Fragile Bonds (16 page)

I still have my concerns that moving in to an apartment so close to Melanie is a wise choice, but then again, I wasn’t given a choice. Melanie, being the nurturer that she is, decided that we were going to be her neighbors and that was all there was to it. What I haven’t told her is that being close to her is part of why I contemplated staying in North Carolina. When she’s near, it’s as if something short circuits in my mind and she’s all I can think about.

The door opens and my head whips to the side as Jacob and Brody pass me in a blur. “No running inside, Jacob,” I warn him. I have a feeling this is going to be an issue for a while, but he needs to learn that we have people living below us who don’t want to hear him thundering across their ceiling all day and night.

Seeing Melanie walk through my front door settles something inside of me.
It’s something about the way she nearly floats through the rooms, as if this is where she belongs. And in those moments when I’m not pissed off at the world over the fact that it should be Alyssa who is here with me,
I
feel like this is where Melanie belongs.

Every day, I tell myself that she and I are friends that that is all we can ever be. It doesn’t matter that we’ve fallen into a routine where we work together to make sure every day is a good day for Jacob. It doesn’t matter that she makes every day better for both of us. None of that matters because it’s been six weeks since I lost my wife and I would be a complete asshole to even think about moving on with anyone else, especially the woman who inadvertently caused so much pain for Alyssa when we first got together.

But then, I look at her rolling around on my living room floor, wrestling with Jacob and I start to question my sanity. Someday, the day is going to come when I do want to move on. Not for myself, but for Jacob. He deserves the best life possible, and I know that I’m not equipped to give him everything he needs. And when that day comes, will I find another woman who will love him the way Melanie does? Is there another woman out there who will embrace the fact that there was someone before her and encourage Jacob to remember her? There is no handbook for dealing with this shit, but there really should be.

“Miss Melanie, are you and Brody going to spend the night with us?” Jacob asks as he tries to catch his breath. I
know what her answer is going to be, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel like a slap in the face.

“No, buddy. I’m going to sleep at my house tonight,” she says, pulling him back onto her lap when he looks like he’s ready to cry. Jacob is too close to her already. She’s been a fixture in our lives for almost six months and she’s been the one to tuck him in every night for the past few weeks. “Your new room doesn’t have bunk beds, so there’s nowhere for me to sleep here and I
really
need to go home and take a shower. I stink.”

Jacob bursts into a fit of giggles again, letting go of his disappointment that she won’t be here in the morning when he wakes up. That’ll be the real test because she is the first person he wants to see every day. It stung the first few mornings after she came to North Carolina, but I locked that pain away with all the rest, somewhere deep in my mind, telling myself that I can cope with anything as long as it makes my son happy.

“But you can take a shower here. And now that I have a cool room, I won’t need to sleep with Daddy, so you could share his bed.” I spit soda from one end of the kitchen to the other. I wonder if Jacob senses something more going on between me and Melanie than there really is. No, he’s too young to understand what it typically means when a man and a woman share a bed.

“That’s a nice offer,” Melanie says sweetly after giving me a wide-eyed ‘what do I say to that’ look. “But I really miss my own bed. Maybe some night, you can come over and we’ll have a slumber party. Then you can see how awesome my bedroom is.”

Is it wrong to feel the slightest hint of jealousy because your four-year old son has just been invited into the bed of the woman you’re trying to convince yourself is nothing but a friend? Yeah, probably.

“Dinner’s ready.” I put some noodles and sauce into a bowl for Jacob. When I look up to ask Melanie to strip Jacob down to his undies, I
shake my head in disbelief. My boy is already sitting in his booster seat at our new table, wearing nothing but his Superman underwear. Someday, Melanie is going to be an awesome mom.

After helping Xavier get Jacob into bed, I gather all of Brody’s toys and walk home. That stupid girly part of me keeps looking over my shoulder, hoping Xavier will run after me, begging me to stay with them just one more night. You know, to make sure Jacob doesn’t have any problems acclimating to a new place.

Keep telling yourself that. Eventually, maybe you’ll stop using a
four-year old child as an excuse to get close to his father.

I open all of the windows in my apartment, hoping to air it out a bit. Right now, it feels stale from being closed up for over a month. I find a bottle of red wine in the kitchen and pour myself a glass before heading out to the balcony. The view of traffic sailing down the hill sucks now that I’ve grown accustomed to watching the moon rise over the ocean every night.

Everything is so confusing when it comes to Xavier. I don’t
want
to have feelings for him, but I’m not foolish enough to say they aren’t there. What I don’t know is whether it’s because of him, his son, or their situation that fuels the ache in my chest. With every passing day, I find myself wishing for something that can never be. There are quiet moments, much like this one, when I wonder what life would have been like had we never broken up. Would we have our own shaggy-haired little boy running around the house? Would we have a little girl who Xavier would treat like a princess? What would that life look like?

