Chapter 15
Calvin
“Did you RSVP to the wedding?” Mom asks.
“Yes.”
I neatly place my suit in the garment bag, zip it up, and set it on my bed.
The initial guardianship hearing is tomorrow.
The timing couldn’t be worse, but there’s nothing to be done.
As soon as the hearing is over, Braeden and I are hitting the road to Texas, a state I haven’t been back to in fifteen years.
The thought leaves me a bit nauseous with a touch of anxiety.
My mom yapping on the speakerphone doesn’t help.
“Make sure to pick up a new suit. The colors are white and emerald green. You should get a tie to match.”
“I RSVP’d, but I’m not going.”
Silence. Her silence is always heavy and crushing.
She’s weighing her words to see how far she can knock me down and bend me to her will.
Even worse, I know how she makes me feel and how she affects my mental health, yet I keep talking to her.
The only thing that holds me back from cutting off all contact is that she’ll be completely alone.
“You have to go,” she finally says.
“No, I don’t. They don’t know me. They don’t care. I’ve already sent them wedding money, and a good amount of it.”
I should tell her I’m heading to Houston to take Braeden to his parents’ funeral, but I don’t want to. But then, if I don’t tell her and she finds out, she could make my life a living hell, and by extension, Braeden’s.
I guess she should meet him.
Fuck! This dread is damn near crushing.
“What has gotten into you? You’ve been ignoring me, and you won’t listen when we do talk. Sometimes I feel like you hate me. After all I’ve done for you, raising you alone. It wasn’t easy, you know. You’ve never been grateful.”
I almost snap at her, but I keep my yap shut. With a sigh, I say, “Braeden and I will be in Houston for his parents’ funeral, which is why I can’t be there. I also have the initial custody hearing tomorrow. There’s too much going on. We’ll stop by to visit you. Better?”
“You’re… coming to visit?” Mom can’t help but sound surprised.
“Just for the day before we have to drive back. I can’t be gone long.”
I notice movement out of the corner of my eye to see Braeden standing in the doorway to my room. “Gotta go, Mom.”
Before she can say anything else, I hang up.
“Hey, what’s up, kiddo? You getting packed?”
“I want to go to school when we get back.”
“Do you think you’re ready?”
He shrugs and picks at his cuticles.
“If you think you’re ready, I’ll call the school when we return.
I already have you registered.” My heart palpitates, and my mind tries to spiral.
This isn’t me starting to panic about all the things I need to get done.
I’m feeling the brunt of single parenthood.
You’d think I’d be empathetic to my mother, but she has no excuse for the way she treats me and always has.
Sometimes I hear what she isn’t saying. ‘See, I didn’t have to keep you, but I chose to. You should be grateful.’
“I’m tired of sitting around,” he says, pulling me briefly out of my anxiety. “I want to get back to learning and stuff.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
Things might be different after the funeral, and he could change his mind.
Braeden walks off, and I rub my face, letting out a quiet groan.
Between the hearing, the funeral, getting the CAD drawings and blueprints ready for the hospital wing project and Eagle Saloon, wondering when my next surprise visit from social services will be, taking Braeden to therapy next week, and dreading a visit with my mother…
It’s a hell of a lot. I’m goddamn overwhelmed.
That’s only on top of all the other little things I need to do.
How do other parents do this? How do they not lose their fucking minds?
Right when I think I’m about to fully spiral out of control, I get a text from Seth. My ever-fucking savior. It’s like he can sense it when I need someone to lean on.
Here I am freaking out about being a parent, when he raises three kids alone, runs his own business, and takes care of my ass. He’s not freaking out. God, I need to get my shit together and do better.
Tiger: I’m making lasagna.
Me: Well, don’t burn the house down. I kind of like having
you around.
He gives me an eye-rolling emoji, making me smile. I feel better already. He’s good at doing that.
Tiger: I’m inviting you over for dinner, dumb butt.
That makes me laugh out loud. God, he has a way of pulling me out of my moroseness with a simple text.
Me: You’re allowed to say ‘dumbass.’
Tiger: Anyway!!! Yes or no?
Me: Definitely yes
Tiger: Be here at six
Me: Yes, sir, Tiger
When I send him an emoji of a tiger’s face, he responds with a long string of eye-rolling emojis. I’m now smiling like a madman.
While the kids play video games after dinner, Seth and I sit in the living room, sipping wine.
