Chapter 6 #2
“You alright, boss man?” I nudge him in the shoulder while he finishes rinsing his coffee mug. He freezes at the contact, but then finishes up his process, opening the dishwasher and carefully placing it inside. He turns to me and opens his mouth to respond, but then he cuts a look at my son.
“Oh, he’s locked in on his channel. He can’t hear a thing.
” Josh still looks skeptical, so I demonstrate.
“Watch.” I spin to Jacob and clear my throat loudly.
Nothing. Josh raises his brow, but still looks unconvinced.
“I’ll buy you a new tablet if you look at me right …
now!” When his brow doesn’t even twitch, I grin triumphantly, and Josh shakes his head at me.
“I’m—fine.” I choke back the wildly inappropriate laugh at that false statement.
“You’re fine,” I say it as a statement, but it’s a question.
“Okay, smart-ass. I’m coping. I’m making my way through each and every day by focusing on what’s right in front of me.
” His eyes dip down to the small form strapped to my chest. “He’s all that matters right now.
” His hand glides over Cassian’s feathersoft hair before he rests it on my shoulder.
With a small squeeze, he whispers, “Thank you, Paige, for showing up for my baby, for stepping in the way you have. I never expect—” His eyes go distant, and he takes a step back from me.
“This was all unexpected, and I don’t really know what I would have done if you hadn’t been so flexible with me. With us.”
These poor boys. Momma is gone, and they don’t know where or why. Cassian won’t know his mother if they never figure this out. He’ll probably grow up in a single-parent home. Like me.
I ward off my own dark memories and soothe myself with the knowledge that he has a loving, well-off father. Josh’s sadness is palpable, though. I want to hold this little family and heal them with some of the extra love I have in my heart.
With another kiss on his son’s head, Josh returns to his office with a small wave.
Every step he takes away from his child looks heavier than the last, the click of his door shutting a quiet punctuation on the distance between them.
I feel the weight of the pain in this house, and it unsettles me in a way I don’t want to examine more closely.
I shake off the melancholy of the moment and get back into our normal morning routine.
Without any breast milk or nursing, we are flying through the formula.
I sink into the motions of prepping it and slip into the memories of Jacob as a baby.
I had desperately wanted to breastfeed, but circumstances that were out of my control made it next to impossible.
I pumped for him for almost an entire year, only producing enough to fill a single bottle each day …
It was one of the most exhausting experiences of my life.
Looking at my beautiful, healthy, growing boy, I’m able to pull myself out of the downward spiral of those thoughts.
Maybe this little one will be different—my tiny invader, safe and sound, growing every moment in my body. Please stay in here and stay safe.
My children will have every opportunity and every comfort.
They’ll have a happy, established, comfortable family with a thoughtful, kind, and loving father.
Trevor. I missed him this morning, waiting as long as I could in front of our house.
When I was down to only having fifteen minutes to get to the Wells’ place, I gave up and headed out.
I miss him. The rock of my life, of our family.
I heft the baby and consider his age. Cassian is healthy, and I strongly believe that he should start leaving the house more anyway. “Worth a shot.”
I get the okay from Josh, then sneak back into the kitchen and poke Jacob in the sides. “Ah! Mom! You’re going to make me lose!”
“What game are you playing?
“Sudoku. I lost my train of thought.”
“Well, I was going to ask you how you felt about swinging by Dad’s office, but if you’re busy—”
“Can we see Dad?”
“Of course, silly boy.”
Jacob slaps his tablet down on the table and hops off the stool so quickly he nearly loses his balance and has to stabilize himself on the island.
He looks around, embarrassed, as if he needs to be sure there are no other witnesses.
The small blush on his cheeks makes me want to smoosh his beloved face. I barely avoid the temptation.
I loaded up the boys—Josh has a meeting—so it is a group trip to the bank.
We enter through the main entrance and make our way up the steps with a loud Jacob in the lead.
“Maybe he can come home early today, or come to Josh’s house? Or maybe—”
“Jacob Lawrence Whitaker,” a sharp, deep voice calls from an open doorway, and I flinch before I pull out an invite from my pocket. Might as well hand it to him in person.
