4. Erissa
“Lord, why is that man so damn fine?” I whispered when I made it to the kitchen.
This job would test more than my childcare skills. It would also test my willpower and restraint. If River kept looking at me as if he could have me for breakfast, lunch, and dinner daily, I might just become his favorite meal.
Before making the grocery store order, I looked online for healthy, hearty meals. I was used to cooking on the healthy side because as my grandparents aged, I was responsible for cooking their meals. They weren’t professional basketball players, so I had to find meals that would be filling too.
On the menu tonight was spinach pesto pasta with broccoli and a Caesar salad on the side. I’d never made this meal before, so I was a bit nervous about how it would turn out. River didn’t seem very picky, so I hoped he didn’t choose today to start.
I could see into the family room from the kitchen, so while I cooked, I looked at him and Riverlynn every so often. The sound from the TV deprived me of hearing the conversation he was having with the infant, but I could tell he was talking to her.
About twenty minutes into my meal preparation, he stood, with his daughter in his arms, and joined me in the kitchen. He sat at the table, facing me, which rattled my nerves even more.
“Whatever you’re making smells good. The only time my kitchen ever smells this good is when my mom visits,” he said.
“I’ll definitely take that as a compliment. Does your mom visit often?”
“Not as often as I’d like. I have a younger sister who’s a senior in high school, and my mom works at the high school she attends. She refuses to quit until after Rylee graduates, so her time isn’t as available as I’d like.”
I giggled. “You sound bitter.”
“Shit. I am. I could’ve really used her help, but apparently, she has responsibilities that are more important than her son.”
This time, I released a laugh from my belly.
“Like what, your sister and her job?”
“Yeah, I guess, but I had an emergency situation and was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Thank God you accepted my offer.”
“I’m glad I could help, but hopefully you don’t have any other women out there carrying your children and decide to leave them at your doorstep.”
“Don’t jinx me, but I shouldn’t. I honestly don’t know how this happened. I never have unprotected sex, I supply my own condoms, and I dispose of them myself when we’re done.”
“Maybe you slipped up once and don’t remember.”
“Nah. I don’t drink often or heavily in general, but especially not during the season, and I don’t smoke, so my mind is always in the moment.”
“Well, condoms aren’t a hundred percent effective. Let’s just say that your little mini was meant to be here. I don’t know much about you, but fatherhood looks good on you.”
He looked at Riverlynn, who seemed content in his arms.
“Considering the way it just fell into my lap, I appreciate that. I still have no clue what the fuck I’m doing, but my lack of knowledge isn’t Riverlynn’s fault. I gotta figure this shit out.”
“You will, and I don’t know much about parenting, either, but I’ll help as much as I can.”
Neither of us spoke for a minute, and I could feel his eyes on me as I moved around the kitchen.
“What’s your story?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“My story? I suppose it would be good if you knew a little more about me, huh?”
“I’m a little late, but yeah.”
I sighed because I didn’t know where to begin.
“Well, the fact that I was working at the Greasy Spoon should let you know how little I had going for me.”
“Wait. Is that what that place is called?”
“Yeah. Real creative, huh?” We shared a laugh before I continued. “I could have probably worked at better restaurants, but it’s not far from my house. There is usually a nice flow of customers, but it’s never too overwhelming, and they are a lot nicer than my boss, so it wasn’t too bad.”
“Your old boss, unless you didn’t quit.”
“I quit a few days ago. Anyway, my parents died in a house fire when I was fifteen, and—”
“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you. It still fucks with me, but it’s been fifteen years, so I don’t get as emotional when I talk about it.
One of our extension cords was bad and was plugged into a power strip with too many other things.
The only reason I didn’t die with them was because I’d spent the night with one of my friends.
I lived with my maternal grandparents from then until they died a little over a year ago, a few months apart. ”
“Damn,” he repeated. “You’ve suffered a lot of loss.”
I shrugged. “I have, but it is what it is. I got a small settlement from the fire, and because my grandparents were on a fixed income, a portion of it was paid to them monthly to help cover my expenses. When I turned twenty-one, I got whatever was left. I didn’t touch it until I became my grandparents’ caregiver and couldn’t work. ”
“I take it you’re an only child.”
