It’s been two days. Two freaking days since I’ve talked to Charleigh. I have no idea what she’s thinking or doing. It’s definitely not because I haven’t tried getting a hold of her either. My phone has never been on the verge of dying as much as it has since she stormed out of my truck.

Texts, calls, voicemails…they all go unanswered. I’ve done everything short of showing up on her doorstep. The idea crossed my mind. As in, I was looking to see what flower shops were open at nine at night. But, Tonya and Reaf talked me out of it. They said it would backfire.

Honestly, I’m pretty sure Tonya thought it was hilarious how much of an ass I’m willing to make of myself for a girl. But Charleigh isn’t just a girl. She’s so much more. Funny, smart, talented, and always positive. Even when other people are jerks to her. I just hope she’ll give me a chance to apologize.

Tonya suggested I wait a few days before I show up anywhere she may be, which is why I’m slowly driving by Life in Ink. I can’t see her through all the people in the chairs.

She wasn’t kidding when she said they’ve been crazy busy. A lot of the success comes from the fact that her uncle promoted her from apprentice to artist. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t put two and two together, but she’s the reason they run out of appointments. Word of mouth travels fast when the employees are amazing, and that she is.

The next street will lead me to the highway or another street to go around the block again. I pause, debating which way to go. When the light turns green, I take a right, leading me back to Asheville. I don’t really want to show up at her work to talk to her. That’s her territory, and quite frankly, I’m slightly terrified of her uncle.

* * *

“Thank you, Mrs. Foster,” I say as she hands me a bottle of water from the fridge. “I hope I’m not intruding by staying here.”

“Not at all,” she clasps my shoulder. “You and the other boys are practically my other children.”

The day my mother humiliated Charleigh, I went home long enough to grab some extra clothes and came straight here. This feels more like home than anywhere else. And…I didn’t know where else to go.

“It won’t be permanent,” I promise. It’s not the Fosters’ job to help me get on my feet, but I’m beyond grateful that they’re helping in any way they can.

“Oh, sweetie. You stay as long as you need to.”

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I nod. What do I say to that?

A few weeks ago, I put in an application for a job in sales. I’ve never had to work in my life, but it’s time. I need a way to provide for my daughter and find a place to live. They haven’t called me back yet, and I’m wondering if I should stop hoping on this one job.

I haven’t even told Tonya that I plan on transferring to a university closer to home yet. Possibly even the local college. I don’t even care if I can play football, as long as I’m here for Layla whenever she may need me. It may be a difficult road to go down, but she is worth it.

And, I’ll be close to Charleigh. If she’ll ever speak to me again. If she reacted like that toward my mom’s comments, how is she going to accept that I have a child? I’m not saying that her reaction to Mom is unjustified because it is, but I can handle not seeing my parents. I can’t handle not seeing Layla. Now that I’m starting to build a relationship with her, I can’t go back to the way I was before. I won’t go back to being that douchebag.

The water bottle is ice cold, sweat already dripping down the sides, as I stand to go to Marshall’s room. Before I leave the kitchen, I turn back to Mrs. Foster. “Hey, Mrs. Foster,” I ask. “Does Mr. Foster happen to know of anyone that’s hiring?”

She places her fingertips on her chin thinking. “You know, he mentioned the other day they were looking to bring on a couple more apprentices. The work is hard, but I think you would do just fine.”

Plumbing is definitely not something I want to make a career out of, but I don’t think working with Mr. Foster would be horrible. It’s honest work, and something that may be good for me. My parents never really cared for The Fosters because they see their jobs as something beneath them. From the outside looking in, I can see how horribly flawed and snobby they really are. I’ll do everything in my power not to turn out like them

“Thank you,” I pause. “I put in a couple of applications around town, and I haven’t heard back from anybody. But, I really need a job.” My voice is a little shakey, worry creeping in. I really need any sort of job.

“I completely understand, Jake.” Her eyes are shimmering, looking at me with a softness that only a mother can. A tinge of sympathy, but also a spark of pride because I’m doing something about my situation. It’s the way I wish my mother would look at me sometimes.

Marshall is sitting at his desk, feet propped up next to the computer with a copy of Beowulf in his hands. He doesn’t even bother looking at me when I come the room and make my way to the little cot they pulled out of the garage so I would have a place to sleep.

The cot is ridiculously uncomfortable. There is no support, just a piece of fabric stretched across the frame to hold my body up. Marshall smirks at me from behind his book.

“What’s so funny, jackass?”

“Nothing,” he laughs. “You just look funny on that thing. How does your body even fit on there?”

The frame squeaks as I move to find a more comfortable position. “Very, very carefully.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t just sleep on the sofa like a normal person.”

“Because,” I reply. “I don’t want to interfere with your family more than I already have. I feel like a huge inconvenience.”

Marshall sets his book down, placing a bookmark between the pages before he lets go of the cover. “How many times have I told you that it’s fine you’re here? If it were in any way inconvenient, my parents wouldn’t have let you stay.” He rolls his chair away from the desk. “They look at you as one of their sons. Do you think they would turn me away in a time of need?” He waits for my response and when I only stare at him, he continues. “No, they wouldn’t. So, stop moping and welcome to the damn family.”

