Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
WILD THINGS
SADIE
I heard Weston and Caleb a time or two throughout the night, but it seemed like Caleb would quieten down so soon each time that I’d drift back off. It must have been a decent night. I’m a little torn about that—I don’t want my nephew to be upset, but I’m not in a hurry for Weston to win him over or for my sister to be forgotten.
And the more Weston bonds with him, the more likely he’ll find ways to boot me out.
I can understand why. It’s already so unusual that he’d invite me to stay here. If I were him, I wouldn’t have invited me into his home.
It will be impossible to avoid him taking my sister’s place. Caleb is too young. As much as I hate this, it just gives me more determination to make sure I’m needed. I shouldn’t have let Weston take Caleb last night, but I feel so much better this morning. I’ll be able to function with some sleep. I actually can’t remember the last time I slept that long, and it was only about five and a half hours. Sasha has always been a night owl, and with me sleeping in the living room, it wasn’t like there was a place I could go to avoid hearing her and Caleb during the night.
I stretch and go into the bathroom, turning on the shower. The tears start again by the time I step into the warm water, and I try to get it out of my system before I have to face Weston for the day. I’m anxious before I’ve even seen him this morning.
Maybe because the sight of him shirtless when he came rushing to help with a bottle is something I can never unsee.
Or hearing him sing to Caleb. That was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.
The way he talks to him.
How hilarious he was about the diaper and then getting his face covered in urine.
Throughout everything, he’s mostly been laid-back and funny, and I’m not even someone he likes.
What is that saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer? I’m the enemy.
That’s the only reason I’m here.
If he keeps handling everything in stride, he’ll soon see that I’m expendable.
When I step out of the shower, I have a new resolve to prove that I’m needed around here. I’m not sure how I’ll do that since I feel as lost about most things with Caleb as Weston is…but he doesn’t have to ever know that. I think maybe I have him fooled so far.
I don’t have many clothes, but I put on my nicest jeans and sweater, put a little mascara and lip gloss on, and look at myself in the mirror before I go out there to face the day.
I’m doing this for you, Sasha.
When I walk out of my bedroom, I expect to see Weston and Caleb on the couch, but they’re not there. I look around, walking past the bedrooms that are open and find the gym down at the other end. It’s an amazing gym, which shouldn’t surprise me, but everything is just so far beyond what I could expect. It really is like one of those luxury home shows.
Do all of Weston’s friends live like this? Did he grow up like this?
After I’ve explored the entire basement, I go upstairs to the kitchen and hear Weston laughing somewhere else in the house. I try to place the sound and decide maybe it’s the library. I’ve been wanting to go back in there anyway, so this is a good excuse to go look without it seeming like I’m snooping.
I turn the corner and walk through the glass arched door, and there they are. They’re on the plush rug in front of the fireplace. Weston is stretched out on his stomach, still in his workout clothes, and Caleb is on his back, looking up at Weston and kicking his feet. Weston is talking to him and then he leans down and blows a raspberry in Caleb’s neck. Caleb laughs a new laugh, harder and louder than I’ve ever heard him laugh, and I just stare at the two of them in wonder for a few minutes, undetected.
Weston is telling him about his favorite book as a kid, Where the Wild Things Are , and he talks about the monsters not being as scary as they might sound.
“I’ll have to get the book for you,” he says. “You’ll have to see it to believe it. The monsters end up being intimidated by Max. That’s the little boy’s name, Max. Cool name. But so is Caleb. Also Caleb…I promise that I won’t ever make you go to bed without supper. My parents never did that with me, and I solemnly swear that I won’t do it with you either.”
Caleb coos like he understands and I’m going to have to add this whole exchange to the list of things about Weston that are too…
He feels eyes on him and glances over, his expression cautious when he sees me.
“Good morning. How did you sleep?” he asks.
“Better than I have since Caleb was born,” I admit.
He nods. “Good. I hoped you were catching up.”
“How did you guys sleep?”
“We didn’t.” He chuckles. “At least not much. And when he was sleeping, I was googling about how to get a baby to sleep through the night. Controversial subject.”
“I think everything is when it comes to parenting techniques.”
He nods like I’m saying something wise. I’m clueless, but it sounded good.
He sits up, running his hands through his hair, and I’m glad I tried to look decent because even after sweating through a workout and staying up all night with a baby, he looks like someone the paparazzi would chase down the street. Oh right, he is .
I can’t count the times I’d catch Sasha stalking him online. Before and after they hooked up.
Even after she claimed that she’d called him so many times and he didn’t return her calls about the baby, she never seemed anything but in awe of him. It wasn’t only him. She was obsessed with anyone that had star power. She lived on a steady diet of reality TV, dreaming of living that flashy life, whatever it took to get there.
It wasn’t like her to let a chance like this pass her by.
I was angry at Weston. Furious, really. But she never was.
I couldn’t understand it. I even asked her multiple times why she wasn’t livid with him. Why she still looked at his pictures all the time…
“ He’s Caleb’s father ,” she said. “And he’s a good person.”