I have my socked feet up on the sofa, my toes touching his thigh.
I’ve actually started to enjoy the little zings and stomach flips.
It reminds me that I can still crave someone without fucking them, although I’m not sure I wouldn’t try getting him into bed if he were single.
“Would you mind if I paid Harrison to come over once a day to watch Cicero?”
“You don’t need to pay him. He’d happily do it for free, but—”
“I’ll take cash,” Harrison replies.
“He’s a tough negotiator,” I quip.
“Harrison, you don’t need to get paid.”
“I think he should. He can save it for a rainy day.”
I dig in my pocket, grab my spare house key, and hand it to Seth. He takes it and sets it on the coffee table.
“No paying him because he won’t be here. My kids are off to my parents’ this weekend. But I don’t mind watching the kitty.”
“Oh, a hot date night, huh?” I whisper so his kids don’t hear me.
“Yeah, tomorrow. We have some weekend plans, too. I want to expand this relationship, but I’m still not ready for him to meet my babies,” Seth whispers back. “How about you? Ready for this weekend?”
I glance over at Braeden before shaking my head. “Is anyone ever ready? I’m worried about him, and honestly, being there is going to be a reminder of how I ended up neglecting my friendship. The guilt…”
I hate talking about myself and my issues, so why is it so easy to speak with Seth?
It’s like whenever he’s around, I want to hand over my entire backstory to him.
‘Hey, Seth. Thanks for being there for me. Here’s my entire life story that you never asked for.
’ Anyone with half a brain could see I have issues.
“Don’t feel guilty. First, how would you know they were going to… you know? Second, this is common in friendships, especially long-distance ones.”
“I could’ve stayed in Houston. I could’ve found a great job as an architect there, or even started my business. Moving to New Orleans wasn’t quite necessary.”
“You’re leading to something.”
I smile at him and take a sip of my wine, my toes digging more into his thigh because I strangely need to keep touching him.
Is it inappropriate when he’s taken? Probably.
Do I care? Not one bit because I know it won’t lead to anything, and I wouldn’t do that to him, especially not from someone who’s been cheated on.
“When I got the opportunity to move, I jumped on it. I needed to get away from my mother. As soon as I moved, it was like I could suddenly breathe fresh air again. It didn’t take long before I started finding myself, building my inner strength, and dismantling my insecurities…
to an extent. She just… sucks the fu—fudging life out of me. ”
Seth sips his wine and watches the kids play, uncaring that my feet are on him. “Have you thought about going no contact?”
Would you look at that? He doesn’t even question me. He doesn’t leave me in doubt that I might have gotten it wrong or done the wrong thing. Nor does he claim that parents make mistakes, and perhaps I should communicate more with my mother. It feels fucking validating.
“I’ve tried, but she has this way of sucking me in. I’m weak around her. Plus, I’m all she has.”
I watch Braeden play his turn in the game. He seems okay, other than he’s back to being quiet again. I hate this. I want him to feel better, and I have no idea how to do that. Hell, I can’t even get him to fix up his room the way he wants. It still looks like a guest room—a temporary room.
“I’m terrified I’ll turn into my mom,” I whisper again so the boy doesn’t hear me. “That I’ll ruin him.”
Seth sits up straight, sets his glass on the table, then he plucks mine from my hand and sets it down, too. “Look at me.”
God, why do I let myself be vulnerable? I always feel so fucking small afterward. Weak. Pathetic.
“Cal, look at me,” he orders again. When I do, he says, “It’s normal as a parent to feel like you’re failing sometimes. Lord knows I do all the time.”
“You do? But you’re so good at it.”
“Not always. Besides, it doesn’t matter.
We have small, little beings we’re shaping.
We’re making who they will become as adults.
It’s normal to be afraid if you’re doing the right thing, wrong thing…
You think about a situation and wonder if you handled it correctly.
You worry about them growing up and being able to cope and adapt to a harsh world.
Yeah, I worry all the time if I’m doing a good enough job.
And if you’re worried about these things, then you’re right where you need to be, Joker. ”
I fold my legs until I have them crossed and sit up straighter before chuckling at myself. “And all I can think about is my mother. If I’d told her what I told you, she’d make me feel worthless. Thank you for that, Tiger.”
Somewhere along the line, calling him Tiger went from a tease to an endearment.