“Hey—erm, hello, Grandfather.” Jacob has stopped bouncing and now stands stoically with his hands folded in front of him and his eyes downcast. I swallow the bile that climbs up my throat at my son’s automatic reaction to someone who is supposed to be his family.
How the warm, gentle, and loving husband of mine came from this cold, unfeeling man, I’ll never know.
Mr. Dick Shitaker, as I mentally refer to him, takes in his grandson and looks right through me as I approach. “Mr. Whitaker, we are having some people over for the Fourth tomorrow—”
“We have plans.” He’s already dismissed my existence and does not move as I hold out the invitation. Instead, he passes us by and enters his office. I follow him inside, ignoring his grunt of dissatisfaction, and place the invitation on his desk.
“Okay, well, I just left it right there for you on your desk.” You asshole.
“If you change your mind, you and Mrs. Whitaker can stop by at any time.” I don’t know why I bother, but I want to always extend a friendly hand to Trevor’s family, to give them a chance to prove to themselves and to Trevor, Jacob, and our newest member, that they aren’t the world’s biggest pieces of dog poop.
That was harsh even in your head, Paige. “Harsh but true,” I mumble.
“Indeed, and Paige?” Richard asks, gesturing outside of his office.
“Yes?”
“This is a place of business, not a playground. Keep the babies and children out of here.” Then, he shuts the door directly in our faces.
I don’t allow my feelings to show as I turn to Jacob. Cassian remains sleeping in the carrier. “Sweetheart, why don’t you find Ms. Tyson and ask her to help you pass some of these out?”
Jacob bounces on his toes and nods with excitement.
I pretend not to know that Ms. Maria Tyson in Human Resources gives him chocolate bars.
“Yeah, Mom. I got it.” His subdued voice makes me feel uncharacteristically violent, but I smooth it down before walking back down the hall toward Trevor’s office.
I deviate slightly when I decide to stop by the restroom first. As my hand hits the door, I see Bethany’s boyfriend, Bobby, and her best friend, Krista, talking and walking together toward where I’m standing.
Unthinking, I squeeze myself closer to the door, but I don’t get very far with a baby strapped to me.
Thankfully, neither looks up when they pause outside of Trevor’s office.
She brushes her hand on his sleeve like there’s lint or something there, and something twists in my gut when he doesn’t flinch away.
Then, Krista slips into Trevor’s office, and Bobby slips away in the opposite direction.
Normally, I wouldn’t give the moment a second look, but the situation with Bethany makes me wary.
I’ve never liked Bobby. He reminds me of a shark.
I’ve always thought he was too old and too full of himself.
Krista, I’ve disliked since high school.
I stand in the hall and wait for her to reappear, but when she doesn’t, I can’t ignore my need to pee any longer.
I do a quick diaper check and change with Cassian first, then use the restroom myself.
The quiet relief I have with seeing no blood when I pee is potent.
The desire in my heart to add to my family is only superseded by my love for my family as it currently stands.
Every day I remain pregnant is a day closer to having another little one in my life to love. A family of four. Maybe a little girl?
I wash my hands and look at myself in the mirror.
My curls are a little limp, and my eyes look tired.
I have spit up on my shirt, visible by Cassian’s head.
My jeans are five years out of style, and my shoes are simple tennis shoes I bought for comfort.
Still, I straighten. The love of my husband and child bolsters my confidence in a way I have never before imagined.
The bathroom door closes silently behind me when I walk down the hallway to my husband’s office. First, I notice that the door is closed.
That is not his norm.
Before I get a chance to come to terms with the closed door, their words filter through.
What I hear is enough to steal my breath.
When I see my boy walking down the hall toward me, I slowly back away from the door, inadvertently bumping into a bench, and meet Jacob a few steps away to gather my wits.
What else did you have to say, huh, Trev?
Deep breathing and distractions in the shape of my excited son help me keep my composure as I walk with my child to his father’s closed office door.
The rest, I can figure out later.
I open the door and plaster a smile on my face. “Knock, knock!”