“I get that, but it’s still weird.” I cover my face with my hands, take a deep breath in, and slowly let it out. “I just feel really shitty, and like I can’t do anything right. Charleigh won’t talk to me. My parents treat me like an asset instead of a child, and I can’t do anything right in their eyes.” Placing my hand on my stomach, I take another deep breath, using this moment to cleanse myself of everything that’s bothering me. “The only person who is ever happy to see me is Layla, and that’s because she’s not old enough to know any better. It’s only a matter of time until I screw up and let her down.”

A cheesy grin takes over his face, and he bats his eyelashes at me. “I’m happy to see you,” he says. His voice is high pitched, trying to mimic a girl’s, but he’s failing miserably.

This is why he’s my closest friend. He does whatever he can to cheer me up, even when I feel like I don’t deserve it. We have a friendship as close as the one Tonya and Cami have, and I’m more than grateful for that.

“How about…you don’t make eyes at me again,” I say, laughing.

“Why?” He bats his lashes again. “Do you not find me attractive?”

“You aren’t exactly my type.”

“Well, what is your type?” He’s digging. He wants me to admit that I have deeper feelings for Charleigh than I’ve admitted to everyone else but myself.

“Last time I checked, you don’t have long blonde hair, or ink on your arms and in other places most people don’t get to see.”

He lifts the sleeve of his shirt showing off the tattoos Bianca has done for him. “I may not be blonde, but I do have the ink.” He winks. The sleeve of his shirt falls, covering his new obsession with tattoos. “You need to call her.”

“I’ve tried. She’s not answering.” My phone is in my back pocket, digging into my hip. I pull it out, staring at the screen wondering if I should try one more time. Focusing on the take, I do a double take. “Shit,” I yell.

Marshall looks over at me, not knowing whether there’s bad news on my screen or if I’m continuing my pity party. “What’s wrong, man?”

“I’m supposed to meet Tonya and Reaf at a park in Dallas. They want to get a few pictures done for their engagement, and I offered to watch Layla so we can get some one on one time.”

“Mind if I tag along, I won’t be in the way,” he asks. “I need to get out of this house. That book I’m reading for one of my literature classes next semester is crazy boring. I can barely keep my eyes open while trying to get through the first few chapters.”

The legs of the cot slide across the floor as I stand, grabbing my keys off the nightstand between our beds. “Sure, you ready now?”

“Yep. Just need to grab my wallet.”

“Let’s go then. I don’t want to disappoint yet another person in my life.” He smacks me in the back of the head while I rub the small of my back. The piece of metal that goes across the cot to support my weight was digging into me. I may rethink sleeping on the couch after all.

* * *

Klyde Warren Park is teeming with families. They dot the expansive lawn playing games, having picnics, and just happy to be in each other’s presence. Tonya and Reaf are somewhere having their pictures done. They did the photos of them with Layla before I got here. I’m slowly coming to grips with them being a family unit, but I’m also happy that I didn’t have to see the pictures being taken.

Tonya always seems to know how to handle any situation she’s put in without pissing anyone off. It’s a quality that I admire about her. She’s given me more chances to be a better person than I deserve. She’s also done really well with mine and Reaf’s interactions. Things between us have definitely changed for the better since Christmas.

Layla is pulled tightly against my chest while I go down one of the slides with her. Seeing the toothless smile taking over her face as the wind rushes past us, makes my heart swell. I’m grateful I’ve been given the opportunity to be in her life when I could have so easy been shut out.

“Are you having fun?” My voice comes out high and shrill. When the hell did I start the whole baby talk thing? Tonya would lose her shit if she heard me talking to her this way. Anytime someone tries to baby talk to Layla, she stops them in their tracks. “Talk to her like you would any other person. She’s just like everyone else, just a tinier version.” I cannot tell you how many times I’ve heard her repeat that exact phrase.

Lucky for me…she’s not around to scold me. “Do you know how happy you make daddy?” I kiss her chubby little cheeks, bending my head to blow raspberries on her neck. She squirms, making tiny giggle sounds. I assume she’s giggling. She makes so many weird little noises that I never know what she’s actually doing.

Marshall is sitting on a bench, face glued to his phone. I’m not sure why he wanted to come along. He could have easily texted from the air-conditioned walls of his house. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s talking to Bianca. I wish he’d tell me what’s going on with them, but he’s been keeping it quiet.

Tonya and Reaf are walking in our direction, and I stop all the baby talk. I do not want her to unleash on me again about how I’m stunting Layla’s speech development. She really needs to put the parenting books down and just let things happen.

Tonya is already talking before she gets to me, while Reaf takes a seat on the bench beside Marshall. “The photographer wants to know if you want some shots of you and Layla.”

She’s reaching for Layla, and the person I see over her shoulder makes my heart stop. This is not how I wanted her to find out.

Charleigh turns tail, and jogs in the opposite direction. “I’ll be back,” I say as I place Layla in Tonya’s hands.

“Charleigh,” I call. “Dammit, Charleigh, let me explain.”

But she doesn’t stop. She keeps her pace until she’s out of sight, and I’m left watching her leave. Wondering if I’ve lost her for good.