Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Forest
This past week at work has been a hellish mixture of Autumn either laughing at me after some sarcastic comment or flat-out going silent on me.
So be it. She may not be the best employee when it comes to her attitude, but she is when it comes to the clients she works with directly, going above and beyond for them, needing little supervision…
though she continues to harass me about my supposed stench.
Thank god it’s the weekend. I’ll be able to go toe to toe with her without risking my job.
Saturday evening, my daughter is buzzing with excitement to see Autumn again, much more than I am.
And in all her excitement, Josephine leaves the front door open.
She had charged outside hoping to catch a glimpse of Autumn, then darted back inside because she forgot her sketchpad and pencils, or so she tells me later.
I only catch the briefest blur of movement from around the corner of the hallway when Sebastian makes a break for freedom, pumping his little legs out the door, down the walkway, and toward the street.
“Sebastian!” Fear seizes hold of my heart as I sprint after him, clutching Benjamin tightly. “Stop! Stop!” I lose about ten years off my life when a car whizzes by on the darkening street, a half second before Sebastian is about to step off the curb.
He falls backward, wailing with fright, and I drop to my knees, tugging him up and into my arms. That only makes him cry harder, fighting against my hold.
Autumn yells his name from out of nowhere, racing toward us from down the street. She screams shrilly when she narrowly dodges another car that has to hit its brakes with a squeal to avoid hitting her. There goes another ten years off my life.
Sebastian turns at the sound of her voice, reaching for her at the same time as she throws her canvas tote bag down and reaches to pull him into her embrace.
I let him go, as much as it pains me, and Autumn rocks back to sit on her butt in the grass, shaking quite violently.
They hold each other so tight, it’s as if they’re one being.
“What happened?” she asks, her own fright evident on her face as she cups the back of Sebastian’s head with his face tucked into her neck.
“He ran out the front door,” I say as I inch closer, the tiny pebbles embedded in the concrete walkway digging painfully into my knees through my jeans. I swallow past the hard lump in my throat as I rub Sebastian’s back, his cries growing softer.
Autumn drops her chin, kissing the top of Sebastian’s head several times.
“You can’t do that, Sebby. You could have been hit by a car.
” Sebastian is perhaps too young to understand, but maybe there will be a silver lining: if he were to run out again, he may avoid the street and keep to the sidewalk or grass.
One can only hope. “You can’t run away from daddy.
You have to stay with him so he can keep you safe. ”
Autumn means well, but it triggers Sebastian, and he cries, “Daddy, Daddy, I want Daddy.” He’s not talking about me.
“I know, Sebby, I know,” Autumn says, her watery eyes meeting mine. Her attention drifts over my shoulder, and she reaches out once more.
I look up to find Josephine with her rainbow-patterned hard case of art supplies. She slowly lowers herself to the grass, and we sandwich her and the boys between us in a hug. I’m not sure how much she saw until she says with a trembling voice, “I’m sorry I left the door open.”
“It’s okay, honey,” I tell her, stroking her hair. “He wasn’t hurt. Just scared. But we’ll all be more careful to keep the door shut from now on.” I stand and help Josephine up, then hold out a hand to help Autumn next.
She instantly takes my hand, her fingers so delicate and soft, and it’s a kick to my stomach that she immediately scowls and snatches her hand back.
She tugs the hem of her ruffly, bright blue sundress down and resituates Sebastian higher on her hip.
He wraps his legs around her waist, his tears subsiding as he takes comfort in her. I wish I could as well.
“Will you tell your dad thanks for the invite, but we’ll have to skip game night?” I ask Autumn, already turning toward the house and pushing Josephine ahead of me.
“No, Daddy,” Josephine says, suddenly digging in her literal heels—a black patent pair with little bows and tiny kitten heels to go with her best dress.
“I want to hang out with Autumn.” She hooks her hand over Autumn’s elbow, and it’s striking how much Autumn looks like she could be Josephine’s mother.
Taken aback by that stray thought, I tell Josephine, “Tonight’s not such a good idea. We could make some popcorn and watch a movie instead. Hang out with Autumn another night.”
“Please, please,” Josephine says.
Autumn says to me quietly, “There will be a bunch of kids their ages at my sister’s house. Might do them some good to play and have fun, after what happened.”
