Текст книги "Jerk"

Автор книги: Kat T. Masen

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

 

I yearn for peace, silence, and a moment to take it all in. I yearn for life to stop, even if just for a minute, so I can stare at my son’s face and absorb the miracle that is this beautiful baby boy.

From the moment they wheeled me out of recovery and into my room, there was an endless stream of visitors armed with flowers, balloons, and blue, stuffed toys. It was like a nonstop circus. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline running through my veins, the circus would have gone on around a sleeping Presley.

It wasn’t just the visitors, but the nurses as well. They bustled around me, doing their rounds and checking on the baby and me. Haden, being the stubborn jerk he was, refused to leave the room, wanting to make sure everything was okay. But I had to put my foot down during the breastfeeding tutorial. My boobs out for show and a baby that had difficulty latching on due to his size was something I didn’t want Haden seeing. Of course, my wishes weren’t respected; I found out that he went to the nurses’ station to ask questions about my boobs and the nurse happily went on and on about them.

Yeah, I’ll just lay here and pretend I didn’t hear any of that.

The baby was doing great, considering how early he’d arrived. The doctor was happy with his growth and breathing, recommending that I stay in hospital for only another week as long as he saw progress and no complications. It was a giant—and I mean GIANT—learning curve for the both of us, and I was surprised that Haden caught on to the whole bath, nappy, burping, swaddling routine so quickly.

He visited after work every day, armed with something new for the baby each time, and a little something for me. We had the routine down pat; I texted him what I wanted for dinner and he snuck it in every night. I figured, if I was going to die of a heart attack by eating the greasiest burgers that existed, I might as well do it while I’m already in a hospital! Okay, stupid guilt attacked me afterwards when I remembered that everything I shoved in my mouth went straight to the baby. It was all rabbit food from that moment onwards.

It’s a couple of days after the birth that I meet Haden’s mother for the first time and am officially introduced to Mr. Sadler as his stepfather, David. Mrs. Sadler (Liz) seems nice enough, and just like Haden said, she’s a lot like my mother. I can see where he got some of his looks from, but according to her, Haden is the spitting image of his late father.

Like any proud grandparent, Liz refuses to put the baby down and gives me endless advice on how to swaddle. Who would have thought that my whole life would one day revolve around swaddling? Half the time, I’m worried she’ll swaddle him to death with how tight she wraps his little body. But I soon found out the why she does; my kid is a wriggler. He wriggles his way out of every swaddle unless you wrap him like he’s in a cocoon.

Mrs. Sadler picks him up, rocking him back and forth in her arms.

“Presley, I can’t thank you enough for bringing our beautiful grandson into the world. Look David, doesn’t he have Haden’s eyes?”

“He looks just like him.” Mr. Sadler smiles.

In all fairness, the Jerk is beautiful, so I guess that’s not a bad thing. When I first laid eyes on my son, he looked like a wrinkly old man, but as the days passed, certain features started forming and he looked more and more like Haden. Except for the hair. It’s curly, and we all know where that came from.

“When Haden was born, he cried for days on end. Nothing would settle him.”

“What was wrong with him?” I ask.

“He had terrible wind.”

“Gee Mom, thanks for telling everyone that,” the Jerk complains, sulking in his chair like a spoiled child.

The nurse, who is taking my blood pressure, snickers as she writes down my results. Mr. Sadler appears amused but doesn’t want to anger Haden. Ignoring his mother, he takes out his cell and busily types away. He mentions something to Mr. Sadler about an email that got sent through.

“Please, enough of the business talk. Can the two of you please enjoy this moment?” Mrs. Sadler pleads with Haden and Mr. Sadler. “Now, as I was saying earlier, it’s perfectly natural for a baby to experience wind.”

“Yeah, I know that,” he grunts. “Just lay off all the Baby Haden talk.”

It’s late afternoon and with many visitors already gone, I yawn as the exhaustion creeps in. Haden leaves to get something from the cafeteria, but walks back into the room not long after, carrying coffees. He hands them to Mr. and Mrs. Sadler, then asks me if I want something. I shake my head, and as much as I would kill for that coffee, the last thing I need is a baby who’s wired up and awake all night long.

“So, do we have a name yet?” Mrs. Sadler coos, rocking the baby gently.

And then we’re back to the problem with the baby’s name. I had some thoughts on boys’ names, but Haden was quick to shut them down. Annoyed at his input, he too would mention names that would make my eyes roll at the lack of thought put into them.

“Are you just naming superheroes now? What’s next, Bruce Wayne?”

“He’d be the coolest kid in school.”

