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His voice had dropped significantly, but he looked serious as he spoke.
“No, he's not, Eli. Don't listen to him,” I said.
Dad stepped out the door, and I slammed it in his face. I turned to my stepbrother, resting my back against the door. My heart ached for him. He looked down at the bundle in his arms, and there were tears in his eyes. Actual tears. I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen him cry. Maybe at his mother's funeral. Maybe?
“Eli,” I said, pushing myself away from the door and walking over to him.
I stroked his cheek gently, wiping the tear away, but he stepped back, putting as much distance between us as possible.
“Don't pity me, Hannah. I fucked up, it's not fair that Aubree has to pay the price for it,” he said. With a deep sigh, he added, “I have to find Shawna.”
“No, no you don't,” I said. “She's on drugs. Do you really want Aubree to see her mother like that? To grow up in that kind of environment? Of all people, Eli, I'd think you'd understand why that's a bad idea.”
He cringed. “I can't do anything on my own,” he said. “I can't even hand her over to the state without her mother's permission.”
He was right there, but I still didn't want to believe that was the only option. I still didn't want to imagine Aubree in a foster home or lost somewhere in the system. She was Eli's daughter, which meant she was family to me, and I was attached to her already. God help me, less than a day in, and I already loved that little girl in ways I didn't even know were possible.
“Then you're going to keep her, Eli,” I said. “You're going to raise her, and I'm going to help you.”
“You?” Eli scoffed. “And why would you do anything to help me?”
I wanted to say – because we weren't always enemies. Once upon a time, we'd cared for each other, deeper than we should have – and part of me still cared for him.
Instead of telling him the truth though, I settled for a half-truth. “Because I already love that little girl, and I want to do what's best for her.”
“And you think I'm what's best for her?” he asked, his voice coming out angry. “Shows how fucked up this whole situation really is.”
“Yes, I do, Eli. I think her father is what's best for her,” I said, standing my ground.
We were both quiet as Aubree fussed, her cries echoing through the room, a shrill sound that hurt my ears and broke my heart. I walked toward Eli and took the child into my arms, calming her down and soothing her. I caught a whiff of something and laughed even though it wasn't really a time for joking around.
“What's so funny?” he muttered.
“You're going to have your first daddy lesson. Right now,” I said, grabbing a diaper from the diaper bag, tossing it to him.
“Oh, hell no,” he said. “Please, Hannah, could you –”
“Nope, it's all you, dude,” I said, laying the baby down on the floor carefully. “I'm going to teach you, but you're going to be the one doing it.”
He looked absolutely disgusted by the idea. Poor guy, but he had to learn some time, and as they said, there's no time like the present.
“Why would you do this to me?” he asked.
“Because, let's face it, I love torturing you,” I teased, sticking my tongue out at him.
Chapter Three
Elijah
I set up the crib in the living room, taking Hannah up on the offer of crashing on the couch so I didn't have to do this parenting gig alone. It was just a portable bassinet, nothing fancy, but it would do for the night. There was so much we didn't have for little Aubree and my mind was spinning just thinking about it all. We had enough diapers and formula to last until tomorrow, but then what?
I barely made enough money to pay my rent and my own bills, but now I'd have to factor bottles, diapers and a hell of a lot more into the equation? I had no idea how in the hell I was going to manage it.
I sat on the couch, just staring at the sleeping child in the bassinet, my head hurting from everything that was piling on top of me. Hannah had stepped away to shower and get ready for bed, leaving me alone with my daughter. Yes, if Shawna was telling me the truth, I had a daughter. Looking at Aubree, I could see a resemblance, somewhat, but it was so hard to tell with babies sometimes. Yet, somewhere deep inside of me, I knew she was mine. I could just somehow feel it.
“Still feeling shell-shocked, huh?”
Hannah's voice piped up from her bedroom door. She stood there, drying her hair off with a towel. She was wearing a silky purple robe that hung down a little low in front and barely reached her knees. She was my stepsister – I shouldn't stare at the cleavage poking out the top, but I couldn't help it. Hannah always had a nice rack. Seeing them naked was a real treat, and I knew that from personal experience.
