It’s been days since I last saw her, and I’m not sure if she’s ever coming back.

The moment she ran from the church was the moment I knew I fucked up real good. I tried running after her, but by the time I’d dressed, she was already long gone. More than anything, I wish I could find her, but with only her first name as a clue, I don’t have a chance.

I just hope and pray to God she doesn’t tell anyone what she saw.

If Mother finds out, I’m screwed.

She’ll probably throw me out on the street right away.

I’ve already given her so much trouble; this could be the last drop in the bucket. She’s told me so many times before it was the last time she’d forgive me my sins. A man can only break the rules so many times before it catches up with him.

Still, I feel like I need to make something up to Mother. Because she, of all people, deserves better. She deserves a better me.

So with that thought in mind, I go visit an old friend who’s been having trouble lately. He hasn’t come to church in ages, and Mother’s worried about him. Rightfully so, I’d say, because, in all the time I’ve known him, he’s always hung out with the wrong people. Same as Laura’s brother—gang business.

However, this morning he called for help, and since Mother picked up the phone, she obviously said yes the moment he asked if I could come to his home. I don’t like it, because I already know he’s going to try to hand me his problems instead of dealing with them himself. But Mother doesn’t know him as well as I do.

Sighing, I knock on his door and tap my foot until he finally opens.

A screaming baby is the first thing that greets me. Then his ugly mug.

“Dude, finally.” He tries to hug me, but I stand there awkwardly, cringing from the screeching going on right next to my face.

“Hey, Ricardo, nice to see you too.”

“Come in, come in,” he says, opening his door further to allow me in.

It’s a mess inside. Pots and pans lie scattered on the kitchen counters, and stains mark the furniture while flies fly through the room.

“Jesus, Rick, ever clean this place up?”

He shoves aside a few of the dirty cups and baby toys and tries to make room for me to sit on the couch. “I know, I know. It’s a mess. I’m a mess.”

“I can see why you haven’t come to church lately,” I say, sitting down.

He sighs. “It’s not because I don’t want to. I just can’t.” He puts the baby in a makeshift crib while it still cries, shushing it with a blanket. It won’t stop.

“Because of the baby?” I ask.

“Not just that. I mean yeah, but I’ve been busy with the gang too. You know how that shit goes.”

He looks at me like I’m supposed to understand.

I don’t.

It’s been ages.

Literally.

“That, and Nadia left me with that thing so she could go to work or something. Like that’s more important.” He scratches his head nervously. “She seriously fucking left me with that fucking baby.”

“Calm down,” I say. “It’s not a thing. It’s a baby. Boy or girl?”

“How should I know?” He reaches for his pack of cigarettes and lights one up.

I make a face. “How do you not know? It’s not that hard to find out.”

“Like I don’t know that!” He blows out the smoke.

“Calm. Down,” I repeat. “Is this why you called me?”

“Yeah. Why else would I call you?”

I sigh again. “And here I thought this would be some gang shit or something.” I shake my head. “Rick and a baby … how about that.”

“I didn’t plan this. We broke up. We weren’t even together, dude. And all of the sudden, she comes out of nowhere and flops this baby in my hand, saying it’s mine and telling me I should take care of it. She even demanded money, dude. Fuck!”

He kicks the trashcan, which falls over, causing garbage to tumble out over the floor.

Meanwhile, the baby is still screaming like a firetruck.

“Dude, calm down,” I say. “This ain’t gonna go any better if you don’t stop screaming.”

“Tell that to that thing!” He points his finger at the baby like it’s some kind of monster. “It hasn’t stopped screaming since she dropped it here. And why? Because she thinks her job is more important than mine is. Like I don’t have anything better to do than to take care of some stinking, screaming baby all day.”

“Her job is more important,” I remark, raising a brow. “Because hers isn’t illegal.”

“So what?” He shrugs. “I make cash.”

“And you seriously think that’s going to be enough to support a baby?”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for this, okay? If I’d known she’d do this to me, I’d have never stuck my dick up her snatch.”

