Chapter 9
We stayed well past visiting hours. The staff knew better than to try to kick us out. Alex and I stayed with Dad until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. He promised he’d call us tomorrow, and we promised we’d be here the next time he called.
I know in my heart only Alex and I will fulfill our promise. Dad won’t call tomorrow. But when he does, whether it’s next week or next month, we’ll be there like we always are. It’s the reason I don’t venture far from L.A. too often. Job aside, I’m tethered here, waiting for that phone call.
After throwing my car into park in the Elm Community parking lot, I look at Alex in the passenger seat. The dim glow of the street lamps against the dark night light up one side of his face as he stares forward. We were mostly silent on the drive back. I’m still put off about his confession about seeing Mom. But what’s the use? My brother is allowed to make his own decisions. He’s the only family I can count on. Why fight?
“You know, I never thank you for letting me drive,” I say, breaking the ice.
“What do you mean?”
I exhale and sink into my seat. “Every time we visit Dad, you never push to drive. You know I can’t stand being in the passenger seat.” It’s been a mental block since the car accident when I was eight. I can still see the blinding headlights coming from my right side. I was too young and shouldn’t have been riding shotgun, but I begged and begged. Mom caved. And it nearly killed me.
Most of the time, I blame her selfishness for leaving. Every now and then, I wonder if it was guilt. Maybe she felt like a failure as a mother. I wish I could tell her she never failed me a day in her life…until she left.
“Yeah, well, I know you’re a control freak.” Alex half-smiles as he reaches over and tries to give me a noogie. I lean away, but one of his knuckles still bores into my skull. “But hey, maybe that’s why you’re so rich.”
The car isn’t running, but I grip the steering wheel tightly. “It’s taken eight years of obsessive focus to get rich. All I think about is money—how to keep it, how to make more of it. How to make Chase indispensable in the industry. I have nothing else.”
He must not have expected my candidness because he’s silent for a while as I reminisce on the last eight years. Working on Chase’s career has been a constant distraction, but now that my best friend is wrapped up in his happily ever after, I’m noticing how lonely it is to only care about making someone else’s dream come true.
“Well, you’ve got a pretty girl right upstairs,” Alex says, breaking the silence. “Maybe it’s time to think about something other than money.”
I shake my head. “That’s a dead end.”
“Come on,” he gripes, rolling his eyes. “You wouldn’t have given her your condo and the Porsche if she were a dead end, little brother.”
“Me, Alex. I’m the dead end. There are broken parts of me that can’t be fixed.”
“No, Adam.” He shifts in his seat so he’s facing me the best he can. “There are broken parts of you that you’re unwilling to fix.”
“Same difference,” I mutter.
“It’s not. Broken pieces are always meant to build better things. You see all the heartbreak you went through as the end. But it was really the beginning. You just never let yourself move forward.”
I shrug. “I’ve been this way for a long time. I don’t know how to move forward.”
“How about you start with a little faith that not every woman on this planet is going to screw you over.”
I raise my brows. “Imagine that.”
Alex chuckles. “All right, I need to get Carson loaded up. We have a long drive home, then I have to be up at the ass crack of dawn to bring him right back to you before my appointment.”
“That’s unnecessary. Why don’t you let me keep him tonight? Go get a good night’s rest and pick him up after your appointment.”
“You don’t have a car seat. How’re you going to get him to your home?”
I nod in the direction of the stairs. “Once upon a time, this was my home. I’m sure Amani’s fine with it. If nothing else, she still has the keys to her old apartment. We’ll figure it out. It’s fine.”
“Don’t offer if you don’t mean it because a good night’s sleep sounds tempting. Carson’s had me up for two nights straight.”
“Something wrong?” I ask, unnecessarily concerned. I give Alex shit for being a plastic surgeon, but let’s not forget who made it through medical school, licensing exams, and a surgical residency. Surely he can handle the medical needs of a toddler.
“Not at all. He just wakes up at one o’clock in the morning, on the dot, belting out his ABCs.” He opens the passenger door. “But you already offered, so enjoy that. No take backs.”
My brother treasures every minute he spends with his son. His reaction right now is more likely due to the fact that he’s exhausted and weary of driving his son forty-minutes through L.A. traffic to get home, especially after an emotionally taxing day with Dad. His shared custody arrangement with Tara requires so much damn driving. I know he doesn’t love it, and on more than one occasion he’s mentioned they should just be together—a real family. But Tara’s the one who pumps the brakes on a relationship. Based on the stories Alex has told me, she might be as damaged as I am.
Me
Hey, we’re back. In the parking lot. Is it okay if Carson and I sleep over, so Alex can get some sleep?
Amani
Of course. But don’t you dare knock. Use your key.
Me
Why?
Amani
I finally got him to sleep. I will throat punch you if you wake this child up.
I laugh to myself at the mental image of Amani balling up her small fist and swinging at me. She’s feisty. It’d probably hurt.
“Amani’s cool. Go home, rest. Call me after your appointment so I can make sure we’re home.”
“Home?” Alex asks, confused.
“Yeah, Elm has a park and on Fridays there’s usually an ice cream truck that rolls through. Maybe we’ll make a little day out of it.”
He clears his throat, trying to control his stupid, smug smile. “So you’re using my kid to play house with Amani? That’s your big play?”
“No play,” I grumble. “I told you we’re friends.”
“Okay, but just so you know, if that’s the play, I’m cool with it. In fact, go make your own baby. Carson needs a cousin.”
I open the driver side door. “Bye, Alex.”
He laughs as he gets out of the car and circles to the driver side of his vehicle, and I wait until he’s pulled out of the parking lot to head up the stairs. Following Amani’s instructions, I use my key to get into the condo. Pushing the door slowly open, I try to avoid any chance of creaking. All the lights are off except for the dim pendant lights dangling over the kitchen island. Looking past the open kitchen, there’s Amani, curled up under her pink comforter on an enormous mattress set up on the living room floor. She’s cradling a large lump under the covers.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hi,” I whisper back, making my way to her side of the mattress. Squatting down, I try to get as level to her as possible. “How’d you guys do?”
“So great. So, so many diapers.” She smiles and scrunches her nose.
“Ah, so that’s the smell,” I tease, forcing a small smile.
Her smiles fade as she scours my face and must see my strained expression because she asks, “Is your dad okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine.” I try to keep my voice hushed as Carson stirs next to her.
She pouts her bottom lip and cocks her head to the side. “You look weary or maybe sad.”
I nod at her. “Maybe a little,” I offer. “I’m mostly just fucking exhausted.”
Reaching over Carson, Amani pulls back the covers on the other side of the mattress. She gently pats the empty space.
“Really?” I ask.
“It’s this or the hardwood floor, buddy.”
“Okay, then.” Making my way to the other side of the blow-up mattress, I debate taking my pants off. I usually sleep in my briefs, but between Carson and Amani sleeping next to me, it’s not an option tonight. I’ll have to swelter in my long athletic pants. I do, however, peel off my shirt and toss it aside. I’m careful as I settle onto the mattress, so as not to jostle Carson awake.
Once I’m under the covers, I ask Amani in a low whisper, “Are you sure this is okay?”
“You’re already here.”
“Yeah, but is it weird?”
“What could happen, Adam?” Amani asks in a hushed tone. “There’s literally a baby between us.”