Chapter Two
Pru
Walking through the door, I smile when my eyes land on my old beat up couch and threadbare shag carpet. It’s so good to be home, even if my place is a dump. Any place, even my crappy house, is better than a hospital room. I don’t think I got more than an hour of sleep the entire time I was there. Either a nurse was waking me up to check this or that, or some machine was beeping louder than my alarm clock. I guess it was good practice for having a new baby.
I’m not sure how prepared I am to be taking care of Scarlett all on my own, but I’ll figure it out as we go along. I’ve had to take care of myself for a really long time. Hell, I can remember making myself peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner before I even started grade school. Still, taking care of a baby is something new. In fact, I’ve only been around a few kids since I became an adult. According to the women I work with, raising children is all trial and error anyway. There’s no doubt it’ll be hard. I’ll do it, though. It’s the only choice I have.
Looking down at my daughter, I wouldn’t change it for anything. I’m ashamed to admit I considered an abortion at first. I was scared, alone, and not sure if I could take care of a baby on my own. But when I heard her heartbeat the first time, she became my entire world.
Setting her carrier on the floor, I unbuckle the latches on the car seat and pick up a still sleeping Scarlett. My nose goes directly to her head, sniffing her sweet-smelling skin.
Her head is covered with a light patch of fuzzy dark hair, just like her father’s. Her eyes are blue, of course, but they are a very dark blue. Somehow, I just know they will change to the same dark blue as Hack’s. Other than that, she is all me, from her nose down to her little toes. It’s like someone shrunk me down to the size of a doll.
Finally getting my fill of her scent, I walk upstairs to the room beside mine. It’s small, not bigger than most walk-in closets, but I did my best to make it cute for her. After laying her down in her new crib, the only new thing she owns, my eyes scan the room. The cracked plaster walls now have a new coat of cotton candy pink paint. There are two pictures of teddy bears wearing tutus hung just above her crib. I bought them from a neighbor’s yard sale, and I love them.
There’s an old white dresser I found at Goodwill that sits near the window. It may be used, but it does the job it was intended for. There is also a changing table a co-worker gave me. It’s not quite stable enough for me to ever lay my daughter on it, but it’s good for holding diapers and all the other baby necessities. The room may not be perfect, but it will do until my checking account grows a bit.
My hand caresses her perfect sleeping face before I walk back down to the living room. Even though I don’t want to, I get my phone out of my purse. Mom will want to know we are home, not that she cares about Scarlett or me. If I don’t let her know, though, she’ll bitch when she finds out we’re home and she didn’t receive a call.
I’m not surprised to see there are no missed calls or any texts from Hack. There is no reason for me to think he would respond to my last message. He probably didn’t even read it. If he did, he obviously ignored it. I don’t dwell on the thought, just pull up my mother’s number and hit call.
It rings and rings before she finally answers with a slur. “What do you want?”
She’s been drinking, but that shouldn’t surprise me. Still, I had hoped having a grandchild would make her change her ways. Considering the fact having me didn’t change her, I should have known Scarlett wouldn’t stop her from drinking.
“I just wanted to call and let you know we’re home from the hospital,” I say, trying to keep the irritation from my voice.
“You are,” she replies, not bothering to ask about her new granddaughter. “Well, that’s good.”
“Scarlett is so pretty. I can’t wait ‘til you see her,” I say, pride filling my voice.
I admit it hurt my feelings that she didn’t even come to the hospital and see us. It was probably a good thing, though. Knowing Mom, she would have shown up drunk and tried to get into all the male nurses’ pants. Hell, she probably would have hit on a few of the female nurses, too, if she thought there was a chance of them getting her some drugs.
She ignores me and says, “I’m at the Cherry Top, and it’s damn near empty. I may need you to come pick me up in a few hours if someone doesn’t show up soon.”
Shit, shit, shit… I look to the clock and see it’s going on six. “Mom, I’m not getting Scarlett out in the middle of the night to come pick you up from a bar.”
She starts complaining, pulling the same shit she has pulled since I was old enough to take care of her. For the first time, though, I don’t take the bait. Instead, my mind goes to my daughter sleeping safely in her bed. Scarlett has to come first now.
