Juked (6 page)

“Not everyone,” I say as I peel my now almost dry jersey over my head. “You planning on settling down anytime soon?”

He takes a swig of his beer. “I haven’t met anyone interesting lately, so it would be hard to do but I’m not opposed to it. What about you? Any of your lady friends caught your eye for more than just a one-nighter?”

“Hell, no.” I take another swig, peel the sweaty clothes off my lower body, and wrap a towel around my waist. “I have no interest in getting married at all.”

Christian looks surprised to hear that. “Are you kidding? With your giant Mexican family, I would have thought you’d be the first person to walk down the aisle and start making babies.”

“No way, but thanks for the stereotype.” I shake my head adamantly while he laughs. “You saw the shit my mama went through when dad left her. No way in hell I am going to get married just so I can abandon my family later on. I may be a dick, but I’d rather be a single dick.”

“Why the hell do you think you’d leave your family behind?” Christian asks, confused. “Not all marriages end. My parents are still happily married forty years later. They’re still all lovey-dovey.” He shivers in disgust. “It totally grosses me out.” I laugh. “But it also proves my point. Just because your parents had a rough go of it doesn’t mean you will.”

“Apparently you’ve forgotten about my sister.”

He sighs. “I haven’t forgotten about Blanca. I know she had a nasty divorce, too.”

“Look, I’m not saying marriage is bad,” I say, holding up my hands. “I think I’d be better off not risking it. I’m perfectly fine with the way things are. No one has expectations of a future. No one gets hurt. I can get laid whenever I want.” He rolls his eyes as I waggle my eyebrows up and down. “It works fine for everyone involved.”

“If you say so, man,” Christian says.

“And besides,” I add, “like you said, I have a huge family. I have more than enough people to dote on without dealing with all the bullshit that comes from relationships.”

Chris Kuttnauer walks by, showered and dressed to the nines. “You guys coming with us to celebrate?”

“Maybe,” I say. “By the way, congratulations.”

He beams at me. “Thanks, man. Michelle is a such a great girl. I can’t believe she actually agreed to marry me.” He starts to walk away. “Meet us at Morty’s in half an hour if you’re interested.”

“Will do.” I look at Christian. “See that right there? That look of excitement? It fades, man. I don’t want any part of the decline.”

Christian doesn’t say anything as I stroll toward the showers. He knows I’m right.

“T
hanks for helping me clean out the apartment,” I say to Geni as I tape up the final box. For the last few days, we’ve spent all our free time at Sarah’s place.

Once I tracked down the building manager and provided proof that Sarah had died, he gave us a full thirty days to clean it out. We didn’t need thirty days to do it. There wasn’t much.

We had taken all the baby stuff before the funeral because I obviously needed to get Chance set up as soon as possible. A small crib, a swing, some clothes. It all looked secondhand, but it was clean and in good condition.

The apartment was in a decent location. It was small but well maintained. There was healthy food in the fridge. The lack of bottles leads me to believe she was exclusively breast feeding, explaining one reason why he cries so much. She even had a few pictures of her and Chance in cute frames around the apartment. I made sure those came with us before anything else.

I was really proud of my sister for what she had accomplished for her and the baby. I only wished she was here so I could tell her so. The guilt is still crushing when I think about how I should have told her that when she was alive. I’m not sure I will ever get over it. No matter what, I will make sure Chance knows who his mother was and how proud of him she would be.

“You know I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Geni says as she unplugs a small lamp and wraps the cord around the base. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

I sigh, stacking the box on top of another one by the door. “It’s not,” I admit as I walk over to the small couch and plop myself down for a much needed break. I concentrate on keeping down the lump in my throat. “I miss my sister.” The words barely come out a whisper. I can’t even look at Geni as I try not to cry again. I’m tired of crying. It’s time to move forward. But I don’t want to leave her behind either. It’s a hard place to be.

In true Geni fashion, she stops what she’s doing and plops down next to me, picking up my hand. “I know, baby cakes. You’re never going to not miss her.”

I smile because that’s all she says. And I smile because that’s all she needs to say. Geni has this uncommon way of validating feelings without sugar-coating anything, all while comforting me when I need it most. I’ve seen her do it with coworkers when they’ve gone through difficult times and it’s always amazed me how she does it. It’s probably because she genuinely cares about people.

We are sitting there, lost in our thoughts, her stroking my hand gently, when there is a hard knock at the door.

“I guess it’s time for a pickup,” she says and walks to the front door. I take one last look around, silently telling my sister goodbye. I never saw her in this apartment, but it doesn’t make it any easier to sell the last of her belongings, even if it is for Chance’s care.

“Hey, I’m here to pick up the couch,” a deep voice says behind me.

“Come on in,” Geni says, and I stand. “Did you ever decide about the microwave?” she asks him and his buddy as they enter the tiny living room.

