Chapter 8
“PERFECTLY WRONG” BY SHAWN MENDES
Four houses down.
That was how far I was from Quinntessa Dawson most nights.
So close and so far. I never stepped on their lawn again, too worried about that dog sniffing me out.
I hadn’t seen it outside yet, but Erica told me she’d heard it barking late at night.
I was sure if I ever checked in with Duke, he’d tell me the same thing, since his dad lived on the street behind Erica.
I leaned against the window frame and peeked through the blinds as Quinntessa ran down the sidewalk toward her house. Her hair was in a tight ponytail when she ran past the first time, but the breeze had ruffled her curls enough to make a mess of her crisp work.
Erica was working on homework at her desk across the room while Estelle played with her toys on the floor. I thought they’d miss the way I continued to watch out the window from Erica’s bed, awaiting each lap Quinntessa made.
I was wrong.
“She’s got no friends.”
The blinds fluttered as I ripped my fingers away from them, eyes lingering.
I had already been caught. What was the rush now in dragging away from Quinntessa’s fitted joggers when they complimented her curves almost as much as those high-waisted pink jeans from yesterday?
While I might have had hidden agendas, I could still appreciate a good-looking individual.
Especially a woman.
“Go be a friendly neighbor then.” I turned my head and raised my brows at Erica’s sharp glare. “What? Jealous I’m not staring at you, babe?”
Erica pressed her lips together and flickered her eyes to Estelle.
“No,” she said. “I just want you to know my uncle says she’s a little unstable. She has literally no friends at all besides that dog. The dog is apparently crazy as shit, too.”
“Aren’t we all?” I shrugged.
“Els, please,” Erica groaned, rubbing her face. “Can we just not involve my neighbor in your slutty habits? I don’t want to deal with it when I watch Stell. If she comes knocking, I might knock her out. You know I ain’t gonna play with your side pieces.”
“Deal wid it!” Estelle pointed at her godmother with a large pout.
I laughed and tossed my notebook to the side when Estelle turned to me for approval. I shook my head and sat behind the little girl, pulling her into my lap and smacking a kiss to her cheek.
“You must be sweet to Aunt Eric,” I whispered in her ear, glancing at Erica’s annoyed scowl, “or she’ll turn into a witch!”
Estelle leaned into my chest and giggled. “I like Eric the witch.”
“So does your mom,” Erica scoffed, rolling her eyes. She tried to remain the grump I knew her as, but a smile fell over her lips as she watched Estelle melt into my lap in a fit of giggles. “What’s funny, munchkin?”
“You.” Estelle hugged her doll and flashed a bright grin at us. “So funny. So funny.”
“So funny,” I echoed, tickling her sides.
She squealed and tried to run, but I hugged her tightly. Her little body eventually gave up fighting me, and she turned around to hug my neck. I blew a raspberry in the crook of her neck, grinning as she laughed loudly and hugged me tighter.
I missed a lot of these moments when she was younger—eight months in juvie and multiple months of staring down at a child I had no connection with.
I knew sometimes, I came off as a deadbeat mother, always handing my kid to Erica, but this was what kept her happiest. Estelle knew my best friends better than me.
I gave birth to the kid in Erica’s car, nearly into my best friend’s arms.
“Mommy, stop it! No!” Estelle squealed.
“Okay. Okay.” I pulled back and kissed her nose. I held her steady as she wiped her face clean of my lipstick. “Do you want to play with your toys while Mommy works on homework? Orrr, do you want to sit beside me and watch a movie while I do homework?”
“Hmmm.” Erica spun around in her chair and picked up the remote from her desk. She waved it in the air and smirked. “I think we should watch a movie so you go to sleep and take an N-A-P before dinner.”
“No!” Estelle rushed off my lap and grabbed her doll. She scrunched her face at me and huffed. “Not gonna hap-eeen.”
I blinked at my daughter’s serious scowl. “Alright, alright.”
“Good, Mommy.” Estelle spun with sass and returned to her toys. “This is my bebe. A beebeee! He gets his air now cause no one . . . no one be hoggin.”
I gasped at the clear tang in her voice.
I’ve noticed it a few times, but it was easy to hear now that Estelle was near Erica.
