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I clamp my mouth shut.
Chazarae sighs. “Okay. Well, we have guests,” she says, “and I don’t want to keep them waiting.” She points to Natalie’s car. “Maybe you shouldn’t keep yours waiting either.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I murmur, gripping the board tighter and turning away from her. She grasps my arm just as I’m about to step foot off the porch. I turn back around in time to see her closing the door behind her.
“I think it might be best if you don’t bother Becca anymore, Josh. Tommy’s always welcome here, but for now, while Becca is living in my house, I have to make her my priority, and I’m sorry. I really am. But Becca—she’s been through enough already, okay?”
I clear my throat, and let my shame and my self-loathing consume me. “Yes, ma’am.”
Instead of returning to my apartment, I go back to my truck and pull out my every day board, then I skate out of the driveway and through the darkness of the streets until the chill of the wind makes my face numb and my muscles ache and I know it’s late enough that Tommy will be down and hopefully Natalie will be asleep.
She isn’t, though.
She’s sitting on the couch, a beer in her hand, staring down at her phone.
“I’ve been calling you,” she says, before I’ve even closed the door.
I pull out my phone and see the thirteen missed calls from her.
“Where have you been?”
I hide my eye roll and walk to the fridge where I pull out a beer of my own. “Nowhere.”
“Did you see that Becca girl? Are you guys, like, sleeping together?”
I lean against the fridge, my eyes on her. “What are you still doing here, Natalie? Why haven’t you left yet?”
She sets her beer on the coffee table in front of her and gets up; her gaze lowered as she makes her way to the kitchen. “I told you,” she says, still looking down at the floor. “I wanted to get to know my son.”
“And you can’t do that from your house?”
“I didn’t know I was such a burden. You’ve never mentioned anything before.” She looks up at me now—her insecurities and her doubts showing. “I don’t want to leave but if you make me I can’t stop it. I like being here, Josh. I like being with Tommy and I like being with you.”
“You’re three years late, Nat.” I sigh. “I’m taking back my bed. And don’t ever breathe Becca’s name again.”
24
-Joshua-
Christmas morning looks like Toys R Us vomited in the living room. To say that Natalie went overboard would be an understatement. I have no idea where she plans to put all this stuff because it sure as shit won’t fit neatly in my tiny apartment. Hopefully she’ll find her own place soon and she can take all of her shit with her.
I’m too busy picking up wrapping paper from every surface possible so Natalie beats me to opening the door only seconds after the knock sounds. “Hi Becca,” Natalie says, and I drop everything in my hands and bolt for the door. She nods at Nat and then takes a step back when I come into view. Tommy yells Becca’s name and for some reason this makes her cringe. She hands Natalie a box and points to the name on it: Captain LoonySpoon.
“Who the hell is Captain LoonySpoon?” Nat asks. I push her out of the way and close the door between us. Becca’s already two steps down the stairs when I grab her arm. “Becca, wait!” She stops in her tracks and slowly faces me.
Inside, Tommy’s crying, screaming Becca’s name.
“You can give him your present yourself, Becca.” I try to settle my nerves. “You’re allowed to see him. I’m sorry if I made you feel like—”
She shakes her head, cutting me off. Then grimaces as Tommy’s cry for her gets louder. She looks from the door to me, and then points to her arm.
“His arm is fine. It’s healing well. I told him the cast gives him super powers.”
Her throat bobs with her swallow and she nods. She starts to turn away but the front door opens and Tommy’s in Natalie’s arms, crying Becca’s name again. “I can’t control him,” Natalie snaps. She places Tommy on the ground and Becca gasps as soon he starts down the stairs to get to her. She lifts her hand, her palm up and he stops instantly. Slowly, she looks between all three of us standing on the landing and I wonder what the hell she could possibly be thinking.
She probably thinks we’re some happy family.
We’re not.
She was.
Her and Tommy and I—we were.
She climbs the steps until she’s one down from him and bends down so they’re eye to eye. She runs her fingers across his cast, her eyes filling with tears. And then she reaches out, her arms around him, her hug so fierce and so full of love that my chest tightens, the pain so overwhelming it forces a sob out of me—because, fuck, how can everything feel so right and be so fucking wrong?
Tommy pulls back slightly, his eyes on hers and his hands on her cheeks, wiping her tears. She doesn’t flinch—not for him.
“You have a booboo?” he asks her and she nods.
“Where?”
She chokes back on her own sob, her eyes only for him. Then she points to her chest.
Tommy frowns and kisses the spot on her chest she just pointed to. “Daddy say kisses make all booboos better,” he tells her.
I hold my breath.
She smiles sadly and taps her nose followed by her chest. He nods and throws his arms around her neck, squeezing tight. “I love you, too, Becca.”
