0215543001348293036 vaughn piper oshea m.j. (5 page)

The sound of Rue’s voice pulled me out of my memories.

Wait, what was that? Did he just ask me something?
I cleared my throat and tried to focus. “Y-yes?”

“You write from home, right? You don’t have an outside job?” I felt my eyebrows draw together in confusion. How did he know what I did? I hadn’t told anyone except the land—ah, so that was probably it. My landlord must’ve told him. But why? What could it

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Piper Vaughn & M.J. O’Shea

matter to him what I did for a living? “Yeah, I… I write sci-fi. And fantasy.”

“That’s great!” Rue said with so much cheer I actually flinched.

“See, I’m kind of in a tight spot, and I was wondering if you—” A thin wail interrupted his words. My eyes jerked to the smiling pink car on the floor at his feet. The noise was coming from inside, growing louder and more agitated with every passing second. It reminded me of the cat that used to sit on our backyard fence yowling in the middle of the night when I still lived with my parents. But that didn’t make much sense. People didn’t normally bring their pets along on social visits, right? Besides, it didn’t sound like an animal exactly. It sounded like… Oh, no….

Sweat broke out on my forehead and palms as Rue sighed and reached down to the pink car. He tugged at the bottom, and as the material bunched, I realized it was some type of cover for one of those infant car seats with a handle. Nestled inside was a tiny, red-faced baby dressed entirely in pink, from the bow on her wispy hair to the soles of her miniature shoes. She was wearing one of those little one-piece outfits with an incongruous, grinning Jolly Roger on the front.

Underneath, the words “Arr! Swab me poop deck!” stood out in bold, black font.

“What’s the matter, sweetie pie?” Rue cooed, nestling the baby in the crook of his arm. He looked up and gave me an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I was sure she’d stay asleep.”

I couldn’t take my eyes from the pink bundle in his arms. The baby had quieted when Rue picked her up, though her expression could only be described as disgruntled. I edged a little further away on my chair. Being around babies had always unnerved me, even back when I was a kid. They were loud. Smelly. Weird-looking. I tried to restrain a shudder. It wasn’t that babies scared me, necessarily, but I’d admit to a certain amount of… anxiety.

“So, actually,” Rue said, apparently oblivious to my growing discomfort, “Alice is the reason I’m here. Like I was saying, I’m in a tight spot. I go back to school and work on Monday, and I need a sitter

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one small thing

for my daughter. I’ve looked into daycares around here, and I really can’t afford that kind of a bill, so I was just wondering—would you be able to watch her, maybe?”

I blinked. Opened my mouth. Closed it. Me? Babysit? Me, alone with a baby? I opened my mouth again, but my tongue felt heavy as cement and I couldn’t get it to move.

“I could pay you,” Rue rushed on. “I don’t really have a lot of extra money left over, but I could maybe do… um… four hundred a month?”

Still unable to speak, I shook my head.
No.
I couldn’t do it. It didn’t matter how much he paid me. I’d never even held a baby before.

And I never wanted to.
I can’t.

“Five hundred!” Rue was starting to sound desperate.

I shook my head again, finally finding my voice. “N-no, I—”

“She’s the sweetest little thing,” Rue said, and suddenly he was standing in front of me, and I found myself automatically accepting the soft, pink bundle he pressed into my arms. “Look at her. She’ll be good, I promise, and you’d be helping me out
so much
—” Horrified, I immediately tried to hand the baby back. She felt so tiny and fragile in my arms. I was scared I would drop her or hurt her without meaning to. Her unfocused blue eyes were on my face, and I couldn’t tell if she was looking at me or
through
me, but it made me so nervous a tremble started in my limbs. “No. No, I c-can’t.”

“It could be a temporary thing.” Rue’s expression was pleading.

“Just until I find something else. Please, I don’t really have any other options, and I
have
to go to school. I’m only a few months from finishing. If you could just—”

“I can’t d-do it,” I interrupted, holding the baby out to him until he finally stepped forward and took her from my arms. “I know I can’t.”

Rue frowned down at me. “Look, if this is about the money, I can try to—”

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Piper Vaughn & M.J. O’Shea

“N-not about that.” I got to my feet and gestured him toward the front door. I knew it was rude, but the sweat on my palms and the sudden surge in my heartbeat meant I was going to need some serious time in my chair. I didn’t want to freak out in front of him, but if he didn’t leave
really
soon…. “S-sorry, but I j-just can’t do it.” I could tell I’d disappointed him, but Rue didn’t say anything else. He just put the baby into her car seat and left the apartment without looking back.

The moment he was gone, I collapsed into my chair and rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. My breathing was a bit erratic, but a few minutes of running my fingers over the smooth leather armrests staved off any real panic. After a little while, I’d calmed enough to go back to
A New Hope
. I didn’t risk any more popcorn, just focused on the movie and tried not to think.

It worked. That is, it worked until I’d finished the movie and started getting ready for bed. On the way to the bedroom, I stopped to switch off the light in my office and caught a glimpse of the neat stack of mail piled high on the left-hand corner of my desk. There were bills in that pile. Bills I’d been putting off while I waited for my next royalty check to come in. And some of them were already past due.

I swallowed hard. An extra five hundred dollars a month could
really
come in handy. But no. I couldn’t do it. I’d never be able to cope if the baby got hysterical. I could barely manage myself sometimes, let alone some miniature person whose sole method of communication was crying. How would I know what she wanted? How would I keep her happy? What if I had to drive her somewhere? And she was screaming.

And I couldn’t concentrate. Oh God, what if I crashed? What if—?