“No.” I put my foot down.

The argument continues on for days, and even after my parents, Gemma, and Melissa arrive, they too end up leaving without knowing the baby’s name.

The nurses seem amused that six days in, Baby Boy Cooper is still nameless, which prompts another argument. I want the baby to be Malone, and Haden, of course, argues for it to be Cooper.

“The baby will be with me all the time. I don’t want people calling me Mrs. Cooper.”

“Well I don’t want people calling me Mr. Malone.”

I growl in frustration. How can someone so good-looking be so damn stubborn?!

He takes the baby from my arms and sits in the armchair beside me. “I’ve got a name.” He smiles hopefully.

I roll my eyes, again, at this back and forth debate. “Clark Kent?”

“No, this is...it’s my dad’s name.”

“Your dad?” I raise my eyebrows at him.

I have learned one thing about Haden; he doesn’t like to talk too much about his dad. It’s a sensitive subject, and one which I never pushed. When he does talk about him, I simply listen. He admires him so much and only ever speaks fondly about him. I get it; he misses his dad terribly, and it was so tragic to have lost him that way.

“Masen.”

I stare at our little boy’s face, as he’s nestled in Haden’s arms. I say it out loud, and the moment I do, I know it’s our baby’s name. Everything about it fits perfectly, from the way it rolls off Haden’s tongue when he says it, to the look on his face when he calls him that for that first time.

“Masen. I like that. Masen Malone Cooper,” I agree. And just like that, our beautiful baby boy has a name. It’s the only thing we have ever agreed on, but that doesn’t matter. It’s the most important decision, and for once we made it together.

“Your cell’s been beeping, like fifty million times,” I tell him.

Haden had fallen asleep on the lounge chair midway through his routine visit with me. Honestly, he looks completely worn out. From what Vicky told me, he had been returning to the office every night to wrap up all the work that I didn’t get a chance to hand over and to finalize details on Fallen Baby before it goes to print.

“Huh, what?” Dazed, he removes his glasses and rubs his eyes.

“Your cell,” I speak slowly. “It beeped a million times.”

He pulls it out and looks at the screen, then immediately places it back in his pocket.

I fix my blanket and find the courage to ask the question that’s been eating at me.

“So, Eloise. Is there a reason she hasn’t visited the baby yet?”

He turns to face me. “She sent you flowers.”

“I know. I’m asking why she hasn’t visited, because according to her, you two are getting married this coming weekend.”

He diverts his attention back to his cell, removing it again from his pocket. He doesn’t say anything for a while and I’m left wondering what the hell happened. The last thing I want is another argument, and just as I’m about to drop it altogether, he says, “The wedding has been postponed for another month. She didn’t think we should go ahead with it yet, given the added stress right now.”

“What stress? You’re not lying in a hospital bed with stitches,” I remind him.

“I mean for her.”

“Right. It’s always about Eloise,” I mumble, resenting him for thinking about her well-being over mine.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you still never denied what she told me the day my water broke. Is it true you want joint custody? Is it true you’re trying to have a baby with her?” I question, raising the pitch of my voice as I plead for answers.

Standing up, he moves towards the window and glances outside, his back towards me. He is still dressed in his grey pants and a white shirt, abandoning his tie as he does every night.

In front of the window, his body stands tall, and for a moment I wonder what it’s like to lean my head against his back and wrap my arms around him. I snap back to reality as soon as he opens his mouth.

“It’s true about the joint custody. I’m scared, okay? I have no idea what to expect. I don’t want to be a dad that visits his kid every other weekend. I want to see him every day,” he stammers, unable to control the emotion behind his admission.

“And the baby stuff? About you trying?”

“I was drunk and off my face on some shit Marcus gave me. I would have told the homeless guy around the corner I wanted to have babies with him.”

This changed everything, but it shouldn’t have. He provided an explanation to the questions that have haunted me ever since my lunch with Eloise. But the big question, the one still yet to be answered properly, is why is he still marrying her? I’m in the mood to ask again, and frankly, I’m sick and tired of lying in this bed. I miss my real bed. I miss being a normal, functioning human that can shower without the assistance of a nurse. And most of all, I miss everything about the former Presley who had her whole life planned out.

“I’m tired,” I yawn, turning my back to him.

“I should probably go.”

I cover the rest of myself with a blanket and nestle my head into the pillow. With Masen fast asleep, I’m hoping to catch a few extra hours of sleep tonight myself.

Haden walks over to Masen and kisses him gently on the forehead. With a placid smile, he walks around the bed, ready to leave the room, but just before he does, I blurt out to him, “You can see Masen every day, I promise you that. We’ll make this work, Haden.”