“Yeah. When my dad died, I lost touch with his sister and her kids. My mother’s brother was estranged from the family for most of my life, and the last time I saw or spoke to him was at my grandparents’ funerals.
I have one best friend who I met when I started high school, and she’s been a blessing. ”
“I’m glad you have her.”
“Me too. You should know, after my parents died, I suffered from bouts of depression that sometimes lasted months. My grandparents had no idea how to handle it, but my school counselor connected me with a therapist.”
“Did it help?” he asked.
“It did, and it still does. I went for over ten years, uninterrupted, and it saved my life, along with my meds. When my grandparents passed, especially because their deaths were so close together, my therapist and best friend were prepared for me to fade into darkness. Thankfully, over the years, I’ve learned how to feel my grief without letting it overwhelm me.
I can sit in it without getting lost in it.
There are specific things I do every day that help me cope.
I try to be very intentional about my mental health, and most of the time, I’m successful.
I get sad sometimes, but it’s not crippling, and it doesn’t last long.
I see my therapist once a month now, and I’m on a low dosage of meds. ”
“I wasn’t expecting to hear all that, but thank you for sharing and trusting me with something so personal.”
“I moved into your house, and I’m taking care of your daughter. It’s only right that I share.”
“How does your man feel about you taking this job and living with me?”
His question took me by surprise, and I didn’t know how to answer it.
Jeremiah and I were on-again, off-again.
As much as I needed to remove him from my life permanently, he always seemed to creep his way back in.
We’d broken up and gotten back together more times than I could count, but the last time was the last time. I was over that nigga.
“Is that your way of asking if I have a man?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m not sure why it matters, but I don’t have a man.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“When I said I’m intentional about my mental health and successful most of the time .
. . Well, my on-again, off-again relationship with my ex is where I failed and probably the main reason I’m still in therapy.
We broke up a few months ago, and this is the longest one of our breakups has lasted.
I think I finally got him out of my system, and I refuse to let him weasel his way back into my life. ”
“Interesting. What are the reasons for the breakups, and why do you keep taking him back?”
“There are plenty of reasons but mostly cheating. I’ve never been able to prove it, so when he comes groveling, I take him back.
It’s a vicious cycle, I know, but sometimes I think taking him back is easier than starting over with another man who’ll probably end up doing the same thing.
That’s honestly what most of my therapy sessions are about. ”
“You have no faith in the male species, huh?”
“Not really.”
“Well, I guess I can say I feel the same about women. My high school girlfriend was the only woman I’d ever taken seriously, and I say woman because she was three years older than me.
We dated the summer before my senior year.
I was in love with her ass, and I thought I was the shit because I had a girl in college, but she played the fuck outta me. ”
“Wow! Tell me more,” I urged.
“You sound a little too excited about this, but there’s not much to tell. She just wasn’t who I thought she was.”
“Oh, damn. That sucks.”
“Yeah, and ever since then, I’ve been running through women like a world-class hurdler.”
“Well, at least you’re honest, and that definitely explains why you don’t know who Riverlynn’s mother is.”
“That’s exactly why. I feel kinda fucked up about it too.”
“You should,” I said, matter-of-factly.
His brows narrowed at my response, but it was the truth.
“You could’ve kept that comment to yourself.”
“I could have, but then who would tell you the truth? When a woman doesn’t know the father of her child, she is called every derogatory name under the sun. Not knowing who you impregnated is just as bad as not knowing who impregnated you.”
He probably didn’t like hearing what I’d said, but it needed to be said.
“Is the food done?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah. I’ll take her while you eat.”
I reached for Riverlynn, and he stopped me.
“I’ll put her in that bouncer thing you bought, and we can eat together.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll make our plates.”
He went to the family room to get Riverlynn’s bouncer while I plated our food.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him struggling with something that seemed so simple, but I let him figure it out.
When he returned to the kitchen with her in the bouncer, he placed it on the large table and went to the fridge.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked.
“Water is fine.”