Page 16 of Despite It All
“Here, take my card.” I pull out my wallet and hand over my credit card.
“Gladly.” She plucks the card from my hand and gives me a sorry-ass smile. “We’ll figure it out,” she says then walks out.
While Anna’s gone, I draft and erase at least twenty messages to Wyla. Damn it, just send a message.
Hey, this is Jett. Call me when you can. I’m at Anna’s, but I can meet you wherever.
After the nauseating feeling from hitting send, I start to pace in the kitchen. What am I going to say? How are we going to make this work? I want to see my daughter. Hell, I want Wyla and to be a part of both of their lives. But how do we do that? I live in quite possibly the furthest part of the country from here.
I constantly check my phone for responses from Wyla. Anna comes back after a half hour with takeout boxes in a bag. “I’m sure what I got from Ling’s Palace isn’t on your meal plan, but I think this situation calls for some Chinese food.”
I check my phone again. Nothing. Fucking hell, this is torture. I don’t know what time the party was supposed to end, so I really shouldn’t panic yet. She’ll call, she said she would.
Fuck, I feel like a teenager waiting for response from their crush.
I force myself to eat some of the food. The sweet and sour chicken looked too good to pass up. Anna tries to talk about anything else, but it’s like a giant elephant in the room. It can’t be ignored forever.
“So, thought about what you want to say?” Anna asks, closing up her empty box of food.
“I have had a million and one thoughts racing through my brain in the past hour and a half. I don’t know exactlywhat to say, but I know I want to be a part of her life.” I don’t specify theherbecause it’s both, but I don’t want to get into all of that with Anna.
“Well, that’s a good start. Just talk to Wyla. She's a good mom, J. You guys can figure something out.” Anna gets up and takes the boxes to the trash.
“Yeah, if she would just call me…” I stop mid-sentence because my phone starts to ring, and Wyla’s name flashes across the screen. “Fuck, it’s her.”
Anna nods and walks back to her room.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hey,” she responds, and I can’t help the tug at my lips at her voice. “I, um… we’re finishing up here. Stevie is going to stay here at my parent’s house for a couple of hours. Would you like to talk at my place?”
I frown. “Stevie’s not going to be there?”
“Well, no. I kind of thought we could talk first, make somewhat of a plan. Talking while a four-year-old is around isn’t exactly easy.”
Yeah, I guess that makes sense.
Wyla sighs. “I’m sorry, Jett. I promise I’ll introduce you two officially. I just thought we could make a plan first. I don’t exactly know how to navigate this. So I may be doing this all wrong, but I’m—”
The pain in her voice kills me. “Wy, it’s okay, I understand. What time?”
“Give me about half an hour and I’ll be home. I’ll text you my address.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “Yeah, see you soon.”
Exactly thirty minutes later, I’m standing outside of Wyla’s house. It’s a smaller than her parent’s place. Based on the outside, I’d say there couldn’t be more than two bedrooms inside. There’s a small patio for a porch with a wooden swing hanging off to the side. The outside of the house is a light cream color, and the door is painted a burnt orange.
I stand staring at the door, trying to get the strength to knock. Images of the blonde little girl jumping into Wyla’s arms flash into my head, and it sends my arm into action.
The minute it takes for Wyla to open the door feels like hours, but when she does, relief floods me. Wyla presses her lips together. “Come on in.”
I step into her small living room, as she closes the door behind me. The room is a sea of pink. There are pinkbaskets full of babies, Barbies, and stuffed animals, a big doll house that looks homemade, and a mini pink princess chair. There’s pink blankets and pillows on the couch, and a pink rug on the floor.
The inside seems to fit the thoughts I had from the outside. It’s small but seems well lived in, and it’s clean… it’s a lot of pink. As I take it all in, I feel something wet on my hand. I look down as a German Shepherd licks my hand again.
“Oh, Poppy, go lay down. Go on, dog bed.” Wyla snaps her fingers, and the dog follows her command walking over to the, you guessed it, pink dog bed. “Sorry, she’s super friendly. If anything, she’ll lick you to death.”