The twenty-something-year-old guys saunter over, nodding at me in greeting. Pretty much everyone who bought something from the estate knew why we were selling everything, and it seems they were trying to be respectful of me. Only one of them asked where Chance had ended up. It was the old woman who lived next door. I was grateful someone was worried about the baby. That made me feel like they were both cared for in my absence. And seeing how she was also chatty, I was sure everyone else in the building knew very quickly I had custody of Sarah’s baby.

“Yeah, I want it. You said twenty, right?” one of them asks. She nods. “Done.” He slaps a twenty-dollar bill in her hand and picks up the microwave off the counter, putting it on the couch they are about to pick up.

The first twenty-something, who is apparently the couch’s new owner, looks at the boxes by the door. “Do you need help carrying those to your car or anything?” He turns to look at me. “I don’t mind at all. You’re actually doing me a favor by selling me a good couch for cheap.”

I smile at him, hoping to convey my appreciation. “Thanks, but they really aren’t heavy. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

He nods again. “Okay. Well, if you need anything before you’re out, I live downstairs, so let me know.”

It takes him and his buddy a few minutes to maneuver the coach out the door and down the stairs, almost toppling the microwave off a few times. It actually gives me some much needed comic relief, especially when Geni starts yelling “Pivot!” channeling the sentiments of one of our favorite episodes of
Friends
. Once the show is over, Geni and I clean up a few last minute messes and pack up the cleaning supplies. As she takes the final box down to my car, I lock the door behind me.

I miss Sarah. I will always miss Sarah. But it’s time to move on.

“So how’s it going with the baby?”

Laurie, our caseworker from the Department of Family and Protective Services, sits with me on the couch in my apartment. Her kind smile is non-threatening. I like her. I feel like she has our best interests at heart. She’s visited with us a couple of times over the last month, and I always enjoy talking with her.

While I had been granted emergency custody of Chance the night of the accident, there is still a long road ahead of us. In order to obtain permanent custody or adopt, the state still has to do a complete home study, I have to take some parenting classes, and a few other things have to be processed to get through the red tape.

They’re still looking for Chance’s biological father, because the law requires it, but Laurie assured me they weren’t having any more luck than I was. That will make the entire process a lot faster since I’m Chance’s only blood relative, which I am grateful for. Laurie is a really nice woman and seems to really want to help us, but being held accountable to anyone for things happening in your home gets daunting really quickly.

I take a deep breath. “It’s still hard,” I respond. “Do babies grieve?”

She crinkles her eyebrows and cocks her head at me. “Still having a problem with the crying?”

I nod. “I’ve tried gripe water for his tummy and laying him on his stomach, rocking him, talking to him, even turning on cartoons. You name it, I’ve tried it.” I shake my head in exasperation. “When he’s sleeping, he’s fine. You hear him now,” I say, waving at the swing where he is snoring softly. “And when he wakes up, he’s happy, even when I talk to him from across the room. But it’s like as soon as he sees my face, he realizes I’m not her, and he starts crying again.”

“Wow,” she says. “It does sound like he’s misses her.”

“It’s the craziest thing. I’m not trying to replace her. She will always be his mom. I just wish I could help him.”

“It honestly sounds really normal.”

“How is this normal?”

“Think of it from his perspective for a second,” she says, putting her notebook and pen aside. “He spent nine months living inside Sarah’s body, right up underneath her heartbeat. Then for the first two months after he was born, she was with him at all hours of the day. She provided for all his needs. From what we can gather, she was breastfeeding exclusively, too, right?” I nod, trying to put myself in his shoes. “Now the person that was his safety and comfort is completely gone, ripped away from him. You live in a different place, you probably use different perfume and laundry detergent. You even use bottles. So his tiny little self is having to get used to Sarah being gone, all while he’s getting used to different smells and sounds.”

“And I probably sound like her, but it confuses him because I’m
not
her.”

Laurie nods.

“That makes me want to cry, too.”

Laurie pats my leg. “Keep doing what you’re doing, Quincy. Sarah is irreplaceable as your sister, but to a certain degree, you are having to replace her as his mom.”

She’s telling me the hard truth but that’s exactly what it is.
Hard
truth. I can’t be his aunt, his friend, his guardian. If I’m going to give him the emotional stability he needs, I have to find a way to be okay with being his
mom.
Sarah would want it that way.

“Tell me about his day care,” she says, switching topics. “Did it work out with your friend’s sister for weekends?”

We chat a little while longer about how Monica is watching Chance while I work and how much money the sale of Sarah’s things brought. Laurie reports this is proving to be an open and shut case, so far. The only thing I really need to worry about is asking for permanent managing conservatorship or adoption.

The difference? If I adopt, Sarah’s name will be removed from Chance’s birth certificate and mine will be put on it instead. I know we talked about me being his mother, but this still gives me pause. Laurie reassures me it’s not a decision I have to make now.