“Yet you did.” I roll my eyes. “Do you even know how babies are made?”

“Of course, I do.” He glowers. “I had school. Junior high. Top dog.”

“Top dropout, yeah,” I retort. “You know it takes two people to make a baby.”

“She was on the pill.”

“Maybe she forgot one. It happens,” I say.

“Who gives a shit how it happened. The point is I cannot take care of that thing.”

“Stop calling it a thing. What’s the baby’s name?”

“I don’t know … Sofia or something.”

I get up from the couch and approach the baby. “Sofia, huh?” I pick her up from the cradle, and I put her on my shoulder, patting her back while soothing her. “It’s okay. Shhh. Mommy’s going to be back later tonight.”

I look at Ricardo for the answer to that.

“I don’t know; she said she’d be back when she was done with work.”

“When was she last fed?” I ask.

“I dunno. I tried to give her Cheerios, but—”

“You gave a baby Cheerios?” I interject.

“Yeah … with milk, of course, so they were soggy.”

I close my eyes and sigh out loud, rubbing my temples. “You can’t feed a baby Cheerios. They need baby formula.”

“It was milk. I thought it was okay.”

“Cheerios …” I shake my head. “Goddammit, Ricardo.” I immediately apologize to God in my head for using his name in vain.

“Dude.” He picks up the box and shows me the back. “It says right here. Nutritional.”

“What do you think she’s going to chew those up with? Imaginary teeth?” I open her mouth and show it to him. “Look at that. She needs liquids.”

“Milk is a liquid.” He shrugs, which makes me roll my eyes again.

“Buy some baby formula.” I pull her up so I can smell her, and the stench immediately makes me gag. “And some diapers while you’re at it.”

“What? Now?” he asks.

“Yeah, now.” I stare him down until he gets the message, picks up his keys, and leaves the apartment.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s back with a whole truckload of Pampers and three brands of baby formula.

“I didn’t know which one to get, so I grabbed ‘em all.”

I chuckle. “Well, at least you know how to bring home the goods.”

“What now?” he asks, looking at me like it’s my kid.

I place Sofia on a table and say, “C’mere with some diapers.”

“Aw, hell naw, I ain’t doing that shit.”

“Come. Here,” I growl.

He sighs and stomps but eventually comes closer, and I show him how to pull off her clothes. “Go on,” I say. “I’ll help if you need it.”

He frowns while glaring at me then rips off her diaper. The stench that greets us makes him yowl and pinch his nose. “Jesus Christ.”

I chortle. “Better get used to it.”

While standing as far away as he can, he pulls it away from underneath her, and I hand him some napkins so he can clean her.

“Put on a clean one,” I say.

He does what I tell him to although it takes him three tries to get it on right. When it’s done, we quickly dress her again, and he jumps away with the dirty diaper, dumping it in a plastic bag like it’s a toxic hazard he wants to contain.

“Lord, help me get through this,” he mutters, grabbing some of the baby formula. “How does this work?”

“Follow the instructions. Put it in the microwave. Test it on your wrist, so it doesn’t burn her tongue.”

He grabs the bottle the baby’s mommy left him, fills it as instructed, and then puts it in the microwave. When it’s heated, he tests it and brings it to me. I contemplate having him feed her, but I’m convinced he’d only make a mess, so I decide to do it myself.

I grab her and hold her in my arms while putting the bottle to her lips, and she greedily takes it, gulping down the milk.

“Good girl …” I whisper. “You were just hungry, that’s all.”

“So, is she gonna calm down or what?” he asks.

“If you take care of her, she will,” I say, hinting that it’s his fault.

When she’s finished, I put down the bottle and pat her back, hoping she’ll burp. She’s still crying, which isn’t a surprise at all, considering how he took care of her. Or rather, not.

He sits down on the couch again and rubs his face. “What am I supposed to do, Frank?”

“What are you supposed to do? And you ask me that? You’re the dad.” I try not to look at him as I hold the little girl tight and rub her back, trying to calm her down.

“Fuck, Frank. You always know … everything. And you’re a fucking priest.”

