Chapter 14 Brek
brEK
The knock on the open door has me glancing up from my desk. I knew it’d be Zaiden without having to look. I can count on one hand how often someone else has come to my office since I started here over a year ago. I’m the Van Doren pet. Or spy. Who knows?
“You have the Sampson and Markowitz files?” he asks.
I nod toward the wire tray just inside the door. “Yep. Right there. All ready for you.”
“Cool.” Zaiden thumbs through the files in the tray. “What’s going on with Lowell?” He opens the file and looks at the notes.
“They’re pretty insistent that they can get $100,000 more for their house than what it’s worth, despite being listed for nine months now because twelve years ago, their cousin in Pennsylvania went into a bidding war three days after her house was listed and sold for ninety-k over list price.
They clearly know more than we do about the market. ”
Zaiden shakes his head. “You want to drop them, have at it.”
I shrug. “Whatever. They’re the ones paying two mortgages, not me. They’ve turned down three reasonable offers, but their house needs a fuckton of work, and it’s never showing-ready, so…” I shrug again.
“Got to love homeowners,” Zaiden says.
“It’s not even sentimental value,” I say. “They didn’t raise their kids there. They didn’t build the house. It hasn’t been in their family for generations.”
“They’re greedy.”
“Yes. And have no concept of value. Not just of their house, but I’m being judgmental so I’m not going to comment on anything else.”
Zaiden chuckles. “How’s the newest Van Doren?”
My heart jumps when I think about Axl. Thinking about him makes me think about Voss, of course. “He’s good. Growing. I think Voss has already packed away the first load of baby clothes Axl has outgrown.”
Zaiden snorts. “Tell me about it. They grow too damn fast.”
“You have a couple, right?”
“Son and daughter, yeah. They never stop growing. Never. Shoes, man. I swear to fuck, I replace shoes every week that are too small. Ellsworth is talking about learning to make shoes.”
I laugh. “I’m not going to tell Voss that. He’s already baffled how a kid that only weighs seven pounds can be too big for the rompers he’s only worn once.”
“Tell me about it. Ellsworth came home with an adult-sized small shirt the other day and tried to give it to Preston and told me he’d eventually grow into it. He won’t have to replace it for at least eight years.”
“Cute,” I snort.
“Makes you want to run right out and have a kid, huh? I’m totally selling this parenthood thing.”
I chuckle, but my mind goes to Voss. He’s always so damn tired.
Yet, he always has a smile for Axl. He doesn’t complain, except to comment on how tired he is, though I don’t think that’s a complaint more than a constant state of mind.
And he loves his baby more than anything.
I’ll never not smile when I see how he looks at Axl.
“I’m not really convinced one way or the other,” I admit. I glance at the doorway he’s standing in, and the Van Doren plaque shimmers. “Hey, have you ever met Rome Van Doren?”
Zaiden looks to where I am. “Nope. I’ve talked to him a few times. He’s currently in northern Oregon, though I don’t know what he’s doing there. I assume there’s a Van Doren Real Estate branch up there.”
“It’s strange that he’s never here, isn’t it?”
“I think it’s stranger that he has an office at a branch he never visits. It’s a waste of space,” Zaiden comments. “At least you get use out of it.”
And a target over my head but Jalon walked me straight into this office the day he introduced me to the staff. “Maybe it’s here for when any Van Doren is in the area and needs a place to work,” I muse.
Zaiden nods, shrugs. “No idea. Speaking of Van Doren, I hear that they’re breaking ground on the reserve behind the estate soon.”
“You know more than I do, so if you’re looking for the dish, I don’t have it.”
“You live in the enormous house, don’t you?”
“Zaiden, it’s like nine million square feet. I can go years without seeing Jalon.”
He snorts. “Wow. Exaggerate a little, will you?”
“Okay. How about this? Jalon is currently preoccupied with his new grandson. I haven’t heard anything about the project.”
“That I believe. Hey, listen. I’m heading out. Good luck with Lowell.”
I raise a shoulder and let it fall. “I’m done trying. If someone shows interest, I’ll send an offer. I won’t be going out of my way for them anymore. Not until they get a reality check.”
“Did you check out the cousin’s property by chance?”
