Page 63 of Daddy's Unexpected Gift

In full pain and panic mode, I instinctually went to Sterling. His rejection was a deeper shock, and I could no longer feel or care about anything. Now, hours later, it was an effort to shrug and think anything more significant than whatever.

I used my toothbrush to deep clean the grout between the tiles on the tub surround. It wasn’t like I was going to move with an old toothbrush. I was more invested in the results of scrubbing the tub and the toilet in my bathroom than what was going on in my life.

It was late when I finally felt that the apartment was properly cleaned. I stood in the middle of my living room and looked around. What was I supposed to do now? I didn’t want to sit down and mess up the throw pillow organization I had done.

My tummy rumbled again. I ran my hand over it, hoping it would settle down. Maybe I was hungry? I looked at the time. It was late. Deciding bed was the thing to do, I could figure out what to do with the food in the refrigerator in the morning.

The actions I took were logical steps. I felt completely disconnected from any of the decisions I made. I didn’t dream, and I woke up feeling functional about nine hours later. I was already in trouble with work. What were they going to do? Fire me? I wanted to say goodbye to Lucille and Hector. It also was a way for me to clean out my refrigerator. Just about two hours later, I stood on Lucille’s front porch holding a box of everything from my refrigerator and a good portion of the canned goods from my pantry.

“Cecelia? What are you doing here this morning? We don’t have an appointment.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry to take up your time. I wanted to let you know that I’m being transferred, and I won’t be your case manager any longer. I don’t know who they have taking over for me. I hope it's okay, but I thought of you when I realized I needed to clean out my freezer. I know you’ve been struggling, feeling like you’re always behind schedule, and that groceries have been a challenge.”

“Come in.” Lucille stepped back, and I stepped in, carrying my box to the kitchen.

“I also wanted to say goodbye to Hector. I wanted to tell you myself. I didn’t want you to think I was abandoning you.” The words sounded more emotional than I felt.

“They called us yesterday. But thank you for coming over yourself. This will mean a lot to Hector.”

I followed her to his room. I kneeled down next to his bed and spoke softly. I squeezed his hand, and he looked sad. I felt bad for hurting his feelings. And I felt confused when Lucille hugged me just before I left. Maybe if I had some semblance of emotion, I would have felt sad too. As it was, I went through the motions. I returned Lucille’s hug, I ruffled Hector’s hair. It looked like I cared.

I didn’t care about anything. I was functioning. On the way home, I stopped and got an oil change and had my tires checked. I had a long drive ahead of me.

I packed, leaving behind the gifts from Sterling that wouldn’t be appropriate anyway. My car was ready. I went to bed early and woke up at dawn. Amarillo was only about a six-hour drive, but I needed to be there in a timely fashion to be let into the apartment.

* * *

I wasn’t fully aware of everything I did, and then, I found myself standing in the middle of a soulless apartment with an old Naugahyde couch from the previous century. It was as if I woke up, or a fog cleared. I became aware of everything. My skin hurt. My hair would have been screaming if it could. My stomach roiled, and I struggled to breathe. The pain and loss of everyone was so sharp and fresh. My very soul felt slashed and bleeding.

My sobs were deep, gut-wrenching things that pulled anguish up from my very toes. I collapsed in on myself and folded into a ball in the middle of that wretched apartment in a sketchy building in a questionable part of town.

I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be alone. Why had everyone turned on me? My job, Sterling?

It felt as if Lucille, my client, had been my only friend and I had felt nothing as I left her and her broken little child with a ‘there-there’, distracted pat on the back.

I cried until I needed to throw up. And then I cried even more. I managed to crawl into the bedroom. The bed needed to be made. The mattress was inside a plastic zipped bag. Mattresses in plastic bags were never a good sign. But that didn’t stop me from curling into the middle of it and crying myself to sleep.

I woke up stiff and feeling sick. Monday morning, and I was expected in the local office. I dragged myself through all the tasks of getting ready for work.

I looked for coffee in the kitchen and decided I wasn’t going to use anything in there until I had time to do a top to bottom disinfecting scrub-down. Everything about the apartment seemed to need a thorough scrubbing. I didn’t know if I had it in me or not. I cursed as I slammed cupboard doors closed during my search for cleaning supplies. I was going to need to make a list of everything I needed. Looking at the time, I groaned. Not that I wanted to go to work or clean this place, but I had to be in the office soon, and I didn’t know what the traffic was like in the town on a Monday morning.

33

STERLING

A week later…

“Fuck!” I threw my phone across the room. I ran my hand through my hair and squeezed my temples together. This past week had not been going well. I was arguing with the agency that was supposed to be helping me figure out how to care for a child. Their case manager had crossed a line, and now they were threatening to take Georgie from me.

And the one person I had thought was on my side from the very beginning, at least she had acted like she was, well, she wasn’t returning my calls. I was pretty sure I'd fucked things up with her. So, not a good week, and not a good time to hear possibly the worst news of my life delivered in a snooty, self-righteous voice.

Wayne crossed the far side of the living room and picked up my phone. He held it out to me as he crossed in my direction.

“Bad news?”

I growled. “Very. That was the director of the agency. They are waiting on confirmation, but it appears that Georgie’s father may have been found.”

“I thought that was always the goal?” he asked.

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