She’d get this dreamy look on her face then that made me so mad.
“How can you possibly think he’s a good person? The guy abandoned you when you needed him most. Who cares if he was nice to you or good in bed? He’s an asshole.”
“Sadie?”
I blink and Weston’s looking at me expectantly. “Oh, sorry. Were you saying something?”
“I was saying my family is coming over today to meet him. We talked about noon.”
“Oh. Okay,” I say, dread filling my body to the extent that I need to sit down. I back into the cozy chair by the fireplace and take a deep breath. “I can make myself scarce during that time.”
He frowns. “That’s not necessary. Unless you’re just not ready to meet them. I know you have a lot to think about right now. But if we’re going to do this, I’d like all of you to get to know each other.”
“I’ll need to see my parents when they get into town. Actually, I should check my phone to see if they’re back yet. I can’t remember what time they left.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and a text came earlier from my mom saying they should be pulling in around three this afternoon.
“I’d like to meet them too, whenever they’re ready,” he says. “I can go to them so they don’t have to drive all this way after they’ve just made a long road trip.”
I nod. Is he really this thoughtful all the time?
“We’ll have to make funeral arrangements tomorrow, I think. There will be plenty of time to meet them in the future. We don’t have to rush it.” My cheeks heat and I close my mouth wishing I could take the words back. In fact, I’d like a restart on this morning. I feel like I’m drowning.
“I know the timing isn’t the best, but I’d like to put their minds at ease about me,” he says. “If I were them, I’d want to know who’s taking care of Caleb.”
“Why are you being so nice?” I ask.
I study my feet because I’m mortified.
“Uh, I don’t know? Because you’re my son’s family. You’ve lost someone so important to you and important to him, and the circumstances of why I’ve been kept in the dark about Caleb don’t matter as much right now. I’m still hurt and upset, and if Sasha were here, I’d demand to know why she did this to me, but…she’s not. And I suspect you guys were just following her wishes. It wasn’t your place to tell me the truth, although I’ll always wish you had.”
My jaw clenches. He’s still turning this around on Sasha, and I just don’t get it…except that it makes him look better.
“We all thought you wanted nothing to do with him,” I say evenly. “My parents never knew you were his father, but Sasha didn’t tell them because you never returned her calls.”
His eyes narrow. “So why didn’t she come find me? She found me at a party. It’s been coming back to me in bits and pieces since I’ve seen her pictures. I’d had a few drinks that night, but I remember. She was at the party to see me. We have a mutual friend, Cal, who could’ve made sure she had the right number. Hell, she could’ve had him get in touch with me if she thought I was avoiding her calls.”
I stare at him until my eyes are blurry and a tear drips down. I’m so tired of crying. It feels like the tears will never stop.
“I don’t know. I don’t know, all right? That’s what she told me. I tried to push her to go see you or to send you a letter…to reach out to your parents’ law offices.”
His eyes flare in surprise.
“I know that she was terrified you’d take him from her. Even when she was singing your praises…especially when she was singing your praises, she’d say you’d win custody in a heartbeat. You saw our apartment. We got by on my tips and government assistance. But Sasha also—” I leave it hanging and he stares at me, his eyes conflicted.
“Sasha also what?” he asks.
“She struggled. She…had diabetes and she didn’t manage it well. She shouldn’t have…” My damn eyes won’t stop overflowing. “She shouldn’t have had Caleb, according to her doctors,” I finally get out.
“She was sick?”
“She was doing okay. She was finally taking her insulin and avoiding all the things she should avoid…she surprised us. After she had Caleb, she got why we’d been after her to take care of herself for so long.”
He looks down at Caleb for a long time and when his eyes meet mine, he seems distant again. Last night and for a few minutes this morning, it felt like we were past that, but a wall has gone back up.
“So you were planning on raising him if something ever happened to her?” he asks, his jaw tight.
“I-yes. I promised I’d take care of him no matter what. She’d ask often, even before she had him, if I’d raise him like he’s mine. To the point that I told her to stop talking that way. She was doing well, she didn’t need to think like that. I’d say, ‘ Just take care of yourself, that’s all you need to do .’” I shake my head and clasp my hands together to keep them from shaking. “She wasn’t satisfied with that, so yes, I promised her I would.”
“So I’m a huge inconvenience to your plans,” he says.
I glare at him. “I didn’t have a plan. I never wanted my sister to die. She tried to talk about it and I’d shut her down. And since I didn’t think you wanted him, I vowed to be Caleb’s everything if the day ever came when she couldn’t take care of him. Mostly to get her to stop talking about it.”
I duck my head and grab a tissue from the side table.
“You’re not doing it alone,” he says, his voice softer. “It’s important to me that Caleb has a relationship with you. Just don’t ever try to cut me out again. I am a nice guy, but I’m a father now, and I have limits.”
I shiver and don’t say anything back. I’m not sure if we’ll ever come to an agreement about this. If we think the other is lying or didn’t do enough to make the truth be known, is there any way past it?