“Yeah, it’s on a damn lake and has a boathouse. The lake now has an ordinance that no new boathouses can be built. That’s why it went for what it did. They’re grandfathered in on something coveted. Which is apparently irrelevant as far as Lowell is concerned.”
Zaiden sighs. “I’m cool if you want to drop them.”
“When we hit a year with no movement, we can revisit that.”
“Get out of here, huh?” He taps my doorframe and leaves my office.
I glance at the Van Doren name on the door again and muse that if anyone should have this office in Rome’s absence, it should be Zaiden. He’s the supervisor.
The privilege of living in the big house, I suppose. Then again, I could offer the office to Zaiden. I’m considering this as I shut down the laptop and pack up.
The sun is hot. It’s always hot. There aren’t enough clouds in the sky in Arizona. Like there’s an invisible wall that keeps them away.
I climb into my car, anxious to get the AC on, but as I try to start my car, the engine chugs or gurgles or something. The engine light is red. But then the car starts as if the moment never happened. No warning lights. No strange noises.
“I need to get this thing checked,” I muse.
Not for the first time, I wish some Van Doren at the estate knew about cars.
For right now, it’s running without complaint, so I head straight home, determined to remember to ask someone where I should go to check my car.
There must be a mechanic on the property.
There are dozens of vehicles used throughout the estate for the farm and shit.
Unsurprisingly, I forget about my car issues when I pull into the garage and take the elevator to the third floor.
It’s still relatively early, so I don’t expect to see any of my friends around.
By any, I mean Levis. Maybe Honey Bee, but let’s be real.
She spends most nights at Myro’s. I don’t know why she pretends to keep her room here.
Yes, I do. Because I hate change. If she doesn’t officially move out of her room, I have no reason to turn into a dickwad.
I look at Honey Bee’s door as I leave my room. Hmm. I wonder if I poke my head in, I’ll find her belongings still there. Maybe she moved out and simply didn’t tell anyone. Maybe she told everyone but me. I don’t blame her. I’d have done that too.
Without an actual destination in mind, I wander down the hall and pause in front of Voss’ door. Over the last week, since he showed up in my room in the middle of the night with Axl, he’s been there often. Most nights.
In fact, we hang out again after work. Now with his mini me. Axl is a good baby. His cries are still startling because I rarely hear them. Perhaps alarming is a better word. When a child rarely cries, their cries can make me jumpy.
Across the hall is Axl’s nursery. The door is almost always open. He doesn’t use it yet. It’s easier for Voss to have all of Axl’s immediate needs in his room for easy access.
Instead of bothering Voss in case he’s asleep, I wander toward Axl’s room.
The walls are dark, ranging from black to deep blue to royal purple.
The walls and ceilings are covered with galaxies, stars, and asteroids.
A meteor shoots across the ceiling. There are half a dozen planets that hang from the ceiling.
Based on the wires I see, I think they serve as lights.
The furniture is black and light gray, both blending in and elegantly standing out.
I’ve never seen a crib like that. You’d think it’d be a spaceship, but it’s this big, elegant wood beast with intricate carvings.
The bedding isn’t space themed, and yet, there’s an industrial vibe to it, though I can’t say why.
This isn’t a nursery. This is a room out of a magazine.
“Visiting Axl’s room, huh?”
I jump and spin around to find Voss in the doorway, holding his son. “Sorry. The door was open, and I’ve only ever peeked on my way by.”
He shrugs. “No biggie.”
“It’s a cool room. I bet he’ll love it growing up.”
Voss looks around and nods. He seems to admire the decorations before he looks at me again. Crossing the room, he stops in front of me and gives me a kiss. I smile. But then he’s putting Axl in my arms, and I’m borderline panicky.
His hands hold over mine, keeping them in place.
“This used to be my room,” he says, and I glance at him.
“We didn’t live here when we were kids, but we’d visit with Dad during holidays and shit.
This was my room until I was thirteen and grew out of it.
Instead of telling Dad I wanted to change my room, I picked up my shit and dumped it into the room across the hall. ”
“Why?”
“There are more rooms here than we’ll ever use. Why not?”
I snort.
His hands are still over mine, keeping my hold on Axl secure. “I thought it’d be cool to have him grow up in my childhood room, just how I left it. Different furniture, of course. It also worked out since it’s right across the hall.”
