He scanned the room for his phone again, desperation clawing at his stomach.
Nicole remained frozen in the doorway, ready to spring.
“Nikki,” he said, dropping his voice. “Let it go. It’s over.”
Her shoulders sagged. Her arms dropped to her sides.
He nodded. “There you go.” He didn’t relax his own position, though. “Is he on his way?” he asked, his throat tight.
She nodded. Tears dribbled from her eyes.
“Good. Go get your things in the bedroom,” he said. “I’ll watch for him and let you know when he gets here.”
Still nodding, Nicole turned and shuffled into the bedroom.
Max let out a ragged breath. His body shook. He kissed Chloe’s cheeks, the action probably more soothing to him than it was to her. “Daddy’s not letting anything happen to you, you hear me?” he whispered to her.
She patted his face with her hands. “Ouchies,” she said softly. She leaned forward, her lips puckered, and kissed the scratches on his face.
Tears burned his eyes. He had been stupid. He had let his own fantasies and desires get in the way of keeping his daughter safe. Swallowing hard, Max ran a hand through her hair.
Never again
, he promised himself. Unbuckling her, he lifted his daughter from the high chair. Wrapping one arm protectively around her, he padded toward the hall.
A horn blared outside. Without looking out the window, he called to Nicole in the bedroom. “He’s here.”
She emerged, a bag slung over her shoulder. Without turning around, she walked toward the front door. She opened it, slipped through, and disappeared into the grey January day.
Crossing the hall, Max locked the door behind her. Sagging to the floor, he cuddled Chloe to his chest.
A cold cup of coffee sat untouched in front of Max at the kitchen table. Colder grey light filtered in through the window. Snow shook down from the tree branches. Flakes danced and swirled in the wind, fallout from the storm the night before. Max zipped up his hoodie all the way and hunched his shoulders. His landlord swore that nothing was wrong with the furnace, but the entire apartment felt like an ice chest. Glancing at the time on his phone, Max scrunched his forehead into a frown.
Nicole was fifteen minutes late to pick up Chloe, which meant that even if she pulled up in the next five minutes, Max would still be late for class. He buried his head in his arms, hunching over the table. Sighing into the tight, dark space, Max closed his eyes. No matter what he did, everything blew up in his face. The last time that Nicole picked up Chloe, she had been ten minutes late, and swore she wouldn’t let it happen again. Max was beginning to think that she was doing it on purpose, to spite him.
He was at her mercy. Riley helped babysit when she could, but she was only available a couple of days a week. He just couldn’t seem to find a babysitter that he could trust. Reason and experience told him that, technically, he couldn’t trust Nicole. She had sworn that she was in therapy and on medication, but all of the SSRIs in the world wouldn’t make her arrive on time. His next step was to try one of those babysitter websites, but he wouldn’t be able to find anyone fast enough to cover for her.
Max let his forehead rest on the sticky table. His shoulders slumped in defeat. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for being a dad. Maybe he should have let Nicole give Chloe up for adoption. He tried to imagine life without his daughter, though, and couldn’t. None of his problems were her fault. She deserved a better life. He needed to stop thinking about what might happen and focus his energy on figuring things out.
Taking a deep breath, he lifted his head from the table. Rubbing at the sticky spot on his face, he considered his options again. With Nicole twenty minutes late, there was no way that he would make it in time. He didn’t have time to find anyone else, either. He definitely couldn’t afford to miss class. Midterms were right around the corner, and Max needed all of the lecture time he could get. He lowered his hands from his face, pressing his fingers together and pulling them apart. Something tacky and brown—probably old maple syrup—coated his fingertips.
He groaned. If he was late to any of his exams, his professors probably wouldn’t let him take them. He would fail or have to figure out a make-up date. Standing from the table, he went to the sink. Lathering up soap, he washed his hands and face. If he still lived with his mother, there wouldn’t be random sticky spots on his table. On his own, everything was falling apart.
Straightening from the sink, Max grinned. He sprang from the kitchen and darted into the living room. On his way to the door, he scooped up Chloe, still dressed in her snow suit. He jogged outside, keys jingling in his hand. He locked the door behind him, carried Chloe to the Taurus, and strapped her in. Then he ran around to his side and turned the car on.
The roads were still slick from the storm, the deep temperatures turning the snowfall from the night before into ice. The Taurus slipped and slid, and Max lowered his speed. Every so often, he glanced at the time on the dashboard. He ground his teeth at every light he stopped at. Every second made him later and later for class.
