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“I've thought of about a hundred, but every morning I wake up and I've changed my mind.”
“Does Brody have any favorites?”
Mags grins, her cheeks flushing. “He goes along with whatever my idea of the day is. If he has a special favorite he hasn't told me what it is yet.”
“He's such a good dad.”
“Yeah,” Mags says, agreeing, smiling wider. “Even if he doesn't have the first clue how to change a diaper.”
Mags tells me cute stories about Brody the rest of the way to her place. She teases, but it's easy to see how much she loves him. When we get there, I drive up as close to the front porch as I can and hand her the bag with the belly butter.
“I love you!” I shout through the windshield as she makes her way up the stairs, holding the railing for balance. Mags blows me a kiss. I wait until she's inside, then drive to my place.
For the longest time it was just us. Time has changed that and it’s harder for me to share with her what’s happening in my life when hers is finally going right. I know she’d want me to lean on her, but I just can’t. One of us deserves happiness.
It’s not long before I’m at my apartment, thoughts and memories running through my head. My place is small and cozy and lived in, with wood floors and a large paned window in the living room. This is my little escape from the world and as soon as I'm through the front door I let out a heavy breath, toss my keys on the skinny foyer table, and flick on the light.
Then I hang up my coat and my purse and put my tips from last night into a five-gallon jug I keep by the door. It's filling up little by little, and when it's full…well it feels like if only I can do that, I can take care of other things.
As I pull my hair to the side, absently braiding it to keep the strands out of my face before sagging into my safe area, my phone buzzes.
It's a text from my mom.
My blood goes cold as I read it: I'm at your aunt's house right now.
All the little buzzing happy feelings I had from taking Mags to the baby store disappear in an instant. I can't respond to the text. I can't even think about it.
I drop my phone on the side table and rub my hands over my face, trying to keep down the emotions, then turn back to look at my personal tip jar. It won't be long, if I keep saving. It's going to keep adding up, and one day I'll have enough money not to worry. I don't need to be rich. I just need to be okay.
“I am okay,” I tell myself out loud, even as tears sting my eyes. I repeat it in my head until I believe it. I am okay. I have a good job and a nice place and everything I need to get back on track. I'm more than okay. And she’s okay for now.
One deep breath and I'm headed for a long, hot shower. I try not to think of all the times this has happened before, and instead I focus on work. Where time goes by; I can take care of everything and everyone; the world is right; Griffin gives me those looks; and no one knows anything about what’s really happening in my life.
Griffin
A few days have passed since my mom was here but with how much she texts me you’d think it’s been months. I shake my head, smirking at her message and tell her I have to go; I'm working at the bar. She means well but I really do have to work, and she keeps asking me about Renee.
Fuck. I love my mom but this thing with me and Renee feels delicate, and I just don’t want anyone making it more…I don’t even know.
I stop thinking about it and go back to work instead, glancing up at the clock knowing her shift isn’t for a little while giving me something to look forward to.
I take my time, wiping down the bottles and keeping everything pristine behind the bar—I'm at the bar for most shifts, usually, so it's business as usual. The front doors open and Robert Barnes, newly elected city manager and previous pain in my ass turned friend, walks in.
He pulls off a navy-blue hat and sticks it in his coat pocket, then shrugs off the coat, huffing and puffing the cold air away.
“Hello, Mr. City Manager, good afternoon,” I call to him, smirking and taking a note of how much older he looks with his suit on. He’s around my age and an all right guy, once I got to know him. I’ve been getting to know him recently, especially late at night when the town talks about what happened with his parents.
Robert laughs a loud, deep belly laugh that fills up the whole bar. “No need to be so formal, Griff. How are you?”
“Good. How are you? Stressed out from keeping the town on the straight and narrow?” I keep it easy with him and grab an empty glass, thinking he’s going to want his usual.
“Yeah.” Robert hangs his coat on the back of a bar stool and slides onto it, exhaling deeply. “It's always a near thing in places like this. All kinds of shenanigans going on. The tree lighting ceremony has to be moved up half an hour because of the middle school band concert. Can you believe it?”
“I can't.” I hold up the glass and he nods. “That's a hell of a conundrum,” I joke as if I would have any idea, and I fill his drink up to the rim.
He laughs again and accepts his drink. “I gathered up our best and brightest and figured it out. We can't have anybody missing their kid's first trombone solo.”
I think back to the few band concerts I attended when I was in middle school and make a face, which gets another laugh out of Robert. “I’d be all right if never reminded of my short stint in band.”