He stops just shy of the door and turns back to face me. Not saying a word, his lips curve upwards and he gives me the most genuinely heartfelt smile. The Haden smile that always melts my insides, triggering those butterflies to spread their wings and flutter in delight. I smile in return, and without any more words left to say, our actions speak the loudest.

It’s the biggest commitment we can make, the commitment to raise our child together.

 

Motherhood.

There is no amount of textbooks and advice that can prepare you for it. And those damn diaper commercials…yeah, what a load of crap. Guess what? A baby cries. Nonstop and for no apparent reason. I have a mental checklist. Hungry, wet, gassy…but when I’ve ticked it all off, what then?

We were forced to stay in the hospital for a couple more days, just as a precaution. This was not the news I wanted to hear, and it made me sob like a baby. The nurse said it was normal to feel emotional after giving birth due to my hormones being all over the place. Argh! I was so sick of these damn hormones and crying at the drop of a hat.

My parents returned for another week before Dad had to go back to work. It was great having them around, but sometimes my mom would drive me insane. Every time someone walked through the door, she would make them sanitize their hands. Yeah, I’m all for a germ-free environment (trust me), but she was over the top. She also drove the young nurses insane, talking about the way hospitals were back in her day. I think they were glad to see me go just so they wouldn’t have to deal with her ever again.

Haden continued with his visits, but still no Eloise. Apparently she had been struck with the flu and didn’t want the baby to catch it. Fair enough. I wasn’t going to pry further, but we both knew that was a load of shit.

The day that the doctors gave the all clear, I was beyond ecstatic to finally leave the hospital. Haden hired some car with an extra special car seat fitted by some expert (talk about paranoia), but I let him do whatever would keep him happy, considering the stress he was under. It was evident, and he had dropped a lot of weight, not to mention that ridiculous beard making a comeback. Every time I asked him if he was okay, he would grunt and walk away.

Settling at home with Masen is harder than I thought it’d be. During the day he sleeps like an angel, but at night…boy does he have a set of lungs on him! It wasn’t until the end of the first week that I established a routine and got him to settle down for a couple of hours at night. Kate is a godsend, and even though I feel like I’m imposing on her personal space, she’s always quick to shut me down.

“For the millionth time…I love having you here! Do you know what I would be doing right now if you weren’t here? Buying some sort of wonder mop from an infomercial I got stuck watching while shoving spoons of ice cream in my mouth.”

“But I feel bad. You can’t exactly bring somebody home to a crying baby.”

“Trust me doll, the last time I brought somebody home was when Justin Timberlake was still dating Britney. Besides, the men I get involved with like to keep personal space exactly that—personal. I swear I pick the wrong men.”

“You and Vicky both.”

“Uh, no…Vicky has dated some gorgeous creatures. She just won’t settle down with one instead of pining for that married loser Patrick.”

The door opens and Vicky appears with a shopping bag and Haden behind her.

So, here’s the thing. Since I’ve been back home (all seven days), Haden has come over every day. When I told him he didn’t have to, mainly because I knew how exhausted he was, he got offended and ranted on about parental rights. Jerk. And so he’s now formed his own groove on the couch, and I may have even seen an extra toothbrush hanging around in the bathroom. It’s like a goddamn zoo in here sometimes, but secretly, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Standing behind Vicky, he is armed with what look like pizza boxes…oh the smell. I know I should start to get rid of this baby weight, but who can resist the smell of melted cheese?

“I got pizza, and yes…it’s that fatty cheese you girls want.”

“What a gentleman!” Kate roars.

“Eloise would kill me for getting anything but low-fat sheep cheese.”

“You mean goat cheese.” I laugh.

“Yeah, whatever.”

The four of us dig in while Kate turns on the TV. We get stuck watching some game show and we argue over the answers. If not for them bringing me down with their silly answers, I would have won a million dollars and a brand new car by now.

On cue, upon finishing my slice, Masen begins to squirm in the rocker beside me. I go to pick him up, placing him over my shoulder and patting his back gently. Last night he was extremely unsettled and didn’t want to feed, so of course I barely slept.

“No offense Pres, but you look like hell,” Vicky says, taking Masen off me only to have Haden immediately take him out of her arms.

“Baby won’t sleep and Mommy would love a shower.”

“Go shower,” Haden commands.

I’m not going to say no to that; I’m desperate to feel like myself again. I stand up, sore in all the wrong places, and begin to make my way to the bathroom.

“Oh wait! So you know how you were talking to me about how your nipples were bleeding from feeding?” Vicky rummages through her purse, unaware that she just embarrassed me in front of everyone.

