Chapter 2 Distance #2
Johnny isn’t only my dad’s dearest friend, but he is a longtime business associate of my father’s.
I’ve always stayed out of their business dealings, but I’m not a complete fool.
I know Johnny is, or maybe was, my father’s number two, and he did some pretty shady shit in his time.
I don’t doubt for a minute that he’s murdered a person or two over the years.
Daphne places the keys next to me but keeps her hand on top of them. “Let me go over a few things with you first.”
“It’s a Jeep, Daph. I think I can figure it out.” I cross my arms and lean against the bar because I have a feeling this isn’t going to be a quick conversation.
“No, she’s special,” she tells me, putting me in my place and reminding me she’s just as crazy as our mother.
I roll my eyes, but she is dead serious.
“You want it or not?”
“Fine. Go ahead,” I tell her and throw my hands into the air, giving in to her insanity.
“Sometimes the brake pedal sticks. You have to be very careful how hard you handle her. Ease off the brake slowly, but don’t take too long, or she’ll stall.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” She nods at me like I am a complete moron. “She’s temperamental.”
“Shocking,” I mutter because the car sounds a lot like my sister. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”
“If the baby pukes on the seats, you’re cleaning it up.” She points at me again, twisting her lips. “Got it?”
“Yeah, sis. I got it.” I reach for the keys, but she moves them out of the way before I can grab them. “Fill her up too before you bring her back, but none of that low-grade crap either. She needs premium gasoline.”
“Anything else?”
She finally moves her hands, leaving the giant keys along with a freakishly large fuzzy heart on the keychain. “Nope.”
I’m going to look like an idiot carrying around her set of keys, but at least it’s dark, and I don’t have to worry about running into any of my friends. I try to jam them into my pocket, but the heart’s too big to fit, and the damn thing dangles near my hip for the world to see.
My mother’s waiting at the top of the stairs, standing outside the door. “What’s wrong?” I ask as soon as I see her.
“She’s asleep.”
“The baby?”
She shakes her head. “The girl.”
Well, fuck. “How? It’s only been a few minutes.”
She shrugs. “Babies are exhausting, and she’s going through something. One minute she was talking, and the next…”
“I’ll wake her up.”
My mother puts her hands up in front of herself, stopping me from moving past her. “No. Let her sleep. You can take her home in the morning.”
“The baby, Ma.”
“We’ll set up a little sleeping area for her too. I need you to carry Delilah to the bedroom for me.”
Somehow, I’m the only one who sees a problem with this. I want to argue, but this is my mother, and I know there’s no way I’ll win. This girl who we don’t know is going to wake up in the morning and totally lose her shit. I know I would if I were in her shoes, but my mother doesn’t feel the same.
“I’ll stay too, then. I’ll move the girl and then be back after I help Daphne close up for the night.”
“Before you get busy working, go down to the corner store and grab formula and a bottle.”
“Is there a certain type?” I ask, knowing nothing about what babies eat. I’ve never had to buy a baby bottle, and I didn’t think I’d ever have to either.
“Just get one with a decent nipple.”
I stop myself from making a joke because I don’t feel like getting smacked upside the head as my mother follows behind me and has the perfect opportunity and angle.
Ma gently lifts the baby out of Delilah’s arms. I hold my breath, waiting for her to wake up and start swinging, but Delilah just mumbles under her breath for a moment before going still again.
“We can just leave her here, no?”
Ma rocks the baby, sniffing her hair like she often did when my niece and nephew were little.
“I miss that smell,” she says with a look of sorrow and happiness all at once.
“No, I want her to be comfortable. The poor thing couldn’t keep her eyes open.
She deserves a good night’s sleep. Being a mother isn’t easy, Luc. ”
“I know, Ma. You keep reminding me.”
Thankfully, Ma has her hands full, or I’d get a smack upside the head for my smartass reply.
I watched my three-year-old niece and one-year-old nephew for a week after my sister-in-law died after a short battle with cancer.
I have never been so exhausted in my entire life.
I could barely find time to shower with the two of them around, but it was something I did for my brother and the rest of the family so they could grieve.
Delilah’s lighter than I imagine as I lift her into my arms. Her head rests on my chest and tips back, giving me the perfect view of her delicate, soft features.
She has a set of freckles on her left cheek, and they almost form a tiny heart.
Her skin is flawless and without makeup.
She’s nothing short of a natural beauty.
I’m so used to the girls at Hook & Hustle with their layers of makeup.
Sometimes when I wake up the next day, they don’t even look anything like the girl I banged the night before.
I walk carefully, taking small, steady steps toward the bedroom so I don’t startle her awake and earn myself a black eye.
There are so many ways this could go bad, but I do it anyway. Delilah can lay into me tomorrow. Scream. Yell. Whatever. I can take the anger from a stranger and move on, but there is no way I’m going to go against my mother on this one.
I place her on Daphne’s old bed just below her poster of Mandy Moore that’s started to curl at the corners. I grab an afghan from the dresser and cover her under my mother’s watchful eye.
“Formula and a bottle. Don’t forget, babies like big nipples.”
“We all do,” I mumble as I walk out the door, typing out a message to cancel my date for later.