Giving It Up (20 page)

His arms tightened. Seemed no one was much for sleep in this household.

“You’ll feel better in the morning,” I said.

“Feel good now.” His voice was muffled in my hair.

“That was a lie anyway,” I said. “You’ll feel worse in the morning, but you still have to sleep.”

I pulled back, and this time he let me go. Leading him by the hand, we went upstairs. I pushed him into the bathroom and shut the door, then listened until I heard the water running before changing into a nightshirt.

Ten minutes passed, and I debated knocking when he opened the door. Completely naked.

Though—and I double-checked—not aroused. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him that way, except for right after sex. And even then it was more of a half-mast situation. It was oddly deflating to my ego, even though I knew it was most likely whiskey dick.

“Well,” I said.

But it wasn’t the time for talking or for turning off the bathroom light, because he grabbed my hand as he walked by me, dragged me into bed with him, and wrapped his arms and legs around me like a Colin-shaped straitjacket.

Okay. I guess I was going to sleep.

“Good night,” I said.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbled. Then nothing.

No, he didn’t want to. I was the one doing any hurting here, even if the one in pain was me.

I hadn’t told him about Jacob, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so. I should just let it go, I knew. I had been given a free pass by Jacob not to tell Colin, and that should be good enough.

In fact, his arms, which had once been snug, now felt stifling. A literal weight of guilt.

Even if I were to tell him, I should wait until morning when he was awake. In fact, I should wait until tomorrow afternoon when his hangover had passed, but I had a feeling that if I didn’t tell him now, I never would. I’d ruined many good things in my youth and stupidity—often one and the same—but I desperately wanted to make this work.

“Colin.” I nudged him.

A quiet snore emerged. Silly man.

I pushed harder. “Colin!”

“What’s it?” he mumbled, without opening his eyes.

“I have good news,” I said. That was preframing, something I’d learned in one of the books from the library about parenting toddlers.

No response.

“I talked to Jacob,” I whispered, “and he’s going to sign the papers.”

“No,” he said, startlingly clear. “It’s a trap.”

And then as far as I could tell, he slept on. It took me a long time to fall asleep after that.

When I woke up, a note was on Colin’s pillow. In bold, block letters:
Call me.

So he was as terse in writing as he was in speech. He’d never left this early, but if he’d received a call, I had a suspicion I knew what it was about. I dialed his cell number—he answered on the first ring.

“Good news,” he said.

Shit. He didn’t remember my confession from the night before. What to do? I opened my mouth to interrupt, to tell him the truth.

“Jacob’s taken care of,” he said. “I’m with Laramie now.”

The words caught in my throat. Over the phone and with Colin sitting in his brother’s house most likely, was not the time or place to tell him, but I had to say
something
. I pushed past the panic lodged in my throat. “Oh,” I said, my voice hoarse. “That’s good.”

A short pause. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice breaking on my agreement.

“I’ll be home soon. We’ll celebrate.” He hung up.

Oh God, he was so horribly perfect. All concerned for my state of mind and trying to reassure me. Dealing with my shit, and for what? I couldn’t even have sex right. I would’ve thought two years was enough time to heal, but it was abundantly clear that I wasn’t okay. I was as messed up as ever, and worse, it was infecting Colin.

If he were just a little less wonderful, then my brokenness wouldn’t seem so bad. As it was, we fit together like a diamond in the gutter. On the outside we were well matched, but on the inside he was slumming with me. What would happen when he realized it? I’d be alone again, and Bailey would be back in that shit-poor apartment. At least the problem with Jacob had been resolved, I was thankful for that, but I didn’t want to go back to the way things were.

I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t.

I’d glimpsed happiness here. I might not deserve it, but Bailey did.

No, I wouldn’t even put this on her. I wanted this for myself. Living all ghetto had one major benefit—it had molded me this way. Ruthless.

From somewhere deep inside I dredged up the will to fight. A low-down, dirty street fight between me and, well, the other me. The stupid one who lied and fucked and hurt but had no business in Colin’s life. Her death was a worthy sacrifice so that Bailey and Colin and I could be a family.

