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My body gives a slight involuntary shiver at the scores of “gentlemen callers” she has coming and going from her large home. The woman may be in her seventies but she’s certainly living life to the fullest. At least one of us is. Besides, all the essentials are unpacked. There are a few boxes in the corners, but I’ll have those sorted out soon enough.
“You’ve already put up with us long enough, Gloria. Besides, I think it’s time for Oliver and me to start getting into a real routine. I’ve got work in the morning and he has daycare. Are you still okay to pick him up there at one?” It’s a Saturday tomorrow and even though I have to work, I don’t want to just leave him with Gloria. It’s nothing against her, she’s great with him and I trust her completely. I just think he needs to spend some time with kids his own age. Learn how to socialize. The counselor at his school said that was important.
“Of course, I’m happy to spend more alone time with my darling nephew.” She bends down and pinches his cheek gently like I’ve always heard older women do but never got to experience myself. While I was growing up in Los Angeles, Aunt Gloria always lived up here in Seattle. She was a bit of a party girl and jet setter in her youth, so she was always traveling the world, off to one exotic location after another. Besides that, she and my mom had never been very close. That meant I only ever saw her on the odd holiday here and there. “Maybe we’ll grab an ice-cream on the way home, would you like that?” she asks him. That brings a brief smile to Oliver’s face before it quickly fades back into his mask of neutrality.
I want to tell her not to spoil his dinner but one serving of ice cream can’t hurt. I’ll just have to make something healthy for dinner to make up for it. I really do need to get to the grocery store. Plus, any reaction I get out of him is a good thing and I don’t want to temper even that briefest of smiles.
When we first got here and he gave Gloria about the same amount of attention he gave me, I hate to say it, but I was relieved. I thought maybe he hated me and that’s why he always seemed sad and never wanted to talk to me. Once he started school two weeks ago, his teacher began reporting the same thing. He seems bright, he does his work, but he’s quiet and withdrawn. I need to do something about it but I’m not sure what. His teacher suggested a therapist not far from the school and I’m starting to think I should call her.
As Gloria gets ready to leave, she gives me a hug first which I return wholeheartedly. I haven’t had much use for physical affection over the past few years and getting this from Gloria has been like getting a little piece of my mom back, at least how she was before Dad died.
She moves over to Oliver and bends down giving him a squeeze and a pat on the head. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, young man. Be good for your Uncle Carson.”
“Bye.” Oliver shyly looks up from beneath his lashes and gives her a ghost of a smile which in turn makes me grin. Who would have thought that I would get so happy from a single word being spoken by a five-year-old? But any time he gifts us with even the smallest communication I see it as a win.
With Gloria gone it’s just the two of us and we stand around the freshly unpacked den, awkwardly looking at each other. This isn’t the first time we’ve been alone. In fact, we were alone quite a bit once I picked him up and brought him home to Los Angeles with me. We had three months of staring awkwardly at each other in my cramped apartment. But back then there were always a hundred things to do to keep me busy. There were court dates to make sure all the custody arrangements were worked out, court ordered parenting classes, and a never-ending supply of things I needed to buy to make sure he was happy and healthy. I can’t tell you how many parenting books I read in those firstfew months. I was constantly feeling overwhelmed and like I was hanging on by a thread.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be a parent, it was just that I had never really thought about it. I was so focused on my sister and then my job that having kids just wasn’t on my radar. I mean, you’d have to at least be dating someone to start thinking about having a family, right? I hate to say that even before Oliver came along, my social life had been severely lacking. That became glaringly obvious once I realized I didn’t have any friends who could come over and watch him for even thirty minutes while I ran to the store. Of course, I had a couple buddies on the force, but I wouldn’t trust them to take care of my goldfish let alone my nephew. I found myself googling things like “can a five-year-old stay at home alone while I go for a run?” In case you’re curious, the answer is a resoundingno.
Thank God for the teenage girl down the hall that would watch him from time to time. However, at this point I’m pretty sure I’ve paid her enough to fund her own tech start up.
The lack of support was one of the big reasons I decided to move up to Seattle when Gloria offered to lend us a hand. Well, that and the fact that I was involved in an ugly drug case that went wrong and cost someone their life. That was the final sign I needed that it was time to move on to a different city. I could get a little help from family and the job here was less dangerous which was important now that I had someone depending on me. Of course, Seattle isn’t some crime free mecca but it’s a hell of a lot safer getting my detective shield here than it is working gangs and narcotics in Los Angeles.
