Page 85 of Rent Free

“Forever,” she disagreed, pushing on my chest. “I’ll see you when you get home.”

I backed up, then watched her leave.

Only when she was completely gone from sight did I go back to my dad’s office.

“You got it, you got it bad,” Auden pretended to sing Usher into an invisible microphone.

“She fucking hates him,” Gable sang his own verse by Puddle of Mudd as he came back in.

“Fuck all the way off,” I grumbled to them both.

“Boys,” Dad said. “I have to literally appear to be a professional here. So do you.”

“Sure, Dad. Sure.” Quincy came back in.

“Y’all are awful,” Dad grumbled. “Sit the hell down and shut up. We have some things to talk about.”

We all sobered.

He was right.

Dammit.

Good women still exist, but our stomachs are not flat and we talk back.

—Pepper to Atlas

PEPPER

I was exhausted.

I hadn’t slept well last night because of a certain someone’s words.

I’d been, once again, dismissed by the man who had such a tight hold on my heart that I was being dumb and staying where I was needed—not wanted.

I’d gotten home hours ago, thinking for sure I would have to deal with Atlas upon arriving to his house, but he was nowhere to be found.

The house was just as silent as it’d been when I’d left this morning.

I watched a full movie and a half with Forest while we played with some toy cars before I realized that Atlas wouldn’t be making it home by dinner.

I’d found something for us both to eat, and then I’d gotten Forest ready for bed.

I hadn’t actually taken care of a child before fully on my own.

Sure, I’d had a couple of hours here and there with my niblings—nieces and nephews—but I hadn’t had one on one with the full expectation of it only being me with no end in sight.

I could’ve called Atlas, but again, I was trying to put distance between us by not calling or texting when I didn’t need to.

After I’d read Forest a story, we’d rocked in the rocking chair again like last night, and soon he was asleep.

It was an hour after I’d gotten him to bed when I found myself in my bedroom, once again wondering if this was the best idea.

Was it smart to be falling in love with a kid who belonged to a man who continuously let me know that I wasn’t important?

Was it smart to be insinuating myself into their lives when it would be smarter to let them figure it out on their own?

And there I was, looking for daycares that had abnormal hours for the working parents who didn’t have the usual nine-to-five.

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