And when Colin came home, offering a bouquet of daisies, I accepted them as my right. I thanked him as was appropriate. And I kissed him as I really wanted to—hard and deep.

It almost felt real. Maybe it was.

I felt fidgety, bursty, like I might explode but laugh right on through it. Was this happiness?

I wanted to jump Colin, though that feeling wasn’t new. But I didn’t want him to hurt me. I didn’t want him to hold me down or berate me. I wanted him to touch me, hold me,
love
me. I wanted to hear his voice again telling me everything would be okay. And, because happiness made me horny, I wanted his tongue on my clit.
Pretty, pretty please.

But life intruded. I had Bailey, and that meant no midday sex romps.

“Let’s go out,” Colin murmured.

“Okay.” Think, think. Where did people go? None of our usual haunts—the library, the city park, the local playground—seemed adequate for this day when Colin would spend the day with us. A day of celebration.

And then it came to me—the zoo! We’d gone there once, but it had been so crowded and Bailey so young. A family thing, a real outing.

“What do you think of the zoo?” I asked Colin, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice in case he hated it.

“The zoo.” He nodded.

Bailey had been crawling figure eights around our feet, but now she stopped to look up. “Baba?” she asked.

Colin knelt down where he stood. Bailey pulled herself up by his knee to a stand.

“Want to go to the zoo?” he asked her.

She tapped his knee.

“She probably doesn’t know what that means,” I said.

“Giraffes,” he said. “Elephants.”

“Elphhhhhh,” Bailey said, spraying baby drool into his face.

“Oh!” I grabbed a nearby cloth and wiped him dry. “I’m sorry. I think she’s getting a tooth.”

He looked alarmed.

“Makes her drooly,” I said. “Plus the ‘phhh’ sound.”

“Ah,” he said. He didn’t sound too upset about the baby bath, for which I was thankful.

“Would it be at all possible for you to hang out with her while I get ready?”

At Colin’s nod, I hurried into the kitchen. Packing her bag for a long outing like this would take a while. I needed food and drinks and diapers and wipes and a change of clothes. Oh, and the camera. Crap, was it charged? Had I even unpacked it?

On a whim, I raced up the stairs to get Bailey’s animal flash cards. I handed them to Colin and said, out of breath, “You could show her these if you want.”

Then I was gone, loading the stroller and diaper bag into the car. And I was done. Bravo to me. Already feeling worn-out, I found Colin and Bailey on the living room floor where I’d left them.

“Phant,” Colin said. “El-e-
phant
.”

“Phhhhhhhhh,” Bailey said. Prepared this time, Colin blocked her easily with a cloth to catch the spray. She giggled.

“Phhhant,” he said.

“Phhhhhooey,” she said, then broke into peals of laughter when he wiped his hand.

“She’s playing you,” I said from the doorway.

He glanced back at me and winked. “I’m a sucker for that laugh.”

Ah, shit.

Stick a fork in me, I was done. Completely, positively, irrevocably in love with him. That too-f feeling closed in on my heart, and my eyes pricked. I turned to face the coat closet just to catch my breath. Oh God, I wanted to keep him.

Bundled and packed, we set off on our zoo adventure. Or as Bailey called it, the “phoooo” with a sprayed exclamation point. I would not be sad when she learned a new sound.

The Lincoln Park Zoo was packed with families. Today was one of the first days of the year that we could spend time outdoors without freezing our fingers off. We wandered over to the lions—“Kitty!”—and then to the seal enclosure. The seals did tricks: clapping, diving, and barking, but there were too many people lined up against the railing to see.

“Up,” Bailey demanded, tugging on a lock of my hair.

“No.” I shook my head.

Colin looked at me in question.

“She wants to sit on my shoulders,” I explained. “I tried that only once. It was the Fourth of July, and she was wrapped around me like a cobra”—I mimed a choking motion with my free hand—“and then a BOOM went off”—I mimicked the struggle—“and, well, never again.”

“I can try,” he said.

I looked at him dubiously. Not that the guy wasn’t tough, but he’d never seen her go full turbo. As if sensing her impending triumph, Bailey wriggled furiously.

