Then There Was You (4 page)

“All right, man. Peace.” Tommy flipped me off, smiling as he stepped out the doorway.

I chucked an unopened condom packet toward Jeremy. “Don’t forget your raincoat,” I warned him as he headed out the door behind Tommy.

He caught the tiny plastic square in midair. “I never do.” He winked, and then he was gone.

I threw my hands behind my head and watched television absently, not giving a shit what was actually on.

I had almost dozed off when a familiar chime from my phone indicated a text. I swiped my finger across the screen, smiling at the words that popped up from an unknown number.

Yes, to dinner. Let me know when and where. –Salem

Without hesitation I typed my response.
Tomorrow. Acropolis Grill. 8pm. I look forward to it.

She immediately replied.
Can’t wait!

A goofy grin plastered my face. I read her final text over and over as I walked toward the shower. Flipping on the bathroom light, I kicked off my shoes and tossed my jeans and T-shirt at the chair in the corner. I plugged my phone into its charger on the counter and started the water in the shower.

Standing under the hot stream, I let the water run over my body and hoped it would rinse my troubles down the drain with it. I couldn’t seem to focus on what to do next because my mind was a wreck, but I finally managed to lather up and rinse. I hopped out, dug through my suitcase for a fresh pair of boxers, and settled down into the bed, throwing the sheet over my body. In my newfound solace I lay there, quietly staring at the ceiling in the darkness.

My mind drifted, but not to its usual place. Instead, a set of pale green eyes crept into my thoughts. I closed my eyes, attempting to fall asleep while my imagination lingered on a woman whose hand I’d touched in the crowd tonight—a woman who changed my world so many years ago.

“Good grief,” I growled as I jerked the blanket off of my body and rolled out of bed. Alexis’s crying had jarred me awake for the third time that night. “Dammit, why won’t she just stay asleep?” I grumbled as I shook my fists toward the heavens and stomped toward my doorway.

The bedroom was still dark. Eerie moonlight cast shadows on the walls. Groggily staggering toward the sound of Alexis’s wails, I accidentally bumped my shoulder into the door frame as I trudged past it. “Ow,” I said, rubbing the tender spot with my hand.

It had been nearly twelve weeks since I’d slept more than an hour or two at a time. Since Alexis’s birth nearly three months ago, I felt like a walking zombie. The longer I went without sleep, the more resentful I became. My twitching eyelid was proof that lack of sleep does crazy things to your mind and body. I was a pressure cooker about to blow my top. It didn’t help that it was my last night to get some sleep before my first day back to work from maternity leave.

I slammed my palm against the wall just before my hand landed on the doorknob of Alexis’s room. “Why? Why, why, why, why?” I moaned as I turned the knob.

The soft scent of lavender invaded my nostrils the instant I opened the door. Someone once told me that lavender soothed babies and helped them sleep better, so I’d always bathed Alexis with that particular scented baby soap. I was beginning to think that was all a myth. She wailed from her crib like someone was killing her while I gripped the railing, peering down at the writhing bundle.

“What’s wrong now, Alexis?” I pleaded with her. The tickle in the back of my throat forewarned me of the tears that were starting to form in my eyes. “Don’t you understand that Mommy needs rest? I can’t be a good mommy if you don’t let me sleep.”

She stopped crying and opened those beautiful, blue eyes. She looked at me with wide-eyed infant wonder. Her flailing arms and legs stilled for just a moment. Then she smiled at me and began flailing again, only happily this time, as if to say, “Yay, mommy’s here!”

I grinned back. “You little booger,” I whispered, picking her up and patting her back. Immediately, a loud burp escaped her, and she hiccupped. “Is that better?” I cooed, bouncing her gently in my arms.

She answered with her own tiny coo and laid her head on my shoulder. I plopped down in the recliner next to her crib. I knew she didn’t need to eat. I’d just fed her an hour earlier. Clicking the nightlight off, I began rocking her.

In my twenty-four years of life, I’d never anticipated the overwhelming feeling I would get when I’d cuddle my baby in my arms until the moment the doctor handed her to me in the delivery room. In an instant, my whole world changed as I embraced my little miracle in my arms. On nights like these, the moment we settled down together in the rocking chair, my anger and frustration would vanish as I’d peer down at my precious angel and watch her stare at me with wonder. I couldn’t believe that in a single second I could go from hating the drudgery of motherhood to cherishing the quiet moments of snuggling my sweet girl in my arms.

I sang a few lullabies and within minutes, she was sound asleep again. It didn’t take long for me to doze off as well. It also didn’t take long for my back to start aching, forcing me to wake up again. I imagined my husband taking up most of the bed in our room. Usually his body miraculously sensed when I got out of bed because by the time I made it back, I’d have to shove him over to be able to climb back into my side. God, I despised him sometimes.

He’d wake up in the morning and say, “Good morning. How did you guys sleep last night?” He’d ask that as if I were the only one on the clock at midnight.
Hello. He’s the father. He should take a shift every now and then.
In the past few weeks, I’d tried to wake him up, but he’d just grunt, roll over and put a pillow over his head instead.

Life with a baby was nothing like what I’d expected. It was grueling, menial work with little reward. No one warned me how difficult having a child really was. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. I knew that newborns didn’t sleep well for the first few weeks, but I had no idea that sleepless nights would last so long. It was really starting to mess with my head.

