33. The Blueprint #2
When I get to my apartment, it looks like a tornado ran through it.
There’s a pile of blankets in the living room that once belonged to a fort, a bunch of unfinished coloring sheets scattered across my coffee table beside an empty pizza box, and Auggie and Emma are nowhere to be found.
It seems my sister and my nephew are determined to test my patience, but I don’t have time to waste on a game of hide and seek—I need to get back to my girls as soon as possible.
“Oh no. Where could Auggie be?” I holler into the silent apartment.
As I take another step into the living room, something crunches under my boot.
I squat and pick up the remnants of something made out of Legos. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the curtains shift, following them down to a set of socked feet sticking out the bottom. As if this day couldn’t be complicated enough, I have a mischievous preschooler to contend with.
Normally, I’d draw out the game and pretend to search high and low, but not this time.
I make as much noise as possible searching the bedrooms, then I pull back the curtain for the grand reveal. Auggie squeals and darts past me. I catch him around the waist and toss him over my shoulder. “Where’s Aunt Emma, you little stinker?”
He doesn’t respond, and only then do I realize he doesn’t have his ears on. I set him back on his feet and lower myself to his level.
“Where are your ears?” I sign.
He shrugs, then signs, “Gone.”
Great.
“Emma,” I shout. “You can come out now.”
The pantry door opens, and my sister appears, sliding it shut behind her. “What’s up?”
“Seriously? Look around.”
She holds up her hands. “My bad. We were having fun.”
“I can see that. Do you know where Auggie’s ears went?”
“They’re around here somewhere. He said he needed a break and took them off.”
“You didn’t think to keep track of them? They’re worth thousands of dollars, Em.”
She rolls her eyes and starts picking up blankets and throw pillows off the floor. Auggie’s processors come tumbling out of the pile. He picks them up and puts them back on like nothing happened, while here I was doing mental calculations on how I was going to afford to replace them.
I lift Auggie into my arms and grab his tablet off the couch. “I have to go. I expect my apartment to be clean when I get back.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” She folds one of the blankets in half and drapes it over the back of the couch. “Is Clio ok?”
“She’s fine. I should get back, though. Not my story to tell.”
“You’re a good man, Noah Weston.” She leans in, simultaneously hugging Auggie and me. “See you later, alligator.”
“After a while, crocodile,” Auggie replies automatically.
I stop in the hallway between our apartments and set Auggie on his feet.
I know I need to say something to warn him about what’s waiting on the other side of that door, but I can’t exactly explain to a four-year-old that his favorite person in the whole world is making a life-changing decision right now—a choice that will alter the trajectory of her life forever, whether she decides to keep the baby or not.
She’ll always have a voice in the back of her head asking what if. I know because I ask myself that same question every goddamn day. What if our parents never died? What if Andrea hadn’t overdosed? What if—two small words with the power to heal or haunt.
“I need you to be on your best behavior when we get in there, ok? Lexi and Cici need gentle hands.”
He stares at me curiously, then nods. I’m still not used to this whole parenting thing. I’ve learned a lot from Clio over the last six months, but every day feels like a new challenge.
When we step inside Clio’s apartment, they’re right where I left them. Fresh tears glisten on Lexi’s cheeks. It takes Auggie all of two seconds to assess the situation and rush over to Lexi, wrapping his arms around her. She returns the hug like it’s the greatest gift she’s received.
He pulls back, palming her cheeks. “Don’t cry, Lexi. It’s ok.”
She gives him a small smile that must’ve taken all her strength to muster. “Thanks, Auggie. You give the best hugs.”
He squeezes himself into the open spot between her and Clio. “I do? Better than Cici?”
“Even better than Cici. Sorry, Mom.”
“If I had to lose to someone, at least it’s my best guy.”
I sink onto the couch next to Clio. “I thought I was your best guy.”
“Nope. Sorry. That title belongs to Auggie.”