Finally, he pulled up in front of his parents’ house. Leaving the engine running, he jumped out and unstrapped Chloe from her car seat. His sneakers fought for purchase on the slick sidewalk. Although his father had shoveled, sanded, and salted it, ice clung to the bottoms of Max’s sneakers. He wished he could afford boots for himself. Breathless, he rang the doorbell. Then, he pushed the door open and poked his head inside.
“Ma,” he called, lowering Chloe to the floor. He kissed her cool cheeks. “I’m late for class. Nicole bailed on me. Chloe’s here. I love you!” Kissing his daughter again, he whispered to her, “Be good for Grandma, okay?” Then he bounded out the door before his mother could object.
Adrenaline pumped through him as he raced to campus. Route 69 looked like it had been sanded several times over, and he deemed it worth the risk. He pushed the Taurus up every hill, speeding through Prospect, Bethany, and Woodbridge. As the Taurus nosed its way into New Haven, Max began to relax a little.
Then he hit traffic.
Slamming the palms of his hands on the steering wheel, Max swore. It figured. Even with icy roads, cars still crammed the New Haven roads. It didn’t matter that rush hour had ended two hours earlier. People still flooded the city, most of them students or workers with odd hours. Many of them were on their way to New York City. Gritting his teeth, Max eased the Taurus forward as the light changed to green. He passed the on ramp for Route 15 and swerved as an SUV jumped out in front of him.
“Drifter!” he shouted at it through his window. The SUV sped away toward the city, tires squealing. The hot air from the heaters drowned out his voice. Max scowled and eased the Taurus forward, toward the university. He was half an hour late to class.
* * * * *
When he got out of class, he had five missed calls and ten text messages—all from his mother. Smirking, he headed toward the parking garage where he left the Taurus. Even though it wasn’t far from the building, the walk was frigid. Looking up at the sky, the sun nestled behind layers and layers of grey clouds, Max guessed that the day wouldn’t be warming up any more.
His sneakers squeaked against the concrete, wet from hundreds of students and tires tracking in snow and ice. As he reached the Taurus, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it free, he slid into the car and pressed the phone to his ear.
“Hey, Mom,” he said.
“Don’t you
dare
ever pull a stunt like that on me again. Do you understand, young man? I was upstairs with the vacuum running. I had no idea Chloe was even here until I came downstairs and found her standing in my living room, still wearing that snow suit. Do you know that it’s almost eighty degrees in here? Your father always has the thermostat way up because of his blood thinners. Are you even listening to me, Max?”
Pressing his lips together to keep from bursting out laughing, Max backed out of his parking spot and headed out of the garage. “Yes, Mom,” he managed after a moment. “Thanks for watching Chloe.”
“You can
not
do this to me, Max. It’s rude, it’s disrespectful, and it’s not fair to me or Chloe. She has no toys here, I had nothing in the house that she would eat. I had to go shopping, Max. Shopping!”
“I really appreciate you watching your granddaughter while I went to class, Mom,” he said, turning onto the main road that led from Southern Connecticut State University to Route 69.
“Don’t do that,” his mother said.
“Do what?” Max asked, easing the Taurus past a line of cars parallel parked in front of shops in the right-hand lane. Someday, he mused, the city of New Haven would either add a No Parking sign or turn the lane into actual parking spots.
He could practically hear the steam coming out of his mother’s ears. “Max Alexander Batista,” she said, her voice dropping to a low growl. “You come straight to this house and pick up my granddaughter.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Max said. “I didn’t realize that dropping her off without asking you would be such an inconvenience.” He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, his knuckles turning white.
“Let it go,” his mother said. “How was I supposed to know that Nicole had a boyfriend?”
“She was pregnant and tried to pass it off as mine!” Max practically screamed into the phone. “The least you could do is watch Chloe for me once in a while. She’s your granddaughter.”
Betty sighed. “Max, someday you will thank me for this. It’s not my responsibility to watch your child. You took this obligation upon yourself the moment you stepped up and took full custody of Chloe. Did you honestly think that we were going to raise her for you?”
Max shook his head. “I can’t believe you. I’m not asking you to do that. I’m asking for your help. All of my brothers got to live at home while they were in their undergraduate programs. What makes me so different?” He blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. He hated to feel like such a baby. Resentment washed over him.
“Max, I am sixty-seven years old. I’ve raised five boys, all while helping your father build the law firm. I am
tired
. Is it so wrong that I want to do something for myself?”
“Whatever,” he said. “I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and tossed his phone onto the passenger’s seat. Eyebrows furrowing, he pressed down harder on the gas pedal, wondering when things would finally start to go his way.