“Fine.” I handed her over with a sigh.

He lifted her and—BAM!—tiny elbow to the eye.

“I’m sorry,” I said, though I couldn’t sound too sorry. I
had
warned him.

“She does have an arm on her,” he said but managed to wrangle her onto his shoulders.

Bailey squealed in what I guessed was both excitement and fear of her new height. Her legs crossed tightly around his neck, and her arms wrapped around his forehead, leaving only a slit for his eyes.

I bit my lip to avoid laughing. “Having fun yet?”

“I’m okay,” he wheezed.

He wasn’t the only one. Around us a sea of men held children on their shoulders or in their arms. Fathers, one could assume. Though in our case they’d be wrong. How many of these men were the biological fathers of these children, and how many were just father figures? Because that’s what Colin was to Bailey, a father figure, even if it had only been for a short time.

This was a side of men that had been unfathomable during my monthly date nights at the club. How many of these men had once been, or even now were, the guys at the club? How many of them were like Jacob, with a horrible mistake in their past? For that matter, did Colin have a mistake like that in his?

There was nothing for it but to wonder. The smiling faces and caring gestures painted only happy portraits. I wanted to believe in it. Here, amid the laughter and shouts of children, I almost could.

Before the show was over, Bailey grew fidgety, and we wandered over to the children’s section. She let out a shriek. I followed her reaching hands to the carousel.

With a groan, I wondered how I could get out of this without a screaming fit. Even if I let her have a ride, she’d only want to go again and again.

It turned out that Colin had the answer to that. When he left to go get tickets, I figured he’d get two, one for me and one for her. He came back with twenty.

“What are we going to do with twenty tickets? That’s ten rides.”

He shrugged. “If she doesn’t want to, we can save some for later.”

Of course she wanted to. By the third ride I was ready to throw up, so Colin offered to take her. While I had firmly insisted she pick an animal to ride and stick with it, Colin helped her bounce from horse to zebra to otter in the minutes before the ride started. She chattered endlessly to him while he danced attendance.

Good Lord, was that how he and I looked together? For all his trouble, that man needed to get laid way more often.

They went round and round and round, until both Colin and Bailey had turned a sickly green. Turns out when you gave her exactly what she wanted, she didn’t want it anymore. She was her mother’s daughter.

Two hours and a detour through the petting zoo later, it was past time to leave. Despite the brisk air, the smell of sweat and tiredness trailed us. Bailey was coated with sticky residue from a slush drink and peppered with salt from a soft pretzel. I might as well have tried to scrub off the city’s graffiti for all the good the baby wipes did.

Bailey cried all the way to the car. Actually the parking lot was filled with screaming children. There was probably no better torture device invented for children than a superfun outing. No matter what, it always ended in tears.

At home I gave her a rushed dinner and warm bath. And the very good, somewhat unexpected benefit to the whole excursion was that she fell asleep almost immediately. I was still gross and exhausted, but it was freeing, nonetheless, to have her down so early.

I found Colin in his bedroom. “You hungry?”

“A little bit,” he said. “Come here.”

He drew me to him and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. I pulled back and made a face. “I’m gross.”

He pulled me back and kissed me harder. Well, okay, if he wanted me this way, he’d have me. I wouldn’t say no. I’d learned long ago what a mistake that was.

“Shower?” he asked.

“Um,” I said. “You or me?”

His lips curved into a smile against mine. “Both.”

Oh. Of course. Not that I had ever done that before, but even I knew that’s what lovers did. I suppose it was because I’d never had a lover before, not really. Jacob had been my first, and then the date nights had been about the opposite of cleanliness. I knew Shelly would laugh at me now and call me innocent, and maybe she’d be right, but I wanted to learn. I wanted to experience everything with Colin.

“Come on, then,” I replied, donning my slut persona. She’d know what to do.

He cocked his head as if I puzzled him.

Time to distract him. I pulled off my shirt with a small flourish. Then my jeans with a shimmy, until I stood in only my bra and panties. It worked—he came at me.

“Uh-uh.” I stopped him. “I thought we were going to shower.”

He reined himself in with a small shudder.