My daughter was losing the Russian-laced accent she gained from my mother while I was in juvie.
Sure, she spent time with Erica, but nothing close to how much time Estelle spent with her entire family now.
“This is what you get for leaving your Russian kid with a bunch of Latinas,” Erica snarked.
Shoving my face into one of the pillows on the floor, I muffled my laughter the best I could. My head shot up when a loud thud ruptured my state. I howled with more aggressive amusement when Erica busted out laughing and fell completely out of her chair, trying to contain herself.
We both could barely meet each other’s eyes. Erica was Estelle’s second mother, Olivia coming in at a close third. Little moments like these happened often, and I’d always been so grateful for them. I needed to laugh until my lungs bled, or I might scream until the tears in my eyes turned to fire.
“Erica ángel Kane! You know your father is sleeping!” Camila Kane shouted from down the hall, much louder than Erica and I were being.
Erica, red in the face and half stuck in her chair, tried to smack me with the nearest pillow to get me to shut up.
She continued to laugh, sputtering and tripping over her uneven breaths.
I couldn’t stop laughing at her hooked ankle in the chair’s arm rest. It was almost as funny as hearing Erica’s head slam into the floor repeatedly in my mind.
I almost forgot we were laughing at my daughter’s attitude.
“Sor . . .” Erica cleared her throat, swiping tears from her cheeks. “Sorry, Mamí! Q’s being a bad mom again!”
“Nooo, don’t rat me out to your mom. Be nice to me,” I whined.
“Be gone, demon!” Erica tossed a pencil in my direction.
I shoved Erica and scoffed. My friend tried to swing her knee at me but lost her footing. I smacked my head back into the iron bars of her bed when she fell the rest of the way out of the chair, covering my mouth to stop my violent laughter.
“Eleanor, that goes for you too, mija! You can be grounded too!”
“Yes, ma’am!” I climbed over Erica and straddled her waist, slapping her hands away from me as she tried to shove at my abdomen.
“Ew!” Erica shrieked. “Get your fat ass off me!”
I plopped onto her again and giggled when she grunted. We slapped at each other’s hands.
“Don’t act like you’re not a grumpy power bottom.” I poked Erica’s cheek and laughed at the girl’s red face.
“Eleanor, get off before I cut your tongue out so girls lose interest in you!” she hissed.
I hastily grabbed Erica’s wrists. “Stell, get her. Get her, babe. Take Auntie Eric down!”
“No!” Erica shrieked, her shoulders relaxing some as Estelle rushed over to assist. She was such a good auntie. “Stellie, have mercy on me!”
“I got Eric, Mommy!” the little girl cheered, forgetting all about her earlier worries.
Estelle scrambled over and jumped on Erica’s chest. She squealed happily as Erica grunted in an exaggeration of the discomfort I knew she was most likely in.
She put on a show so Estelle thought she was causing her little pain, grunting and groaning as Estelle rolled around on top of her with her favorite raven-haired doll.
I slipped to the side and let Estelle take over the assault.
“Oh, you got me.” Erica fell back against the ground and smiled at Estelle’s goofy grin.
I sat back and watched the girl peck my daughter’s pale cheek. A small smile graced my features.
“I got you, Eric,” Estelle whispered, squishing my best friend’s cheeks together with her little toddler strength.
“You got me, Stellie Bellie.” Erica gave her a smile only reserved for Estelle.
My chest burned. Heartburn was a close comparison.
A raging house fire was a close second. I hated Erica Kane most days, loved her every other one.
I told myself she was my soulmate. My best friend.
The mother to my child if anything happened to me out there.
I played a dangerous game. I had become comfortable knowing Erica would always protect Estelle if it came down to it.
She was fucking crazy, but she was my best friend. She was Estelle’s future, not me.
And for that, I hated her. Erica Kane would always be a better mother and friend than I was ever meant to be.
“I love you,” I breathed out.
Her gem-like gaze left my daughter and peered up at me curiously. She’d been blessed with these amber eyes that matched no one I’d ever met before. Erica Kane was a beautiful soul, and I was lucky to have her in my life.
She never returned my words, but I knew. Erica was my best friend. We didn’t need words to know we cared for each other.