Here’s where shit starts to get interesting. And by interesting, I mean I’m not sure I’m cut out for babysitting. Or parenting. That first night went smoothly and she stayed in her bed in the guest room. Second night? Fuck no. Not so lucky.
It’s around one in the morning when I hear my door open, the light turns on and then there’s a patter of tiny feet running toward my bed.
Fuck me.
You’re probably thinking, why wasn’t she in your room in the first place? Well, we have twelve bedrooms in this house. If I have to take care of this kid all day long, I deserve some peace at night.
River apparently doesn’t see it that way. She gets right beside my ear and yells, “Up!” while holding her blanket in one hand and tossing stuffed animals at my head.
You know me. I don’t sleep anyway, but now she wants in my bed. No fuckin’ way. I grab my pillow and smash it over my head. “No. Go away.”
“Up!” she screams again, like it’s going to convince me to allow her to sleep with me. I only remember bits and pieces of my childhood, probably because of the number of concussions I’ve had—and the drug use—but I do remember sleeping in Ricky’s bed with him and my brothers after my dad died. While I understand the need for comfort in a strange house, I should point out the reason why I don’t want her in my bed.
I’m. Naked. I sleep that way all the time. “No. That’s not happening,” I tell her, scooting away from the edge and discretely trying to make sure my junk is covered. “Go back to bed.”
“I not sleep. Scared,” she whispers, like she’s afraid to wake someone up. “I sleep with you.” It’s like she’s forgetting she just yelled in my ear.
Let me ask you, what would you do here? I’m naked. I can’t let her in my bed. That’d be worse that’d letting her unintentionally getting into lube and dousing herself from head to toe in it. But maybe not as bad as the kid shit incident. It’s a toss-up.
Reaching for my cell phone, I call Scarlet. Shade’s bedroom is on the other side of the house, and there’s no way they can hear me yell for them.
She doesn’t answer. So I keep calling until she does.
“Why are you calling me at one in the morning? Did you misplace the kid?”
“No,” I scoff, annoyed she would think such a thing. “She’s staring at me. Come in my room.”
“No. Way.” The last time Scarlet came in my room, she walked in on me fucking a chick in the ass while doing lines off her back. She swore she’d never come in my room again. Justifiably I guess.
“Get your ass in here,” I snap. “It’s important.”
She groans into the phone. “Fine.”
It’s five long minutes of River trying to get in my bed and me telling her no before Scarlet appears at my door, dressed in one of Shade’s jersey’s and her hair all over the place. She pushes her hand up her forehead to move the thick locks of curly hair from her face to see me. “What?”
She’s not wearing a bra either, and I have to avert my eyes from her chest because though Scarlet has the smallest tits I’ve ever seen, they’re still tits and my eyes automatically gravitate toward her nipples poking through the thin material of the FOX jersey she’s wearing. “Get her out of here.” For obvious reasons, I take my pillow and smash it into my crotch.
“Why? She wants you.” Scarlet can barely keep her eyes open. “You called me in here for this?”
“I’m naked,” I mouth, looking around a now crying River at the edge of my bed.
“Oh my God, you’re such an asshole.” She picks up River from the floor, distracts her, and tosses me my shorts on the floor.
I’ve never gotten dressed so fast in my life.
Once I have the shorts on, Scarlet sets River on my bed. “Maybe you should take her downstairs.”
I hesitate, trying to remove stuffed animals from the bed only to have River toss them back at me. “Why?”
“Your bed is tainted.”
I wave her off. “Go away.”
Scarlet stumbles out of the room, turns off the light and leaves me with River in my bed. And that’s when I start obsessing over what Scarlet said. My bed’s tainted. I wouldn’t say tainted.
Ignore her. My bed’s fine. Are you paying attention? Look down at the bed, curled up in my arms and surrounded by stuffed animals.
I’m jealous of the peaceful way she sleeps. I can’t ever remember it being like that for me. It takes me hours to fall asleep and that’s if I get to sleep. My stare drifts to my nightstand and what’s inside of it. What I should destroy. I haven’t touched drugs since she’s been here. My chest hurts, pounds steadily knowing it’s not an answer, but nonetheless, it’s a remedy I want at the moment when sleep doesn’t come.
One I won’t touch while she’s here.
I take a deep breath and push the feelings of guilt I don’t understand aside, wishing I could wrap my mind around everything that’s happened in the last few days, or what I’m doing in this kid’s life. Am I enough?