the movie in silence for a few minutes. My feet were still bare after the bath, and I pulled them up on the couch next to me. That made me lean more toward Diego, and he swung his arm around my shoulders.
And it felt right, somehow. And very different then last time I’d been this close to him on a sofa. That had been fast and frantic and desperate. This was about friendship and comfort.
After a few more minutes, I leaned my head against him.
“Tired?” His arm tightened around me.
“Yes. It was a long week. But it ended well.” I looked up and his face was right there, his mouth close to mine.
My gaze fell to his lips, but then I made myself look away.
If I ever got kissed by Diego again, I wanted for us both to want it, not just because we were drunk or because we’d accidentally bumped heads.
With effort, I focused on the movie again without actually taking any of it in. Diego leaned in, pressing his lips softly against my head and inhaled deeply. “Your hair smells so good,” he murmured. “It almost smells like?—"
He went completely rigid next to me, and everything changed in a heartbeat.
"What—" I started to say, but then he was pulling away, practically launching himself off the sofa.
"It was you." His voice was rough, shocked. He was staring at me like he'd never seen me before. "At the Halloween party. It was you."
My stomach dropped straight through the floor. All the blood seemed to drain from my face as I met his wide, horrified eyes.
"Diego—"
"God, I never thought—” He ran a hand through his hair, practically pulling a handful of it out. "I didn't mean to—I never would have…"
I hugged my knees to my chest. This was it, the moment I’d been fearing for weeks. "It's okay," I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady even though my heart was hammering against my ribs. "You didn’t do anything wrong."
“But I did.” He let out a harsh laugh that made me flinch. "It’s all coming back.” His face flushed and he seemed to be looking inward. “The way I kissed you. The way I touched you, and right in the middle of a fucking party.”
“We both were—” I got to my feet, and he took a step back, like I was radioactive,
“Shit!” He turned away.
“Diego?” He had his back to me. "You didn't do anything wrong," I insisted, but he wasn't listening.
"This is so fucked up." He was pacing now, three steps to the window and three steps back. "You've been living in the house this whole time, and I had no idea. No wonder you seemed so damn uncomfortable around me in the beginning."
"At first, yes, but not now. Diego, please?—"
"I'm supposed to be looking out for you. All of you. That's my job, my responsibility, and instead I—" He gestured helplessly between us. "I fucked up.”
I’d never heard him speak about himself this way, and I didn’t like it now. “Nothing’s changed between us,” I began.
"Of course it has." His laugh was bitter. "God, what you must think of me."
His self-recrimination was over the top, but I’d seen that kind of thing before.
Many foster kids had been yelled at so much over the years that we eventually took over the job ourselves.
Sara had always had big reactions when she felt she did something wrong.
Maybe that was part of why she’d turned to drugs.
I reached for Diego, intending to touch his arm, but he pulled away.
“Don’t,” he said.
I stared at him unhappily, but before I could think of the right words to use to get him to snap out of it, a thin wail came from the direction of the nursery. Evidently, Liam had woken up from the raised voice.
"Shit," Diego muttered, already heading toward the hallway. "I'll get him." He stopped just before disappearing down the hall. “If I’d known… if I hadn’t been so goddamn drunk…”
“It’s okay,” I said softly.
“No, it’s not.” His voice was equally soft.
Then I was alone in the living room, staring at the spot where he’d just been.
For weeks, I’d been worried about this moment, thinking that it would be awkward and embarrassing. But I never dreamed he’d react this strongly.
I couldn’t just sit there while he kept looking at me like I was a dog he’d kicked. We’d both been at that party. We’d both been drinking. We’d both had our hands and mouths all over each other.
Gathering up my shoes and my bag, I stepped out onto Paul’s front porch. My hands shook as I closed the door behind me. The night air was cool against my flushed skin, and I sucked in deep breaths, trying to calm down.
This was worse than I'd imagined. I'd thought maybe he'd be embarrassed, maybe a little awkward, but this... this felt like rejection. He was obviously disgusted with himself for what happened at the party. But I’d behaved the same way he had, so was he disgusted with me, too?
There was a rusting porch swing in front of the living room window, and I padded over and sat down, wincing slightly as the edge of the seat pinched my bare calf.
I slipped my shoes back on and waited. Maybe when Diego was done getting Liam back to sleep, he’d grab the baby monitor and come join me out here.
But he didn’t.
Instead, after about five minutes, my phone vibrated. It was a text from him.
Stay there. Aaron’s on his way to pick you up. Don’t go walking around in the dark.
I bit my lip as I read and reread his text. Okay, he wanted to make sure I got back to the house safely. He was a kind-hearted, responsible man, and I wouldn’t have expected anything else from him. But the ache in my stomach made me wonder if anything was ever going to be the same between us.
The little dots under his text indicated that he was typing again, and I stared at the screen, willing him to send a message that would make this all better.
But after a long moment—far too long for a two-word response—his message appeared.
I’m sorry.
That was all it said.