“I’m not a fucking priest,” I hiss, trying to keep my voice down. “I’m a preacher.”

“Preacher, priest, Father, whatever. It’s all the same to me.”

“Like you’d know. You barely come to church.”

“I know. The boys won’t let me.”

“Then try harder,” I retort. “Who gives a shit about them anyway?”

“I do.”

“No, you care about the money. You wouldn’t lie awake one single day if one of them died right now.”

He’s silent, so I guess my rant is working.

“I know because I felt it. I’ve been in the same position you’re in now, and you know it. They’re not your friends.”

“But they give me what I need.” He pulls out a tiny bag of cocaine and draws a line on the table in front of the couch. I set the baby down in the makeshift crib. Right before he snorts it up, I swipe my arm across it.

“Fuck! Dude, why—”

“You should know better.” I grab his collar and pull him up. “You have a fucking baby.”

His eyes turn red. “Let go of me.”

“No, listen to me,” I growl. “See that little girl there?” I point at her. “She’s yours, whether you like it or not. That little soul counts on you to do the right thing. She didn’t ask to be born. You created her by being a selfish little shit. And now you think you can run away from your responsibilities?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t fucking know how to take care of a kid!”

“Then start learning!” I shove him back on the couch and stare at him. “Stop the drugs. Now.”

“What? Forever?”

“Yes!” I ball my fists. “You wanna call yourself a man? Then act like a man. Be a daddy to that little girl.”

I walk over to her and grab her, cradling her in my arms to show her to him. “See this? Her blood runs in your veins. You caused this. Now you have to deal with the consequences.”

“But I can’t …” he mutters, his eyes turning red.

“Look at her,” I yell, forcing him to look at her tiny face. “That’s your daughter.”

He begins to cry. And now the baby too.

“Stop crying,” I tell Ricardo. “And man up.”

“I’m only nineteen. I’m not a man.”

“No. You’re a kid who did adult things, and now he realizes the world ain’t as easy as he thought it would be. Time to grow up, kid.”

“Frank … how do you do it?”

“One step at a time,” I say, and I gently rock the baby back and forth until the screams become less and less.

“What about the money?”

“Get a job. A real job.” I look him directly in the eyes, so he knows I’m serious. “Stop drinking. Stop smoking. And clean this place up, it’s a fucking mess,” I say.

“But I can’t do it all—”

“Yes, you can!” I growl. “Dammit. That’s what it means when you create life. You do everything and anything to take care of it. Even if it means sacrificing your own goddamn soul.”

He shakes his head and laughs a little, wiping away a tear. “Look at you. A swearing preacher.”

“I don’t give a fuck. God doesn’t give a shit if I swear or not. He gives a shit whether I take care of His children. That’s what matters.”

“Like her …” he mutters, looking at little Sofia.

“Yeah. And you.”

“Me?” He raises a brow at me.

“Yeah. Believe it or not, we’re all important, including you. It’s time you fought for the right things. You deserve better than this. She deserves better than this.”

It’s quiet for some time. “You’re right …” he says, looking into the distance. “I’ve fucked up.”

“Everybody fucks up from time to time. It’s about seeing it, and learning from it, and doing it better this time around.”

“But what about you? Are you doing any better?” he asks, his gaze penetrating mine. It’s like he can see straight through me.

“This isn’t about me. You know my past. I’m doing the best that I can. Are you?”

I know he can’t answer that question, and he doesn’t.

He sits there silently while I tend to his kid.

This sweet little child, sucking on my thumb. She’s an angel. And holding her like that brings back memories I tried to keep buried for so long.

I don’t want to remember them.

And as soon as she’s fallen asleep, I bring her to him and place her in his arms. “Hold up her head.”

He holds her like I tell him to, and for the first time since I came here, I can see a flame burning in his eyes. A smile slowly creeps onto his face. “Okay, I admit, she is kinda cute.”

I take a deep breath and nod. “Yeah, she is.”

“What now?” he asks, looking up at me.

“Now, you get your shit together and raise that baby.”