Chapter Twenty
Pru
Not long after the tear-fest ended, Lettie and Lisa came up to the nursery. They took one look at us and ushered us out of the room, saying they would watch the kids for a little while. Normally, I wouldn’t leave Scarlett alone unless I had to, but I needed a break from being locked up in that room.
The girls took me to the common room and introduced me around. It was the first time I had been there since the day I arrived. Hack had tried to get me to come down more than once, but it just felt wrong to leave Scarlett. There was no damn way I was bringing my daughter to a room that smelled of alcohol and marijuana.
We spent an hour in there, talking to some of the brothers. I met some of the wives and even a few of the club whores. Surprisingly, they weren’t as bad as I thought they would be. The bigger surprise was they called themselves whores and seemed to be somewhat proud to be labeled as such.
Now, we’re in the kitchen making lunch. Well, Addy and Trix are making sandwiches, while Gidget and I grab some chips and a can of soda for each of us. When we are done, we sit at the table. It only takes a few minutes for Trix to place a plate in front of me and take a seat to my right. Addy gives Gidget hers then sits down to my left.
Taking a bite of my sandwich, I let out a moan of pleasure. It’s just plain old ham and cheese with mayo, but it tastes wonderful because I’m not eating it upstairs shut in the nursery. I’m in the kitchen, sitting at an actual table, and my ass is in a real freaking chair. Just sitting in a chair, instead of the floor, feels like heaven.
After another bite, I look at Trix. “I want to cook Hack dinner tonight. Is it okay if I use the kitchen?”
When I was getting our sodas from the fridge, I saw some of the groceries I had bought the day Hack brought us here. Even though I was angry that day, I had bought the stuff to make Spanish rice and sausage, one of Hack’s favorite meals. Since the polish sausage is in the fridge, I’m assuming the other ingredients are in the cabinet somewhere.
“Why are you asking me?” Trix asks, her brow raised.
“You’re the president’s, umm…” I pause, searching for the right word. “Woman. I assumed you would be the one I needed to ask.
“I’m his old lady,” she says with a smile. “But, you don’t have to ask me shit. If you wanna do something, do it.”
Gidget nods, motioning to the cabinets on the wall and then the stand-up freezer in the back of the room. “Use whatever you want. If it’s in the kitchen, it’s communal property. If someone has something that is just theirs, they keep it in their room.”
“That goes for anything,” Addy says while setting her soda on the table. “A few months ago, I got on this kick of making Cam homemade baby food.”
“Addy gets on these crazy ass kicks from time to time, but they never last long,” Trix pipes in with a snort.
“Anyway,” Addy drawls out, sending a glare in Trix’s direction. “I decided to make some homemade peach baby food. I had to mush and mush it, and by the time I was done with it, the stuff looked more like baby poop than baby food.”
I let out a laugh while she continues. “So, I got done with it, placed it in an ice tray, and then put it in the freezer.”
“Why the hell did you put it in an ice tray?” Trix asks, looking confused.
“That’s how you store it. Then you take out one cube at a time as you need it,” Gidget answers before taking another bite of her sandwich.
“Do you know everything?” Trix asks with a frown.
Gidget smiles before answering, “Pretty much.”
Another laugh bubbles up inside me as Addy starts talking again. “I was in the common room the next day, and Round was licking on one of the baby food cubes like it was a popsicle. I told him those were for Cam, and he said, ‘if you snooze you lose’.”
My laughter comes out like a tidal wave, causing my entire body to shake. The girls join me and our laughter grows. By the time we’re done, there are tears in our eyes again. This time, though, the tears feel good.
“Word of advice,” Trix says, pouring some more chips on her plate. “Don’t let the brothers know you cook. If you do, you’ll be in the kitchen cooking them shit all the time.”
Addy nods in agreement. “Trix and I are masters at sandwiches. Gidget can make a killer pie, but she isn’t exactly a chef.”
“Hey,” Gidget shouts, pretending to be offended.
Addy ignores her mock offence and says, “None of us but Lettie ever volunteer to cook. That poor woman ends up in the kitchen all the time.”
To me, that doesn’t sound so bad. Whenever the cook was out for the day at the diner, I would help in the kitchen. I liked it. I liked it so much, I became a complete and total Food Network junkie. When I had the money, I would treat myself by buying ingredients to try a new recipe.
“I can watch Scarlett for you tonight,” Gidget says with a sweet smile. “Parker wants to have a sleepover in the nursery. He even conned Smoke into joining. We’re gonna watch movies and pig out on popcorn.”
“Is he getting tired of being on lockdown?” Trix asks before I can reply.
Parker still goes to kindergarten every day. Smoke takes him in the morning and picks him up in the afternoon. During school hours, two brothers stand guard across the street, watching everyone that comes and goes. The principal and teacher know to keep an eye out and have promised to call if anything out of the ordinary happens.
Other than school, he is stuck on club grounds just like the rest of us. This didn’t seem to be a problem for him until last Saturday afternoon. One of his classmates had invited him to a birthday party, and Parker wanted to go. At first, he threw a fit, the kind only a five-year-old can, then he broke down in tears. Smoke ended up going out and buying a cake, telling him they would have their own party. He also bought the boy a new video game and played it with him for half the night.
“He’s doing all right,” Gidget answers with a shrug, reaching for her sandwich. “But last night, he told Smoke he was ready to go home.”
Everyone goes quiet, thinking about going home. I’m sure the others are excited by the prospect of getting to their own house. Well, Addy and Gidget are. Trix lives at the clubhouse, so it’s not as big of an issue to her. For me, the thought of going home scares me shitless. My maternity leave ended today. When I called my boss to tell her I wouldn’t be coming in and wasn’t sure when I would be back, she said she had to let me go. So, I’ll be going home to no job. I’ll also be going home to a house without Hack in my bed every night.
Trying not to dwell on the thought, I look over at Gidget. “I know Doc said he would come back this weekend to check on Scarlett, but would you mind giving her a quick look-over.”
“Is something bothering her?” she asks, going into nurse mode.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “But she was supposed to see her pediatrician the day after we came here. I called and rescheduled for yesterday. Then, I had to reschedule again. Now, she’s six-weeks-old and she still hasn’t had her one month checkup.”
“I spent the first year after I got my nursing degree working in a pediatrician’s office.” She looks at me, her eyes completely serious. “I’m not a doctor, but I have been present during more well-child appointments than I could count.”
“Like I said, she knows everything,” Trix says, taking a drink of her soda.
Gidget smiles before continuing. “I have spent every day for the past two weeks with Scarlett. I’ve fed her, changed her diaper, and even given her a bath.”
The last part causes me to cringe with guilt. The bath came after an extremely messy diaper. That just so happened to have to be changed while Hack had pulled me into our room for a few minutes of alone time. While Hack’s fingers were between my legs, Gidget was cleaning baby poop.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I say, and she shrugs her shoulders, letting me know not to worry about it.
“During all the time I’ve spent with Scarlett, I haven’t noticed anything that causes me concern,” she says with a reassuring smile. “She’s small, but she is growing every day. She doesn’t have any trouble holding her food down, her breathing is normal, and her kidneys and bowels are functioning properly. As I said before, I’m not a doctor, but I believe Scarlett is perfectly heathy.”
I let out a relieved breath. “Thank goodness.”
Going quiet, we all dig into the remnants of our lunch. I’m stuffing the last bite into my mouth when Hack walks into the kitchen and looks straight to me, telling me, “We need to talk.”