Just then, Lexi’s phone vibrates on the coffee table, and Hayden’s name appears on the screen. Her face goes stark white as she watches it ring.
Clio picks it up and places it in Lexi’s hand. “You can do this.”
She walks to the other side of the room. With a fortifying breath, she answers the call. “Hello?” She paces the length of the living room and back. “It’s fine. No. I’m ok. Promise. Could you come over? Ok. Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”
She stops pacing and hangs up the call, her hand falling limply at her side as she closes her eyes and tilts her head to the ceiling.
Auggie yawns and rubs at his eyes.
“It’s getting late,” Clio says. “Why don’t you take him to my room?”
I lift him into my arms and carry him down the hallway to Clio’s bedroom, laying him down on the left side of the bed.
“Why is my Lexi sad?” Auggie asks as I tuck the blankets around him.
“I’ll explain when you’re older.”
“You always say that,” he whines. “I wanna be older now.”
I ruffle his hair. “Trust me, you don’t want to be a grown-up yet, bud. Take your time.”
Ten minutes later, a knock sounds at the front door. Clio’s too busy keeping Lexi calm, so I answer it instead.
Hayden’s standing on the other side with a coffee cup in his hand. “Hi. Uh… is Lexi home?”
“She is.”
He tries to look past me into the apartment, but I’m standing in his way.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Noah. Let him in,” Clio says. “Ignore him. Come in.”
I move out of the way to let him pass, and my eyes don’t stray from his back as he trails into the living room and holds out the coffee cup. “I brought your favorite.”
Lexi covers her face and sobs into her hands. I think she says something like, “I can’t even drink it,” but the words are hard to make out.
“I’m sorry,” Hayden says, frantically kneeling at her feet. “What did I do? I know it’s late, but it’s decaf. I thought…”
Clio rests her hand on his shoulder. “You did a good thing. Lex, sweetie. I love that you’re already worried about things like that, but you can have it. It won’t hurt.”
She looks up at her mom, red-faced and bleary-eyed. “Really?”
“I promise.”
“What’s going on?” Hayden asks. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
Lexi and Clio exchange a look, and Clio gives her a reassuring nod.
“Hayden.” Lexi fidgets with her hands. “I’m… pregnant.”
Hayden huffs out a laugh. When nobody reacts, his expression falters, and he blinks rapidly. “You’re serious?”
“Why would I joke about something like that?” Lexi swipes at her damp cheeks.
Hayden stands and starts pacing. “Ok. Ok. This is fine. I can get more hours at the Grove and save up for an apartment. I graduate in a year. By the time the baby’s here, I can work full time.”
“Hayden…”
“I always thought I’d have a dog before I had a baby, but it can’t be that different, can it?”
“Hayden,” Lexi snaps. “Will you sit down and shut up for two seconds?”
Hayden slumps onto the chair adjacent to the couch and runs his hands through his hair. “We could get married.”
Oh fuck no. Absolutely not. I’ve seen and heard just about enough. “Like hell you will.”
“Ok.” Clio abruptly stands. “Let’s give them a few minutes.” With her hand on my chest, she pushes me into the kitchen, but I’m still glaring at Hayden the whole way.
He settles into the spot Clio just vacated and takes Lexi’s hand in his.
“We’re too young to get married.”
He stares down at their joined hands and sighs. “I know, but… you’re my best friend, and that’s my baby. I want to take care of you.”
Hayden’s not much younger than I was when my parents died, and he’s stepping into a role he wasn’t prepared for, much like I was. I can respect his strength, even if there’s a part of me that wants to tear him limb from limb for the part he played in getting them here.
“He’s a good kid,” Clio says. “You can stop trying to scare him off.”
I groan. “That’s not—”
“It is.” She smooths her hand down my chest. “But in the end they’re just two kids who made a very grown-up decision. Now they have to face the consequences.”
I meet her gaze and the tension melts away. My fingertips trace the contours of her face. “You laid out the blueprint. She already knows how to be a mom because she has a great one.”