* * * * *
Max slammed the front door of his parents’ house behind him, Chloe tucked under one arm. He stomped toward the Taurus, his breath coming out in small puffs, visible in the frigid air. He hadn’t expected his father to be home, or for Alexander Batista to back his mother up. It just wasn’t fair. They didn’t care that he was struggling to get through school while working and raising Chloe. They didn’t care that his brothers practically had everything handed to them when they were growing up. He wondered what made him so different. Maybe, he surmised, if he hadn’t had Chloe, his parents would treat him differently.
Still, he mused as he strapped her into her car seat, he wouldn’t trade her for anything. She placed a tiny hand on his cheek, her soft fingers running over the stubble on his face.
“Daddy,” she asked in a sing-song voice, “can I have a cookie and chocolate milk?”
Max smiled. Ever since he had taken Chloe with him to interview Savannah, she had been asking for more chocolate milk from the coffee shop. The thought of Savannah sent a sharp pang through his chest. Sighing, he pushed her out of his mind. What was done was done. “Yeah, we can go to the coffee shop,” he said, closing her door. He needed to get some studying done, anyway, and the thought of sitting in his cold, empty apartment was too depressing. He needed to be around people—people who weren't his parents.
He wished Riley could go with him, but she was working a double at the department store. He wondered when his friendship with her had begun to drift. She had enough hours to move out of her parents’ house, yet still refused to move in with him. He knew that people eventually grew apart, especially as they got older, but it still stung. Perhaps it was because she had been his biggest cheerleader when Nicole got pregnant with Chloe, but Max had always assumed that they would be best friends forever.
He shook his head and got into the driver’s seat. So far, he was starting to feel like nothing lasted.
Sighing, he headed toward the coffee shop. He needed to stop being so gloomy. His rent for the month was paid, even though he was living off of ramen and Chloe was eating cereal and hot dogs every day. The semester was almost halfway over, and then he would have the entire summer off. He could work as many hours as possible and take Chloe on all kinds of adventures.
As he neared the coffee shop, he decided to try one of the babysitter websites. Most of the sitters there were CPR-certified or had at least taken some kind of babysitting course. According to their commercials, there were hundreds of babysitters available. There had to be at least one that he and Chloe would like.
He pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. Grabbing his backpack and lifting Chloe from her car seat, Max headed inside. The first thing he was going to do after he ordered his coffee and Chloe’s chocolate milk, he decided, was check out one of the babysitter websites from his phone. Then he needed to hit the books—especially if he was going to pass his midterms.
“Nana,” Chloe said, pointing.
“Yeah, I’ll get you a banana,” he said, eyes scanning the menu. He needed caffeine, but nothing so strong that he would be up all night. He needed to get
some
sleep.
“No, Nana,” Chloe said. She squirmed in his arms.
“Relax,” he said, shifting her to his other hip.
She twisted and slipped out of his arms, landing on two feet. Arms stretched out, she toddled away. “Nana!”
Eyes widening, Max dropped his backpack to the ground and darted after her. “Chloe, no, come back here!” His heart pounded in his chest as she ran farther from him. Judgmental eyes followed him as he chased her through the coffee shop, the onlookers
tsk
ing in disapproval. He caught up to Chloe and scooped her from the floor. “You have to stay with Daddy,” he said, hugging her to his chest. “Someone could take you.” He sucked in a deep breath, adrenaline still coursing through his body.
“Nana,” Chloe said in response. She pointed again.
Max realized he was standing in front of someone’s table. He opened his mouth to apologize, then the pile of sketchbooks and colored pencils caught his eye. Sugar skulls decorated the pages, bright colors jumping out at him from the stark white paper. Savannah sat at the table, a pencil grasped between her fingers, her hand poised above the page.
His heart hammered in his chest. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and swallowed hard. He turned to leave, the back of his neck burning. He didn’t really need to spend the money on overpriced beverages, anyway. Chloe would just have to live without her treat. Besides, it was almost dinner time.
“Hey,” Savannah said. “Hi, Chloe.”
“Nana!” Chloe reached out for Savannah.
“No, Chloe, she’s busy,” Max said. “Sorry,” he apologized again.
“It’s okay,” Savannah said. Her eyes did not meet his, though. “I’ve missed her. How are you,
caralinda
?”
Twisting and wriggling, Chloe stretched her arms out again. Relenting, Max let her down. She ran toward Savannah and threw herself into the young woman’s arms. Warmth surged through Max, washed over by a twinge of sadness. Savannah plucked Chloe from the floor and hugged her to her chest, covering her face with kisses. Chloe laughed, kissing Savannah back. The two remained embraced, Savannah’s eyes closed as she rocked Chloe. Max lowered his eyes to the floor, blinking away tears. He had totally messed up.