I need to get out of here before I drive myself crazy. I left town hoping to find myself, but now that I’m back home, I feel more lost than I have in a long time. I’m wishing for things I told myself weren’t important to me. I’m back to pining over the only man I ever loved. And I really wish I had more wine.

Maybe sitting on the balcony was a bad idea. I need to do something that won’t remind me of Xavier, the Outer Banks, Jacob, or anything else that’s going to do no good to think about. I flop onto the couch, pulling a throw blanket over my legs to ward off the chill from the night air. In a nearly catatonic state, I flip through the cable channels, not even stopping long enough to see what’s on. Brody burrows himself into the blankets between my legs, looking up at me with his sad puppy eyes.

“I know buddy, I miss them too,” I whisper, reaching down to scratch the dog’s head. There are things I could be doing, like trying to figure out what I’m going to do with my life now that I’ve thrown away a good career and have no desire to put my six years of college to good use any time in the near future, but instead, I sit and mope on the couch with Brody. Jesus, how pathetic are we?

I’ve been sitting in the dark since Melanie left. I turned out the lights so I could watch her walk home without her seeing me if looked toward my window. After the third time her head turned to look behind her, I thought about going to make sure she made it home safely. And so I could say goodnight to her without running the risk of Jacob coming out of his bedroom.

Swirling
the whiskey around in my glass before taking another sip, I wish for a time when life made sense. Now that I’m alone, the anger is returning to me. I’m pissed off at Alyssa for leaving me. She fought me tooth and nail when I didn’t want her in my life, screaming at me that her son deserved to be raised by two parents. And me, being the asshole that I was, told her she didn’t give a shit about me, she just wanted my money and a nice place to live. God, I was such a prick to her, but she never gave up on me. Why couldn’t she put that same fight into her own life?

Now, I’m sitting in a dark room of what is supposed to be my new home, wondering how in the hell I’m supposed to raise Jacob on my own. Now that he doesn’t have the distractions of the beach and Melanie is back at her place, he’s going to start asking questions. He has to, doesn’t he? And what does it say about me, as his father, if he doesn’t? Am I supposed to push the issue, force him to tell me that he misses his mother? This is why I always said I didn’t want to be a parent. I’m not equipped to handle messes like this, especially not alone.

Someone thumping on my front door crashes my pity party. I get up, wondering who would be stopping by to see me after eleven o’clock on a Tuesday night. Cracking the door open, expecting it to be someone who didn’t get the memo that the previous tenant moved out, I see my older brother’s imposing frame leaning against the door jamb.

“You going to let me in?” he asks, sounding a bit irritated with me. I suppose that’s understandable seeing as I’ve been going out of my way to avoid answering his calls. I open the door and detour to the kitchen as he looks around my new place. “Not bad, little brother. Gotta hand it to that girl of yours, she did a good job setting this up.”

“She’s not my girl,” I respond a little too quickly. I refill my glass and pour another for Braydon.

“Keep telling yourself that, Xavier,” he laughs.
He downs the whiskey in one swallow, reaching for the bottle. Apparently, it’s going to be one of
those
nights. “I’d be willing to bet you two are back together by Christmas.”

“Fuck, man! Alyssa hasn’t even been gone for two months and you’ve already got me back with Melanie in your mind. What is wrong with you?” I growl, annoyed by how close to the truth he is. But I can’t act on whatever I’m feeling because she’s not rebound material.

“There’s not a damned thing wrong with me. Look, I’m not saying you should jump into bed with her, but you’d have to be blind to not see how much she cares about the two of you.” Braydon gets comfortable in one of my living room chairs as I settle into the couch. “And I know you well enough to know that she’s the one that got away. As much as it sucks that Alyssa died, maybe this is how things were meant to be. You two were fucking idiots when you were together before, but you have something special.”

My brother has apparently been spending too much time with the girls that work for him. I’m not used to all of this touchy feely shit from him.

“It
sucks
that Alyssa is gone?” I crack my knuckles, barely holding onto my anger with how casually he made such a stupid comment. “That might just be the understatement of the fucking year. And how can you fucking say that this is how things are supposed to be?” I take a few deep breaths, worried that, if I don’t calm down, we’re going to wake Jacob. “Do you seriously mean to tell me that my son was
supposed
to get robbed of a lifetime with his mother? That’s fucking low, even for you!”

I storm into the kitchen, needing to put space between us before I knock Braydon flat on his ass. I’m pretty sure a domestic disturbance call wouldn’t be the best way to introduce myself to the neighbors.

