“Hey, welcome home.” She grinned and set her tablet down to give me her full attention. It took every ounce of energy I had left—and it wasn’t much—to keep myself from crawling onto the couch and laying my head in her lap, so she could run her fingers through my hair.
“Hey, neighbor.” I kicked off my shoes and threw down my backpack.
"How was your day?" She had walked into the kitchen. "I'm not sure if you ate, but we have leftovers. I could warm them up before I go."
“Leftovers?”
“Yeah, I made roasted chicken and vegetables.”
“CJ ate that?”
"Yeah." She nodded. "The carrots were a big hit."
“Is he supposed to be eating that?”
"What do you mean?" Her tone became serious, and it made me nervous.
"Nothing, I mean, I've been giving him this age-appropriate baby food that’s supposed to be less of a choking hazard, more suited to his digestive system…" I trailed off at her expression. She'd crossed her arms, which was clearly a defensive stance, but she was smiling, which made me nervous.
"Cole, are you suggesting that I would feed CJ something dangerous, or that would make him sick?"
"No, not intentionally," I said. Lisa's eyebrows shot up her forehead before she began walking around the kitchen. "Hey, I only mean…" She pulled something out of the cabinet. "…things are really…" I knew I was rambling and probably wasn't making any sense, but I was too curious about what she was doing. "…I would feel more comfortable if…" I watched her open and close the silverware drawer. "…if this arrangement is going to work…" I heard a pop. "…as CJ's legal guardian I need to be— Argh!"
Lisa had put a spoonful of something in my mouth that tasted like she'd scooped it out of CJ's diaper. I ran to the sink, spit it out and used the sprayer to rinse the rest from my mouth, terrified to swallow any of it.
"What the fuck was that?" I turned to look at her. My face and the front of my suit were soaked. She'd tucked her lips between her teeth, trying to hold back a laugh, and her eyes were sparkling. She held up a small glass jar.
"Age-appropriate carrots," she said before bursting out laughing.
I snatched the jar from her hand. There was an illustration of a baby hugging the planet Earth, and the label definitely said carrots, but they didn't taste like any carrots I'd ever eaten.
"Hungry?" she asked and offered me the spoon. I narrowed my eyes at her and threw the jar of baby food in the garbage. Then I grabbed a folded paper grocery bag from under the sink and grabbed every jar that was left, emptying the cabinet and leaving the bag by the door, so I wouldn't forget to take it to the food pantry in the morning.
“You ready to look at the apartment?” I asked, still annoyed, tasting “carrots,” and having learned my lesson about questioning Lisa’s childrearing methods. She flashed me a smug grin and nodded.
"But first, I have something for you." She pulled a small stack of papers out of CJ's diaper bag. "One of my dad's associates has a friend in New York who drew this up for me—for us. It's boilerplate, but basically, it states the salary we agreed on and terms of employment. I'd like two days off a week; Saturday and Sunday, unless previously agreed upon, four weeks’ paid vacation and two weeks of personal days. You don't have to worry about health benefits." She looked up at me, and when I didn't respond, she said, "It's an employment contract. I just thought it would be the responsible thing to do." She pushed the papers towards me. "Cole?"
“Yeah.” I blinked and refocused. An employment contract. The last flicker of hope I was carrying that Lisa would change her mind about us sputtered and died. “Yeah, sure, of course.” I slid one copy closer, took a pen out of my suit jacket, initialed every page, and signed the last one, while Lisa did the same to the other copy. Then we switched.
“Are you sure you don’t want to read it? Maybe negotiate?”
"Whatever you're asking for, you deserve it."
“Should we have gotten it notarized?” she asked.
“I don't think that's necessary, but we can if you want.”
Lisa shook her head and looked down at the contracts. “Thank you.” She glanced up and gave me a smile that failed to light up her eyes.
“Let’s go look at the apartment.”
lisa
seventeen
"So,you've been working for Cole for a week, and you are still living next door? How bad was the apartment?" Sasha sliced into her steak while waiting for me to respond, hanging on my every word.
“It was perfect, but I can’t live there.”