I let her ramble on and on, until she runs out of steam, then shock the shit out of her. “You are going to have to find your own way home.”
“Are you really going to just leave your poor momma stranded, Prudence Jane?” she asks with a hiccup then adds, “I just knew you’d forget about me once that baby was born. You never did love me, even though I did my best with you. You never thought I was good enough, always thought you were better than me.”
The guilt is not working this time. “I’ve gotta go.”
With that, my finger slides across the screen of my phone, and then I toss it to the coffee table. For a second, the thought of lying down to take a nap pops into my mind, but the stuff from the hospital needs to be put away and there is no one to do it but me. Sleep will have to wait.
I empty all the bags we brought home, surprised at how much stuff they sent home with us. There are diapers, bottles, and tons of diaper rash samples. The nurses said it was just the normal stuff, but there is no doubt in my mind they felt sorry for the poor single mom who didn’t have a single visitor during her stay.
I make sure all of Scarlett’s bottles are clean and one is made and waiting in the fridge to be warmed. I attempted breastfeeding, but my body didn’t seem to make enough milk. All the nurses told me it sometimes happens after the trauma my body had been through. They also said my milk would come with time, but my daughter was still hungry after draining each breast. Seeing the hunger on her face, I just couldn’t handle it. Even though I felt guilty as hell, she ended up on formula by the time she was a day old. I feel guilty for not breastfeeding her, but at least her belly is full.
After everything is put away, I decide a nice hot shower sounds like a dream. Washing my hair with shampoo that doesn’t smell like antiseptic sounds amazing. I make sure the door is locked before walking up to the nursery and checking on Scarlett again. Seeing that she is still sound asleep, I go into the bathroom and start the shower to heat up the water then grab some clean pajamas out of my bedroom before heading back to the bathroom.
Quickly undressing, I jump into the shower and let the warm water roll over my sore body, being careful of my incision. When I’m busy, it’s easy to forget what all my body went through having Scarlett. It’s while relaxing that I notice the soreness. Having my daughter wasn’t the normal labor and delivery most people go through. Hell, the pregnancy itself was anything but easy. Worrying that I would die and leave her alone was my biggest fear. Luckily, Scarlett was born perfectly pink and screaming her head off, and I made it out still breathing, only missing a few parts, and having lost the chance of having any more children. I don’t even want to think about that now. Not sure when I will be ready to think about it.
I quickly finish my shower then grab a towel and dry off before twisting it around my hair. Leaving the towel on my hair to soak up some of the water, I put on clean pajamas then unwrap my hair. As I brush away all the tangles, my mind starts to wander to Hack. He’s a dick and about a million other derogatory words, but I can’t regret my time with him. How could I when he gave me Scarlet?
Knowing that my thoughts aren’t going to change anything, I check on Scarlett once again and find her still out like a light. It amazes me how much babies sleep. To be honest, it leaves me feeling lonely. I am well aware it won’t be like this for long, and I should take advantage of the peace while I can.
With that thought, I walk out of her room and head downstairs. After grabbing a soda from the fridge and a bag of chips off the shelf, I get comfortable on the couch. Again, my mind wanders to Hack and what he would think of our daughter. Shaking my head, I refuse to waste any more time on him. A few minutes later, I’m catching up on Orange is the New Black on Netflix and filling my belly.
The episode is just ending when someone knocks on the door. It has to be someone selling something, because Mom is at the bar and no one else ever comes to see me. Whoever it is knocks again. It’s louder this time, almost as if they are trying to pound the thing down. Shit, they’re going to wake Scarlett up.
I quickly get up and rush across the room, swinging it open without looking to see who it is. When my eyes finally focus on the person standing in front of me, I get the shock of my life. I never thought he would show up here, never thought I’d see his face again. For a split second, memories of the love I felt for him fill my mind, and I almost jump into his arms. Then, his disappearing act and the money he left behind replace the good memories. Of course, all the unanswered calls and texts work their way into my brain, too.
I say the only thing I can. “What the hell do you want, Hack?”