“Um…yes, but you didn’t really need to broadcast it.”

Haden snickers, his head down and a grin on his face.

“Ta-da! The Mexican nipple hat!”

She produces this small box, and lo and behold, it does look like a Mexican hat…for my nipples.

“Where on earth…?”

“I Googled your problem, spoke to some moms at my Pilates class, and found them at the drugstore.”

“I’m not sure whether to laugh at you or hug you.”

“I think you’ll be hugging me when your nipples aren’t tugged like a milked cow.”

I head to the shower, shaking my head at her. Inside the bathroom, I carefully take off my clothes. My boobs are sore, veins popping. I decide to feed him and release the pressure after a quick shower. With my incision on the mend, I wash myself as instructed. I wrap a towel around myself after briefly drying my hair, leaving it damp. When I head back to the room, Haden is sitting on my bed with Masen.

“You feel better?”

He doesn’t look my way when he asks and I feel practically naked standing here in a towel. He has no concept of personal space and hangs out in my room every time he comes here.

“Yes, a million times better. Probably better if I get some clothes on in private…”

“Get dressed, then. I won’t look.”

I can’t be bothered to argue, and I head to the closet to get changed in there. I emerge moments later and stop at the vanity to quickly tie my hair up into a bun. I settle for wearing a loose, white button-down shirt and khaki shorts, hoping to take Masen out for a walk later. Not getting out of the house during the day has made me extremely restless. For someone who is accustomed to being at work all day, this whole stay-at-home mom gig is a huge shock to the system. If you ask me who guest starred on Ellen this week, I can sadly give you every name.

“I think he is hungry.”

“He is always hungry, hence why these things keep getting bigger and bigger.”

“I noticed.”

I shoot him a sarcastic smile, then settle into my chair. Haden is watching me, like he always does, and I manage to get the baby to latch on without  breast exposure. I yelp at the slight sting, then remember the Mexican hat. I use it, and instantly I feel less pain. Seems like I owe Vicky big time.

“That bad?”

“That bad…I mean, I’ve had them tugged before, but shit…this is painful.”

His mood instantly shifts and he begins to fidget with the fray of his jeans. Too much nipple and boob talk. Forgive him; he is a guy after all.

“I really need to get out of here,” I sigh, switching subjects.

He lifts his head, making eye contact. “How about we go for a walk? It’s a warm night out.”

“Sounds perfect.”

The walk is just what I need. The night air is warm with a slight breeze that picks up as we turn the corner. The streets are still bustling with people heading out to dinners and clubs. It’s a Friday night, and it feels so different to be pushing a baby around the streets.

An old lady is sitting alone at the bus stop. Clutching onto her purse, she peers down the street, looking out for the bus. She stops, noticing us, and smiles. I smile in return and when it’s time to walk past her, she greets us.

“What a beautiful baby!” She peeks into the stroller, admiring Masen. “I’ve got eight children and thirty-four grandkids.”

“Wow, you must have been really busy,” Haden says.

I jab him with my elbow, reading his dirty mind. He grins in return as I shake my head at him, smiling. She pulls back and something about her changes, almost as if we had touched on a sore subject. Haden and I look at each other, confused by what just happened, then turn back to face her.

“None of them are in the city. In fact, my George lives in Japan. Imagine that? Living all the way in Japan. My youngest, Maggie, visits every Christmas.”

“I’m sorry. That must be hard for you,” I tell her.

“It is. But then I see a couple like the two of you and it reminds me of when my husband Frank and I used to walk down this exact street with baby George. It was before he went to the war. I remember it like it was yesterday,” she says wistfully, clutching onto a gold necklace draped around her neck.

“We’re not actually a couple,” I correct her. Haden glares at me for clarifying that point.

“Well, you certainly look happy, the both of you. Enjoy these moments, because before you know it, you’re catching the bus to go home alone.”

The bus pulls up to the curb and the old lady waves goodbye. She had a point…one that kinda sticks with me. Thirty-two years of my life have passed, and now Masen is here and all I want to do is freeze time so I can cherish this moment. Life is short, and as I look over at Haden tucking Masen into his blanket, I wonder what life is all about. Love, laughter, happiness? And how does Haden fit into that equation? I have to admit, since the hormones died down, we get along much better. We are friends. We are partners for the sake of raising our son. Do I look at him in a romantic way? Not really.

But then my focus moved on to Masen. My goal each day is just to try to stay awake and feed my son. Talking with this woman about her life has caused loneliness to wash over me. I want everything she just said. Babies, a husband, and a lifetime full of happy memories. Watching the man who helped create our son pushing his stroller, it triggers the emotions I keep pushing away.