I nod and glance around, though my attention doesn’t move from Axl for long. I’m not sure if I’m afraid he’s going to turn into a worm and wiggle his way out of my hold or what, but I’m terrified that if I look away, he’ll suddenly end up on the floor.
Voss presses against me, sandwiching Axl between us, but not so tightly that he’s bothering Axl. “Take a breath, Brek. He’s not going to shatter.”
“How do you know that?”
“Their bones are very pliant when they’re born. They begin to harden as they grow. That’s not to say they can’t break, but just holding him, you’re not going to snap him in two.”
“I’ve never held a baby,” I admit.
“You never held Emerson?”
I shake my head. “Not until he was crawling. Then he forced himself on me and climbed into my lap.”
He laughs. “I see. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to force Axl on you.” Voss doesn’t move to take him away, though. He waits, seeing what I want to do.
“I feel like I’ve kind of forced him on you often over the last week,” he says after a minute.
“Oh.”
He chuckles again. “I see it’s bothering you a lot. Sorry to bring it up.”
I meet his eyes and enjoy the amusement I find there. “I don’t mind your kid being around. It’d be really selfish of me to say I don’t want him around, wouldn’t it?”
Voss kisses my lips again and backs away. He turns to the closet, and I watch, frozen, as he pulls a tote of clothes down from the shelf. “No. You didn’t sign up to date a single dad.”
“I—what?”
He glances at me, smirking. “We’re dating. Aren’t we?”
My mouth works stupidly for a minute, opening and closing like a damn fish. “Oh.”
Voss laughs. “Brek, you’re fucking adorable. You want to date or not?”
“I… yeah.”
“Okay, good. Then I’m going to repeat—you didn’t sign up to date a single dad.”
“It’s not like I didn’t know you’d knocked up some girl when we began… dating. So I kinda did, right?”
He nods absently. “I guess that’s not really what I was trying to say, though I’m not sure what I am. Maybe I don’t want you to feel obligated to… parent. Not even, like, uncle parent, you know? I’d like you not to hate his presence, though. I don’t want you to resent him being around.”
“Voss, I don’t. Why do you think that?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think that. I’m saying I don’t want that to happen. I guess that’s why I wanted you to hold him just now. Not because I want you to share responsibility, but I’d like you to be comfortable in his presence.”
I look down at the sleeping infant. “My discomfort is because I’m twenty-three and I’ve never held a baby before. They’re small and fragile and wiggly; they make noises and smells and gross stuff comes out of their mouths.”
Voss laughs. “Wow. You’re not ready to be a parent, huh?”
“No,” I agree.
“Noted. We’ll use protection.”
I look up at him, and he’s watching me with mirth shining in his eyes. Or maybe that’s the sunlight reflecting off his glasses.
“Little bitch,” I mutter, but I can’t keep the smile from my lips, no matter how much I try.
Voss puts the lid back on the tote and shoves it back onto the shelf in the closet. There’s a pile of clothes sitting on the dresser. I wonder what’s in the drawers if all Axl’s clothes are in totes in the closet.
He joins us again and wraps me in his arms from behind. His chin rests on my shoulders, his arms cradling Axl with me. I have a very strange, surreal feeling of domesticity.
“I don’t hate your baby,” I say ineloquently.
Voss chuckles. “Good.”
“I don’t want to change his diaper, though. Just putting that out there.”
“Noted.”
“Is it selfish to tell you I’d like some time alone with you?”
“No, believe me, I’m ready for some alone time too.
Alone with you but alone with myself as well.
I haven’t been out of Axl’s presence since he was born and…
it’s fucking exhausting. Which is almost frightening because he’s not very needy right now.
I can only imagine how that feeling is going to escalate over the next several months when he begins to sleep less, grow teeth, and demand to be entertained. ”
“Yep, you really know how to sell the joys of having a kid.”
He laughs. “I wouldn’t trade his being here for anything, Brek. That doesn’t mean I want to become only his father. I need to find a balance where I regain my identity. It’s baffling how I feel I’ve already lost some of it and he’s barely a month old.”
That settles it. I’m not ready to be a parent. I’m just going to date one.