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it,” Braydon seethes. He follows me, standing on the opposite side of the breakfast bar. He leans against the high counter, hanging his head. “Look, we all miss Al. Once she got her attitude in check, she was a pretty cool chick. It sucks that she’s gone. But
maybe
there is a reason that Melanie was the person assigned to take care of her for those last months. Do you think anyone else would have stuck around after the job was done, making sure that your rank ass didn’t do anything stupid? Would another nurse have followed you to North Carolina or called your son every night to read him bedtime stories?”

Fuck. I hate it when he’s right. Maybe I’m the one making things worse by repeatedly emphasizing the fact that she is my
friend
when I know we both feel something more there. But I can’t get over the feeling that I’m somehow betraying Alyssa by allowing myself to feel. Damn, apparently I’m the one who is a little fucking sissy now.

Before either of us can say another word, a shrill screech cuts through the air. I hit my side on the counter as I rush to my son’s room. Tears are streaming down his face as he cries for his mom. I fucking knew this was going to happen. I look around for his ‘magic bear’, the one Alyssa gave him right before she died. It’s nowhere to be found. I pull Jacob onto my lap, rubbing slow circles over his back as I rock him. Braydon’s standing in the doorway watching the two of us.

“I need you to call her,” I say, knowing I don’t have to tell him who. “I think his bear is in her car.”

Braydon disappears as I continue whispering soothing words in Jacob’s ear. The uncontrollably wailing turns into
stilted sobs and I can feel the tension leaving him. His breathing slows and I think he’s going back to sleep, but I’m proven wrong when he starts crying again. Louder this time.

“Why did Mommy leave us?” Jacob
cries, burying his face in my shirt. This is one of the few times he’s acknowledged that she’s actually gone and it doesn’t get easier as time passes. I’m not sure that it’ll ever be easy to listen to him cry, feeling as if he’s been abandoned by the woman who gave birth to him.

“I don’t know, buddy,” I sigh, unable to come up with any explanation that might make sense to his young mind. I’ve tried to avoid bringing up the fact that she was really sick and now she’s not because the one time I did, he freaked about what would happen if I got sick too. The truth is, every reason I could give him sucks. Alyssa was right, Jacob deserves to be raised by two parents, but that wasn’t in the cards.

The front door slams closed and Melanie races into the dark bedroom. “What’s going on?” she asks breathlessly, crouching beside the bed. She tries handing the bear to Jacob while he’s in my arms, but he lunges at her, wanting her embrace more than mine. I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t sting to know that she’s the one he wants to comfort him.

“My mommy…” he sobs, crushing his body to Melanie’s. “I asked her to stay, but she wouldn’t. She just kept walking away from me.” I look down to Melanie, somewhat relieved to know I’m not the only adult in the room crying. “Miss Melanie, why wouldn’t she even look at me?”

Melanie shifts so she’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the edge of the bed with Jacob across her lap. She gently rocks him from side to side, whispering into his hair. Braydon’s leaning in the doorframe, out of the way but close enough to make sure his nephew is okay. “Buddy, we talked about this, remember? You can’t see your mommy, but she’s still here with you. I’m sorry we forgot to grab Blaze out of my car.”

“It’s okay,” he says, his breathing still shaky as he calms down. Less than a minute in her arms and he’s over the worst of his dream. I’m beyond screwed. Melanie jerks her head toward the door, a silent request for me to give them some alone time. I bend down, giving each of them a kiss on their heads before slowly leaving the room.
When I reach the door and glance back, I am in awe of the woman who doesn’t even realize that she just ran through the apartment complex wearing nothing but a thin tank top and boxer shorts because my son needed her.

“You still want to tell me I’m wrong?” Braydon asks quietly as I close Jacob’s bedroom door. He’s sitting at one of the high barstools, scrubbing at his face with his palms. “That was fucking intense. I don’t know how in the hell you do it, bro.”

I don’t, that’s the problem. Not once in the past month have I been the person dealing with Jacob’s occasional bad dreams or the questions about his mom. Granted, there haven’t been that many, but if I was half the father he needs, I would be the one he comes to. I wonder if we’d still be dealing with him wailing at the top of his lungs if Melanie hadn’t rushed over here. Blaze might have helped calm him down, but it wasn’t a stuffed animal that stopped his tears, it was her.

I’ve been so focused on getting both of us through the most basic functions of living that I haven’t figured out how to handle the occasional crisis. And now that I’m living so close to Melanie, it would be far too easy for me to allow her to keep rescuing both of us on nights like this. I’m Jacob’s father. It’s my responsibility to
be the one who protects him from the scary dreams and monsters under his bed. Melanie can help me navigate my way through those scenarios, but I can’t keep letting her take over as I walk away.