“And that day I let her go—just for a second. Just to see if she learned anything. And she kicked and paddled away. I snatched her up immediately. It scared the hell out of me. And then I took her home and decided never again. But it was cool. I taught her something, you know? I barely had to try and I taught her something.”
I want to be a dick about this right now. So bad. But I decide it’s a horrible idea. I can’t win. I can’t be mad, even though I’m so fucking pissed off. Being mad won’t make anything better. It will, in fact, make everything worse. My little analogy about the drunk boyfriend has already started to fuck things up and we just got back together. If I want to stay here with her—them, including Bric—I need to find a way to get past the anger. So I say, “Sounds amazing,” instead of, So glad you got all that alone time with her and I was left with nothing.
“I wanted to call you,” she says, looking down at Adley instead of me.
“When?”
“That day. Every day. I wanted to tell you everything.”
“So why didn’t you?”
She shrugs and stands up in the tub, holding Adley close to her breasts. “Will you get a towel so I can wrap her up?”
I grab a towel from a row of shelves filled with them, and then walk forward, holding it out. Rochelle pushes Adley at me and says, “Take her for a second, will you? I don’t like stepping out of the tub with her in my arms. I have a little floaty seat I usually set her in, but obviously I don’t have it right now.”
I take a deep breath and take squirming Adley. She balks, twists, and there’s a moment when I just know I’ll drop her.
I don’t. But it’s not a seamless transition, and Adley begins to cry.
Rochelle steps out, grabs a white robe off a chair, and wraps herself up.
I can’t take my eyes off her, but she’s not looking at me. She’s paying no attention to me at all. She only has eyes for very fussy Adley.
I hand her over when Rochelle reaches out, kinda relieved. I have no clue what to do with a baby. I’m an only child so I never had nieces or nephews. None of my friends have kids. And Smith’s rat dog does not count, regardless of what he thinks.
Fucking Smith. What was all that bullshit back at the hotel? It’s like he’s got a personal grudge against Rochelle. And while it’s flattering that he’s kinda protective of me, that he paid her money this whole year just so he could ambush her into an explanation if she ever came back, it’s also… very weird.
Bric and Smith have been my best friends for so long, I sometimes take it for granted that we all want the same things. But I’m wrong. We don’t. And Smith’s quick exit from the game once Chella came along just proves it.
“Can you grab the diaper bag?” Rochelle asks, walking past me and into the bedroom.
“Sure,” I say. How hard can that be? But when I go back out to where Rochelle’s stuff is, I can’t decide which one it is. They all look like suitcases to me.
“It’s this one,” Rochelle says, picking up something she brought with her when we first got here. I thought it was her purse.
Nope. It’s a diaper bag.
I suck at this new game.
“Hey, Quin?” Rochelle asks a few minutes later.
“Yeah?” I say back.
“Can you put that little porta-crib in the second bedroom for me?”
“Sure.” Porta-crib. It’s gotta be this massive folded thing, right? I feel confident it is, so I pick it up and take it into the second bedroom. Rochelle is busy doing a million things, it seems. She talks to Adley in a soft voice the whole time, like she’s trying to convince her to be happy.
Adley is not convinced.
I flip the crib open and have a moment of satisfaction. “See. I can adult.”
I look over my shoulder to see if Rochelle heard me. She didn’t.
“Does she always sleep in a separate room?” I ask.
“Yes,” Rochelle answers. “God, I made the mistake of sleeping with her when she was little and it took me weeks to get her to go to bed in the crib. I won’t do that again.”
“Did you have a two-bedroom hotel room?” I ask, trying to imagine how much that costs. I don’t know why I’m so focused on her lifestyle while she was gone. But it’s sorta irritating that she was living like a princess this whole time and I was so damn miserable.
“No.” She laughs, coming into the room with a bottle.
They are both dressed now. Rochelle is wearing shorts and a t-shirt that is way too big for her. It says “Mineral Springs Resort” on the front. Adley is wearing a pink one-piece thing that looks like underwear, and says, “The coolest people are from Pagosa Springs, Colorado.” It’s like everything they own came from a tourist shop.
“But I had her crib set up away from the bed,” Rochelle continues. “So she knew I wasn’t right there the whole time.”
“Oh.” I watch her get in the bed with Adley and give her the bottle. Adley takes it eagerly, her tiny hands wrapping around the bottle like she won’t let it get away. Her eyes get heavy and begin to close immediately.
So do Rochelle’s.
I back out of the room and go watch some TV. I guess that’s all she needed from me. Why did I say I’d stay the night? I should just leave. Go home. Forget about it for a while.
But I don’t. I just stare mindlessly at the TV. Because Rochelle owes me. She owes me that last fuck she skipped out on.
She’s gonna make this up to me. Whether she knows it or not. One last time. I’m gonna fuck her alone one last time to wipe the past away.
Because starting tomorrow, the only time I’ll touch her is with Bric.
New game. New rules. New life.
I’m almost asleep and I’m all caught up on sports news when Rochelle finally comes out of the second bedroom. She looks at me, then closes the giant barn doors as quietly as she can.
“I was almost sure you’d be gone when I came out.”
“I told you, I’m not leaving.” I take my feet off the couch to give her room and she gets the hint and sits down, pulling her knees up and tucking the giant t-shirt over her legs.
She rests her hand on my knee. Tentatively. When I don’t object she eases her head down on top of my thigh and lets out a long, tired breath. “I’m glad I’m back.”
“Me too,” I say. I am. I’m happy she’s back. I don’t even want to think about all the days she was missing.
“I missed you a—”
“Take off your shirt,” I say.
She squints her eyes at me, then grabs the bottom of her shirt and lifts it over her head, tossing it on the floor.
I stare at her breasts. They were always spectacular but now they are even more tantalizing. “Play with them,” I say. “I want to see you play with them.”
She cups them, her small hands squeezing. Then she pinches her nipples, both at the same time, and closes her eyes. “I want you to touch me,” she says. “I want it more than anything.”
I ignore her request and say, “Turn around. Face that way.” I point to the other end of the couch. “And put your pussy in the air for me.”
She bites her lip and draws in a deep breath, probably surprised by my directness. I was always the nice guy. The considerate lover. I had my rough moments with her. And Bric and I are always rougher with her together than I am alone.