No! No. I’ll find another way to pay the bills. I’ll find another
way.

But five hundred dollars would sure be nice.

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one small thing

Chapter 3

Rue

I SLAMMED the door to my apartment. A little dramatic, and it made Alice cry, but damn, it felt good. What did that dumb, sports drink-chugging,
Star Wars
-obsessed shut-in know anyway? He just couldn’t do it because I really,
really
needed him to? I wanted to growl and scratch something.

I wasn’t too distracted by being pissed to realize I was in the same position I’d been in that morning, and every morning for the past three days. I was still out of a sitter, no hope for a solution in sight… and on top of that I was currently in a god-awful, bitchy-ass mood. I picked up my squalling infant from her car seat and rocked her against my chest, hoping my mood didn’t somehow transfer to her.

“Papa loves you, sweetie. I’m sorry I was loud.” I crooned at her after that, no actual words, just comforting murmurs peppered with kisses on her fuzzy little head. I reached over to my stereo and switched on the classical station. I’d noticed in the few short days I’d had Alice that the music seemed to soothe her. It took me a while, but I got her calmed and settled in her little bed, all covered by the blanket she’d had since the hospital.

“Sleep for a while, love.” I shut the light off in the frilly princess palace that was my second bedroom and ex-closet (I’d really loved living alone for that one reason) and retreated back across the hall to

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Piper Vaughn & M.J. O’Shea

the comforting familiarity of my own room. Black sheets, black bedspread and lampshades. The curtains and throw pillows were purple and bright blue, but there wasn’t a ruffle or drop of baby-pink in sight. I had to admit I’d let Dusty go a little overboard with the girly stuff. Too late for that now. I kicked off my flip-flops and capris and went for my favorite pajama bottoms and tank. Then I shoved my clothes into my now crammed, over-full dresser and went out to the couch to lounge.

I wished I had a bucket of sand to stick my head in. I supposed the TV would have to be the next best thing. I sat there forever, going through episode after episode of
Sex and the City
,
Gossip Girl
,
The
OC
—all my favorite shows with pretty people and even prettier designer clothes. Alice woke after a while, and I changed her, then brought her out to the living room to cuddle with me. She drank most of her bottle while we were watching Carrie get her heart stomped on by Big
uh-gain
, burped a few times, and fell asleep in my arms. Again.

I marveled at how much babies slept. It seemed like all she did was sleep and eat… oh, and eject disgusting things from both ends of her tiny little body at regular intervals. I had no idea where she stored it all. I was looking forward to the day when she could take care of all of that herself. Eventually, I passed out myself with Alice on my chest and the TV at a comfortingly low level in the background. I woke up at around two when Alice did her customary middle of the night opera show.

We waltzed around the apartment for a while until I had her calmed down again, then I took her into her room and changed her before laying her down in her crib and petting the bridge of her velvety nose until she fell back to sleep. I had no idea why she liked the nose thing, but she did. I’d noticed right away it seemed to calm her down.

Then I dragged myself into my room and crawled in bed. All I wanted to do was pull the covers over my head and hope the next day (or even worse, the next week) never came.

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one small thing

BUT the next day did come, and with it all of the problems I’d had the day before. New baby, no daycare, class on Monday, and, well… I was screwed. Period.

I fired up my computer and made a sign: Childcare Wanted—

$500 a month. The cat lady’s apartment wasn’t that bad, come to think of it, just a bit furry. And maybe George from across the hall would be willing to change up his schedule for a bit of extra cash.
Someone
in my building would want to watch Alice. I hoped. I added my contact information at the bottom and made a copy for the laundry room, the bulletin board in the front hall, and a third to slip under my neighbor’s door. As odd as he was, I
liked
him. And I thought my baby might as well. I’d even gone as far as calling Rick to ask some more questions about him. I’d confirmed that his prior landlord’s reference had, in fact, been good. Erik was an ideal tenant—responsible, quiet, clean—but the man had put all of his properties on the market, and Erik couldn’t afford to buy. So his move to our building hadn’t been brought about by anything bad on his part, aside from not having enough money to take on a mortgage.

I waited all day for my phone to ring, for an email, a knock on the door.

Nothing.

So I took a big red permanent marker, tromped down to the main hall, and slashed angrily through the words on the paper. Childcare Wanted—$600 a month. I changed the one in the laundry room as well and, just for good measure, taped one on every door in my hallway.

Nothing.

Much more, and I would be getting close to daycare prices. How about six fifty, people? Seven? I knew there was a stay-at-home mom on the third floor. Surely one more baby wouldn’t matter
that
much, would it? Seven fifty. Christ, that was almost as much as rent on the lower floors. Someone had to do it. Seven fifty was more than the price of Wee Care. But I wasn’t sending her to that place. My baby
couldn’t
go to that place. I’d do whatever was necessary to make sure of that, even if it meant taking on extra hours at the Tom Tom.

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Piper Vaughn & M.J. O’Shea

I made fresh, pretty signs for the hallway and the laundry room advertising my new
(cringe)
rate. Out of some form of petty prissiness, I put one under Gatorade’s door too.
Just think of how much toxic
sludge juice you could buy with that much more money a month!

IT WAS the day before I had to start class again. My short reprieve was over, and I had a choice looming. I could either quit school and admit I had no future beyond bartender and ridiculous flirt, or take my precious baby to the Wee Care Institute for Youngsters, where she was sure to pick up cholera, gangrene, scabies, and Lord knows what else. I hated both of those choices for her and for me. She needed a father with a real career, not some over-the-hill club boy, and I needed to know she was safe and healthy every day when I was out trying to get that career.