I was a counselor for Christ’s sake. I should’ve been able to get a handle on the depression that was suffocating me. I should’ve been able to talk to myself like I did my clients and snap out of it. That’s just it. I had always thought depression was a matter of ‘snapping out of it’ until my own depression overtook me. Now I realized how foolish I was to think that.

Parenting just flat out sucks sometimes.

Then I peered down at my beautiful, sweet baby with chubby cheeks and wispy hair sleeping soundly in my arms, and I immediately beat myself up internally for thinking that.

She’s amazing and perfect in every way, Salem. How dare you think she’s ruined your life!

Geez, what is wrong me?

Carefully, I laid Alexis down in her crib and swaddled the plush pink blanket around her like a cocoon.
Please, God, let her sleep
, I thought to myself as I tiptoed out of her room.

As suspected, I had to shove my husband back over onto his side of the bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I looked at the clock. Large, digital numbers taunted me with their burning red lights, reminding me of just what little time I had left to rest. 4:16 AM.
Kill me now.

I’d barely fallen into a deep slumber when I heard Dixie barking down the hall.
What. The. Hell?

I scrambled out of bed and poked my head into the hallway. “Shut up, Dixie,” I hissed.

The stupid mongrel continued barking at the beam of lights that poured through the windows, reflecting on the wall. The newspaper delivery guy was making his rounds. “It’s just the newspaper, Dixie. Shhhh.”

I swear, if I could’ve gotten to her fast enough, I would’ve delivered a swift kick to her black, Labradoodle behind. But I couldn’t, and before I knew it, I heard the familiar, disheartening shrill of Alexis’s cries coming from her bedroom.

I glanced back at the clock. 4:48 AM.

“Dammit!” I yelled and kicked the wall, immediately regretting it as the pain shot through my toes.

Needless to say, my first morning back to work following maternity leave didn’t exactly start out smoothly.

“Good morning,” I said flatly, glancing up at my first case. I really did love my job, but with only two hours of good solid sleep under my belt each and every night for twelve weeks straight, I was barely functioning.

On many of those long, exhausting days with Alexis, I had been eager to get back to work. I was ready to get back into some sort of a routine. I’d started working at Fairbanks a month before I found out I was pregnant. It was my first real job straight out of grad school. Graham balked at the idea of me working for a juvenile justice center. He worried it might be too dangerous, but I was drowning in student loans and counseling jobs were scarce, so when a great job with good benefits came along, I jumped at the opportunity.

Fairbanks was an all-male juvenile justice center serving a five county radius. It was a fairly large facility with several cell blocks. Each block had at least one or two counselors and supervisor. I worked in cell Block-A, seeing kids one-on-one and in group settings. At times, it was overwhelming, but it could also be incredibly rewarding. I was eager to get back into it.

I felt slightly guilty dropping Alexis off at the babysitter that morning. It was the first time Alexis had spent time with a sitter, but I’d known Mrs. Betty for years, so I knew she was in good hands. Mrs. Betty treated all her daycare children like her own. She was a sweet lady who could calm a screaming baby to sleep in a matter of seconds. She was what I would deem “The Baby Whisperer.” Alexis would be just fine. Besides, I could never admit it to anyone, but deep down, I was ready for a break. I was in no rush to get back home. Going home just reminded me of how much my life had changed in the past three months. I never knew in all of my twenty-four years just how much I’d appreciate going to work. It was nice to get away from the house for a change of pace.

“Mornin’.” The dark haired, brown-eyed teen shuffled his feet into my office and plopped down in the chair. His sullen eyes stared at the floor.

I glanced down at his chart.
Chris King.

“Chris, right? It says here you came from East Jenkins.”

“Yeah.” Clenching his teeth, his jaw twitched. I must’ve struck a nerve by mentioning his school. But besides his jaw, he didn’t move a muscle.

“Well, Chris, I’m Salem Honeycutt.” I reached out to shake his hand, but he didn’t budge. “I will be your counselor while you are here at Fairbanks. You’ll be visiting me at least three times a week.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes, sliding his feet across the floor out in front of him. Slouching in his chair, he folded his arms across his chest. The gray jumpsuit he wore was far too baggy, and the state-issued, black beanie sat low on his brow with a few sprigs of brown hair flipping out from under it. He glared at me with his deep, espresso-colored eyes. Frustration and annoyance were evident in his expression. “Whatever,” he groaned.
Hmmm, tough nut to crack.

Fresh out of grad school and still green with experience, I nervously shuffled through the papers in his file. In the few months that I’d been at Fairbanks, I’d learned very quickly that the kids here weren’t as eager to participate as the children at Over the Rainbow Play Therapy Center where I’d spent the last semester of my internship.

“Looks like this isn’t your first time here.”

“It’s not,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Sorry.” I gave him an apologetic smile. “You’ll have to bear with me. It’s my first day back to work from maternity leave. I’m not familiar with all of my new clients, and I’m still trying to wake up.”

“Congratulations on your new baby,” he grumbled, sounding about as happy for me as I was at four in the morning.

“Thanks,” I replied with the same lack of exuberance.

“I’m not crazy, you know,” he muttered, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I never said you were. Counseling is just a part of the detention process. Everyone has to do it, crazy or not.” I smiled at him, hoping to make him a feel a little more comfortable. I wanted him to know that I was on his side.