“So…” God, why did I open my mouth when I didn’t know where it was going? It’s just with the mostly quiet kid, I sometimes find myself trying to fill the void with chatter. “I set up most of your room. There are a few boxes left but we can unpack the rest tomorrow when I get home from work.” Thatgets me a shrug. I don’t really blame him, unpacking doesn’t sound very exciting to me either. “How about I order us some dinner and we can watch cartoons until it gets here?”
He just gives me a shrug and climbs up onto the couch. I pick up my phone to place an order with the healthiest restaurant I can find while he starts fiddling with the remote.
I’m reminded again just how much I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. Sometimes I get so angry at my sister. Angry that she never told me he existed. Angry that she let her life spiral out of control and left me and this little boy all alone in the world. No, I never expected Oliver, but I love him just the same. He’s the one good thing in my life and I’ll do everything I can to make sure he’s a happy and healthy little boy. I know that I’m going to have to let go of my anger and resentment for Oliver’s sake but it’s something I’m still working on.
After we eat and I finally get Oliver to bed and asleep, I head to my own room to get ready for bed. The muscles in my back and neck are sore for moving boxes and furniture all day and a nice warm shower is just what I need.
Before heading to the restroom, I pause for a second at the window and lift the blinds so I can take a peek at the house next door. Not in a creepy way, I just want to see if I can see her… through her window. Okay, that sounds super fucking creepy.
Most of the curtains on the windows are drawn and the lights are off. I don’t spot either her or the black hair girl that was in the window earlier. I gently put the blinds back down and go about getting ready for sleep.
Once I’m finally in bed I do nothing but toss and turn. My thoughts are a mixture of worry over Oliver and thinking about the curvy spitfire next door. I have an uncomfortable half chub that doesn’t seem to be lessening and I’m again annoyed at myself for my body’s instantaneous reaction to her. The interaction we had wasn’t even a good one. The memory of hershouldn’t be turning me on so much. After a few hours I give up resisting and take matters into my own hands… so to speak.
I feel like a perv, jerking off to the girl that lives next door. Hell, I don’t even know her name. She’s firmly in my mind as Sparky at this point, being the little live wire that she is. At least I’m finally able to release some pressure.
Just as I’m drifting off to sleep, the annoying rumble of a heavy-duty engine enters my consciousness. I curse and cover my head with my pillow but it’s no use, the rumble persists. I lay here waiting for the car to either drive away or turn off the ignition, but neither of those things happen. After five minutes of waiting it’s pretty clear the driver isn’t leaving any time soon.
I drag my ass out of bed and go peak out the front window. There, in front of my house, is a man sitting in a large, lifted truck and from what I can tell, he’s staring pretty intently at Sparky’s house.
What the hell kind of neighborhood did I move in to?
I grab my badge from the table next to the door and don’t even bother changing out of my pajamas before I storm outside. I knock on the window and startle the individual in the cab. He looks about a decade older than me and there’s something slightly familiar about him. He also looks like he’s about to tell me to fuck off so before he can say anything I knock on his window again, this time with my badge tapping the glass.
This seems to get him in line pretty quickly. He rolls down the window and asks, “Can I help you with anything, officer?”
“It’s detective. And yes, you can. You can tell me what you’re doing out here, sitting in your truck at midnight, staring at my neighbor’s house.”
His face reddens like he’s embarrassed to be caught. That doesn’t make me feel any better about him being here. “Actually Detective, I own that house. My daughter lives there with herfriends. I just wanted to check and make sure she got home alright.”
Now I realize why he looks so familiar. This must be Sparky’s father. He looks just like her, the same coloring, the same hair color, hell the same nose. It still seems like a pretty thin excuse for sitting out here in the middle of the night though. “Can I see some ID, sir?”
He nervously pulls the card from his wallet and hands it over to me. Dante Moreno. It looks like his address is only be a few blocks away which could explain why he decided to just stop by. Maybe. “Haven’t you ever heard of a phone?” I ask.
“I know Detective, I’m sorry. It’s just that Vi—Bianca, wasn’t answering her phone and I was worried.”
