Page 77 of Roads Behind Us
“I’m sorry. I know, but I love you, brother. You’ve always looked out for me, but now I need you to forget about me and look out for him.”
“It doesn’t work that way, asshole.”
“I’m not worth your worry, Bax. Take care of him. He needs love, and you got lots of that to give. I owe this to you.”
“You can’t owe a child, Dixon,” I seethed through clenched teeth, my voice getting louder and louder as my heart thundered inside my chest. And fuck Dixon. I knew exactly how he’d ended up in this situation. “How fuckin’ high are you?”
“I’m not,” he said. “I know you don’t believe me, but the minute he was born, I got sober. But I dunno if I can keep it up. Better to stay away. Everybody’s better off without me.”
“Dixon,” I pleaded, falling forward under the weight of the panic now, but I caught myself on the edge of the kitchen counter and leaned on it. “I-I can’t.”
“Everything you need’s in the basket under the blankets. He’s healthy. They detoxed him in the NICU and he’s had all the shots they said he needed. I left you his birth certificate, and Kel and I signed a paper that says we give our rights to you. It’s notarized.”
“Kel?”
“Kellie, she’s the mama. She’s in bad shape, Bax. I tried to keep her sober as much as I could durin’ the pregnancy, but once he was born… I’ve tried gettin’ her to go to rehab, but she won’t go. She wants nothin’ to do with Stu, but her parents are dead, and she doesn’t have brothers or sisters.”
I couldn’t remember ever being so goddamn mad, but all that came out of my mouth was, “You named your kid Stu?”
“It’s short for Stuart. It means he’ll always have a guardian lookin’ out for him. It’s just a nickname. You and Athena can name him whatever you want. She’s good at that. And I met that new chick you been hangin’ with. She seems nice. Maybe she can help out, but don’t give him to Merv. I put that in the paper. I love her, but she’ll ruin him.
“It’s also written in the paper that if you don’t take him in, he goes to foster care.”
Motherfucker!
I wanted to scream at my brother, but the inevitable heartbreak made me whisper. “How can you do this to me?”
A scuffle sounded at the end of Dixon’s line. “I gotta go, Bax. Don’t try to find me. I won’t be in Wyoming.” He got quiet for a minute. “I wish Candy could see him.”
“This ain’t the same k?—”
“I know that,” Dixon said. “But he can be. He can heal that part of you I broke.”
Hearing the guilt in his voice exhausted me. My wife’s and child’s deaths had nothing to do with him. Dixon had just happened to be in the truck with Candy when she had the aneurysm. I’d said it till I’d gone blue in the face, but he wouldn’t listen. He’d blame himself till the end of time. “Dixon, it wasn’t your?—”
“I gotta go,” he said, and he cut the line.
“Fuck.” I shoved my phone back in my pocket. What the hell was I supposed to do now?
“Bax?” Bea tried to get my attention as the baby screamed. She was freaking out, the strained sound of her voice like a blaring siren. “Abey’s on her way, but why’s he cryin’ like this? Is somethin’ wrong with him?”
“He’s probably hungry.”
“You have milk.”
“He can’t have cow’s milk yet,” I said woodenly. “He can’t be more than a few months old. He needs formula or breast milk, neither of which we have.”
Fuck. I couldn’t think with the kid wailing like that. It filled up my whole house, and it nauseated me.
“Bax? Look at me.”
I couldn’t. I made my way to the table and fell into a chair.
Still rocking from side to side, Bea slipped her pinky into the kid’s mouth, and he latched on. I knew that wouldn’t work for long, though, once he realized no milk was coming out.
Devo. Devo had said they kept baby formula at the community center for mothers who couldn’t afford it.
The baby opened his mouth and let out another wail, and Bea groaned miserably as I pulled my phone from my pocket again. I pounded my finger over the sensor till it unlocked, found Devo’s contact, and called her.
