She rocked Max to sleep in her arms and finally put him in his crib around nine-thirty. Her dinner was cold on the table. She hadn’t felt like eating it before and she didn’t feel like eating it now. The fact that Faith hadn’t shown was as heartbreaking as it was relieving. Tossing the unwanted noodles into the garbage, she started the dishes. Tomorrow she would talk to a lawyer, just in case, although she suspected she didn’t have any claim to the boy. She might be able to claim abandonment. Didn’t plenty of girls run off and leave their babies with their mothers? How was this any different?
Leaving the dishes in the sink, she pulled out her banged up laptop—the one Nana had given her when she graduated–and prayed that she could piggyback on a neighbor’s Wi-Fi signal. After a few tries she found one that wasn’t password protected, but before she could finish googling attorneys, there was a knock on the door. No, more like a bang. The person continued battering it like an invading army.
Grace’s instinct was to run to it, honed from the months before she learned that Max couldn’t be woken by noise. She peeked through the peephole and then threw it open. Faith waltzed in, scanning the room, and a moment later a tall, lanky man followed her.
Staring at them both, Grace saw herself reflected in Faith’s glassy hazel eyes. She bit down on her lip before she started to scream. If there had been any doubt before, she was certain now that her sister wasn’t sober.
“Where is he?” Faith’s voice took on a note of alarm. “I told you I wanted to see him tonight.”
Grace darted in front of her, blocking her from the apartment’s small hallway. “He’s in bed. We waited up and you didn’t show.”
“What? It’s only like eight. Jason and I went to dinner.”
“It’s nearly ten.” She couldn’t quite control the quiver in her voice. “He goes to bed at seven, which you would know if you’d been here for the last year.”
“I thought we’d gone over that, sissy. I’m here now.”
“And high,” she accused.
“No, no, no.” Faith flapped her hands dramatically.
“And I told you I wanted to meet Jason first.” Grace eyed Jason suspiciously. His hair was cropped close to his head and his ebony skin accentuated his high cheekbones. He was well-dressed with none of the usual flair that Faith’s dealers flashed. But there was a calmness—a sense of authority that he exuded—that made her uneasy. “Are you giving her money or product?”
His eyebrow arched up slowly. So far everything the man did, he did with precision. “Baby, I don’t give her anything. I take care of her.”
“But you don’t take anything away from her, do you?” He wasn’t using. He was too collected, but Grace had met her fair share of guys eager to prey on addicted women. Women who would do anything to get their next hit. Women who were all too eager to fulfill every depraved fantasy. Willing slaves whose freedom was only granted when they’d been used up. Then they’d crawl to someone else more fucked up with more fucked up fantasies. Grace couldn’t help but wonder how far down the rabbit hole her sister had fallen.
“Why did your wife leave you?” She wanted answers and she wanted them fast. Was Jason connected? Did he hope to walk away with Max, too?”
“That bitch.” He shook his head, and for a moment, the smooth facade slipped. Jason rubbed his hands together. “She wanted every ounce of me. Every piece. I couldn’t have a thing to myself, and then she started making up lies.”
Grace imagined they had something to do with her sister, but she didn’t ask. She only wanted to know more about this man and his intentions. That had told her more than enough. Jason slinked toward her.
“Why? What did you hear?”
“That you loved kids, and that you wanted to meet Max.”
He backed her against the wall and waved for Faith to go ahead. “I do. I’ve been eager to meet him. My lying bitch ex-wife doesn’t let me see mine. She claims I’m an unfit father. Can you believe that?”
Obviously the woman had sense. More than Faith who’d allowed herself to be backed into a corner. Jason might have been in control a few minutes ago but now he seemed unhinged as though talking about his family had loosened some screws. As soon as her sister was out of sight, Jason leaned closer, studying her face. “Absolutely identical. Now I would be lying if I said that wasn’t most men’s fantasies. What do you think? I could take care of you, too. We’d have Max and be one big, happy family.”
Happy. Her stomach lurched and she was grateful that she’d had no appetite earlier. She wasn’t certain what a man like this would do if she vomited on him. If she squirmed away would he try to stop her? Faith was already in the bedroom. Would he let her go to check on Max? She couldn’t decide, so she stayed pressed against the cold plaster. A high pitched cry decided for her. She knocked into Jason as she dashed toward the bedroom, but before she reached it, Faith appeared holding Max. He’d calmed down but his eyes were red and sleepy.
“See? He knows his mommy,” Faith cooed, stroking Max’s silky, dark hair. As soon as she spoke to Grace, Max’s head turned and met Grace’s eyes. Immediately, he whimpered and held his arms out.
He did know his mom. Grace’s heart swelled even as it pounded frantically in her chest. She reached for him, but Faith turned away.
“You’re fine. Your mommy has you.”