I shovel several forkfuls of pasta into my mouth, knowing I'm going to need the fuel, and grab my keys and wallet, then take off out the door.
Kylie
As I hang up the phone, a wave of nausea hits me, and I'm terrified I'm doing the wrong thing. There is no guidebook on how to be a single mother, or what to do when your baby-daddy calls you unexpectedly. I believed the right thing to do was probably to give him a chance. A chance for Max to have a real family – instead of just me, trying to do it all and barely keeping my head above water. And speaking of doing it all, I've done too much today. My house is clean, and my laundry is caught up, but my arm is sore and achy.
I curl up in bed, laying on my side as visions of last night with Pace flood my brain. He'd been so strong, so commanding with his filthy words and massively large cock, yet tender and sweet at the same time with his concern over my casted arm. Just thinking of him produces a rush of conflicting emotions. I guess it's true what they say about wanting what you can't have. Even though he'd proven himself reliable, part of me still believes that he's too young and too immature to really settle down into the stable type of relationship I need right now.
Tears leak from the corners of my eyes and I hug my pillow to my chest. My heart is heavy and I'm so confused about my path, but I have to believe that if I put Max first, I will make the right decision.
Chapter Twelve
Pace
The florescent lights of the twenty-four-hour superstore shine brightly overhead, momentarily disorienting me from my task. I'm staring at a wall display of six different types of outlet covers. Given that it's nearly two in the morning, my eyes are glazed over as I try to read the packages to decipher the differences. Finally settling on one called Universal Baby Saver, I toss it in my cart.
My cart is already overflowing. I've gathered soft fleece blankets, teddy bears, balls, trucks, trains that make sounds, an inflatable dragon, because who doesn't need an inflatable dragon? A have a small piano, a bean bag chair, a talking dog that speaks in Spanish, English and French, and all kinds of things that promise to keep drawers and cabinets safely locked. I never knew there was so much to worry about with little ones, or that there were so many dangers within my home.
Pushing the heavy cart toward the checkout lanes, I'm struck with a thought. Collins encouraged me to fight for her, but what if Elan is doing this same thing right now? Not knowing what I'm up against makes me feel edgy. I know in my heart that I'm the better man for her. I would never leave her scared and alone to deal with the after effects of our actions. He's already left her once. Who's to say he won't do it again when things get tough?
I stop at the checkout counter and the young cashier beams up at me. "Wow. Stocking up, huh?"
"Yeah, something like that." Even I have to admit, it's probably a little odd to head out in the middle of the night and buy pretty much one of everything at a superstore in the suburbs. But Kylie inspired something inside of me. I feel different than I've ever felt before, and I am going to fight for her.
After unloading my car and bringing all the baby stuff inside and setting it up, it's nearly four in the morning. Time for some sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day.
Kylie
I tossed and turned all night, so when Max wakes up crying at six in the morning, I'm groggy and exhausted. I lift him one-armed from his crib and change his soaking wet diaper. His newest discovery seems to be his penis. Oh, joy. Every time I take his diaper off, he reaches down for it and tugs and pulls, in what seems like it'd be a painful way, but he doesn't seem bothered.
It only reminds me that I'm raising a boy – complete with all the parts and workings of a boy. He is going to need a man in his life. Sure, I can have the birds and the bees talk with him, but I'm fully aware that he would benefit from a man's perspective. Someone to discuss sports, and women with. I picture myself muttering, Go ask your dad, and smile. Until I realize it's not Elan in my mind's eye. It's Pace.
The smile falls from my mouth and I shake the thoughts away.
After Max is dressed and is quietly eating breakfast in his highchair, I make an extra strong cup of coffee and grab my phone.
I find a text from Pace sent at three in the morning. Wow, late night. I find myself wondering who he was out with, and what he was doing. It's not my business. His text is straight to the point.
I need to talk to you today.
I owe him that much at least. He's been so kind and generous with me and Max. I kind of just stormed into his life, and then out of it. Not that I would think a man like him would mind. I shrug away the sullen thoughts and hit reply.
Sure. What did you have in mind?
Can you guys come by later? Stay for dinner?
I take a deep breathe. I want to reply, Yes, yes, yes! But I temper my longing for a man that was never really mine to begin with. I need to think about what is best for my son. I glance over at Max. Knowing how much he enjoys being near Pace, and also that I owe Pace an explanation in person, I decide maybe we should go.
I will be there.
A text message pings a few minutes later, and a silly smile graces my lips. I assume it's Pace replying. But it's Elan.
How are you and my son on this fine morning?
My stomach churns. I glance over at Max who's happily eating chunks of bananas and dry cereal.
We're fine, thanks.
It's strange to think I dated this man for six months, that we have a child together, and yet I feel like I have nothing to say to him. I suppose it's because we haven't spoken for so long. There's bound to be some awkward silences as we reacquaint with one another.
What are you doing this weekend? I would like to see you again.
I chew on my lip.
Sure. We don't have any plans.
Okay, I will call you Saturday morning. We can meet for brunch.
I don't tell him that Max usually takes a nap late-morning, or that a restaurant might not be the best place to meet. I don't want to crush whatever this is building between us. He will learn how to be a father, and I will help him.
***
I tote Max on my hip with the diaper bag slung over my arm. This whole doing everything one-handed business is already getting old. And I have a long ways to go before my cast will be removed. I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves.
"We're going to see Pace," I tell Max as we head upstairs toward Pace's condo.
"Pa-pa," he says, clapping his chubby hands.
"Pace," I correct him, my voice coming out more firm than I intended.
Pace opens the door before I even have a chance to knock. He must have been watching for us.
"Hi," I say.
"Hi." His eyes are guarded and I wonder how tonight is going to go. He takes Max from me, lifting him into his arms and tossing him up in the air to coax a laugh from him. "Hey buddy, you remember me?" he asks.
"Pa-pa," Max murmurs.
"That's right. Papa Pace." Pace beams at him and my stomach twists.
We step inside and a few things hit me at once. The scent of appetizing food wafts from the kitchen and I notice new toys are scattered on the living room rug. "Pace?" I ask.
He doesn't answer right away, he just carries Max into the living room and sets him down amongst the pile of toys.
I follow them, my heart beating fast. "What is all this?"
Pace sinks down to his knees and watches Max go after an inflatable bouncy dragon. He chuckles. "I knew you'd like him," he says. Then he turns to me, his smile faltering just a bit. "This is me showing you that I am in this. I am not giving up on you, or on Max. If Elan's back in Max's life – fine. But I'm not going anywhere."
My heart kicks in my chest as his words tug at me. I look around at the pile of new playthings, there are books and age appropriate toys and things for learning. Tears spring to my eyes. His thoughtfulness shouldn't surprise me at this point, but no one has ever done something so sweet and meaningful before. "What did you do?" I whisper, taking it all in.
"I wanted Max to be comfortable here. I also wanted you to be comfortable, so in addition to the toys, I did some baby-proofing. The cabinets now have safety locks and the outlets all have covers."
I glance around his condo and notice the little plastic covers have been inserted into all the wall outlets and the potted palm in the dining room that Max liked to dig in is no longer resting in its spot in the corner. I swallow down the lump rising in my throat. His gestures are too much.
"Excuse me for a minute," I squeak and head into the bathroom, drawing deep pulls of oxygen into my lungs as I lock the door behind me. Who is this man? What happened to the cocky, smart-mouthed player? This man is gentle and kind and … my heart feels like it's breaking in two.