“You okay?” He stops just a few steps away from a busy restaurant blaring loud Spanish music.

“Who would have thought that you of all people would be spending your Friday night pushing a stroller?” I say, ignoring my emotions and motioning for him to continue walking.

With a sly smirk, he continues to push our son, stopping only to wait for the lights to change. “Who would have thought that Miss OCD would have forgotten the baby bag at home? Because someone’s definitely dumped his load.”

I scowl as the whiff of his soiled nappy hits  my nose. Haden turns the stroller back around as we begin our journey home again. How silly of me to think Masen could go ten minutes without pooping his pants!

“Sometimes I don’t know what’s happened to me, you know? It’s like my focus has shifted and I can’t think ahead. Take, for example, the apartment hunting. I have no idea what I’m after or where I’m even looking. Old Presley would have found a place by now, moved in and already repainted the walls.”

“You’ve gone through a lot. It’s expected.”

“Maybe. The only place I’m even semi-excited about is this cute bungalow a street away from Gemma’s.”

He stops, prompting a couple behind us to swerve in annoyance. I swear I hear them curse under their breaths, but Haden is oblivious.

“As in, California?”

“Uh, yeah.” I take the stroller from him and continue pushing, hoping this argument can be avoided. What was I thinking? It’s merely an idea I’ve been toying with because Gemma and Melissa would be able to help me out. Nothing is concrete.

“Were you going to tell me about it?”

“No, because I was only looking. If I felt it was more serious, then yes, I would.”

“You didn’t even tell me you were thinking about it! What about Masen? I live here…how could I see him every night?”

We reach the door to my building and I stop just in front of it. He is standing against the railing with his arms folded, nostrils flaring like a bull ready to attack. Apparently I’m holding the red flag. Surprise, surprise. Mr. Irrational is acting like a petulant child.

“Would you keep your panties on? Nothing, and I mean nothing, is set in stone. I’m keeping all my options open. I would have consulted with you first. I realize it’s not just my decision.”

His trademark move of running his hands through his hair begins. “Bullshit. You don’t care what I think. I’m going home.”

He doesn’t say another word, turning his back on me and walking out of sight.

Am I in the wrong here? I told him I was looking at all of my options. Of course I can’t just up and go, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense to move. With the money I have from the sale of the apartment, I would have a healthy down payment on a house in California. Masen would have a backyard and warm weather almost year-round. I can afford to work part-time, and most importantly, Gemma and Melissa would be close by. Charlie and I have been emailing back and forth about California. She is extremely helpful, giving me tips on the best schools and places to take Masen.

Well, it’s a thought.

Just that.

And the Jerk, for now, has nothing to worry about.

By now, I’m used to his little temper tantrums. I move on and push the stroller into the building, quickly making my way to the elevator. Upon arriving at my floor, I take out my keys and notice a man standing beside my door. He looks familiar, but I’m on guard just in case. I wrap my hand around the mace in my purse. He tilts his head sideways and I catch a glimpse of his jawline.

I would recognize that jawline anywhere…

“Jason?” I ask, in awe.

“Presley…Wow…”

He moves his focus to the stroller and appears to be in shock. “I was told you had a baby and thought it was a joke, but I had to see for myself. You have a baby.”

“Yes…I know I should have told you, but it’s complicated.”

We both stand there at a loss for words. Jason, seeing me with a baby. And myself, having forgotten how handsome he is. He reaches his arms out and I move forward and give him a hug. My body instantly relaxes in his embrace, but I don’t want to complicate things. I pull away, unable to control my happiness at seeing him again.

“Jase…I can’t believe you’re here.”

His smile remains fixed as he ruffles his hair before asking, “Is it mine?”

I laugh softly. “No, it isn’t. Like I said, it’s complicated.”

“Indeed. Are you free now for dinner or something?”

I look at my cell and notice the time. Masen needs to be changed and fed so I can tuck him in for the night, despite how much I want to have dinner with Jason.

“I really need to get Masen down. How about next weekend? I can ask my roommate to babysit.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll text you during the week?”

“Sure.”

              He begins to walk away but stops, leaning into my ear. “I honestly forgot how beautiful you are, Presley.”

My body reacts instantly. I melt at his words, missing the familiarity.

I close my eyes for a brief moment as he walks away, his lingering scent invading my senses.

I miss him, and now all I can think about is Friday night.

My dinner date with my ex-fiancé. The once love of my life. Jason Hart.