I pause to consider it, and Josephine looks up with unguarded hope, repeating, “Please?”
“You really don’t mind babysitting?” I ask Autumn with a slightly challenging tone.
Her mouth twitches, but then her shoulders drop. “No, I don’t mind.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to let go of the tension. “We’ll try it.”
“Yay!” Josephine throws her arms around me. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“I’ll watch them while you finish getting dressed,” Autumn says.
Confused, I follow her eyes. Christ, I hadn’t put my shirt on yet, my feet bare on the warm pavement.
After witnessing my epic incompetence as a father yet again, it’s the cherry on top that Autumn is getting an eyeful of her boss’ skinny, half-naked glory.
I’ve got to find time to start working out again.
As if that’ll ever happen. I’m already exhausted thinking of all the ways Autumn might tease me about my weight, or tear into me again for my parenting.
Self-conscious, I turn away fast, jogging up the walkway and into my bedroom, listening for the front door closing behind me.
After changing Benjamin’s diaper, I hurry past the living room into the kitchen, fully dressed and still embarrassed, to finish packing the boys’ diaper bag with a few snacks, clean bottles, and a new can of formula.
“Yup. Be there in a sec,” Autumn says into her phone, ending her call.
Josephine is beaming from ear to ear, excited once more as she sits beside Autumn with Sebastian perched sideways on Autumn’s lap.
I’m struck again by how perfect they all look together.
“Ready?” she asks me with a glare, thanks to my outright staring.
No. After almost losing Sebastian, I’m loath to leave the kids.
Perhaps sensing my reluctance, Autumn says with a gentler voice, “They’ll be fine, I promise.”
“You won’t let him out of your sight?” I ask.
“Pinky promise,” she says, standing and giving me her pinky finger.
Surprised, I quickly hook mine over hers, my heart beating faster at the connection.
Her eyes widen, her lips parting on a puff of air. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“You know what,” she says before Josephine literally pushes her toward the front door.
Yeah, I do. I’m looking at her like I want to “put a baby in her”, as she so crassly stated.
Which I don’t. I can barely keep up with the three that I have.
I’m also her boss. And just over ten years older.
And she’s abrasive and stubborn and utterly infuriating…
and a total angel, despite her username.
This is going to be a long night.
“You’re still doing it,” Autumn says, as if she has eyes in the back of her head, leading us down the sidewalk toward the left.
I wrench my gaze from her ass at last when we get to the stoop of the house three doors down. It’s the only two-story house on the block, the second floor appearing to be a recent addition.
Autumn pushes open the front door without knocking and shouts above the din of laughing children, “Auntie A is here, and I demand hugs and kisses!”
“Auntie A!” a multitude of children shout back, little feet pounding the floor as they rush to greet her, nearly knocking her over when she crouches and returns their hugs, kissing their cheeks one by one.
“About time you—oh, hello,” says a woman who looks exactly like Autumn, but aged a few years older and with gray eyes. “Who are you?”
Shocked that the woman seems not at all concerned to be breastfeeding her infant in front of me, or any other strange man, I panic.
If I look away, she might think that I find her openly nursing to be inappropriate or shameful.
But if I don’t look away, she might think I’m a pervert, checking her out.
I’m sweating with indecision, and in the end, I lift my eyes to the middle of her forehead, squinting to lessen my peripheral vision.
Autumn sticks her thumb out toward me. “Hey, Shayla. This is my ass—butt—” She coughs. “My boss, Forest.”
She was definitely going to say, “asshole boss.” Just great.
“Oh, right, right. I forgot you said he’d be stopping by. And that’ll be a dollar in the swear jar,” Shayla says.
I cough to hide my laugh.
Shayla waves us in past the entry. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.
” She points to a much taller replica of the two, a woman who is heavily pregnant and wearing a more wicked version of one of Autumn’s sly smiles, and introduces her as their sister, Bailey.
She points to Miranda when she steps closer, then to a short brunette named Eden, who gives a shy greeting before she and Miranda disappear into the kitchen on the left.
Shayla rattles off the kids’ names, though it’s hard to keep up, with them all coming and going, either racing around the living room, taking off down the hallway past the couch on the right, or flying up the stairs to the second floor.
I count at least nine children, give or take, not including my three.