Page 15 of Who's Your Daddy
The three of them will need a lot of help. So will the little boy next to me. Just the idea of leaving Murphy with them has created a knot in my stomach that tightens with every hour that passes. Cal is his father though. He needs to try. Like with any other guardianship, it’s my job to give the parent the benefit of the doubt. It’s my job to set them up so the situation works for them both. It’s what’s best for Murphy.
Which is why my fate is sealed. I’m moving to Jersey. Every time the thought hits me, it’s accompanied by a shudder. But with six apartment showings this week, it has to be okay.
Yes, Jersey makes me think of chaos and clutter, but that doesn’t mean it will be that way. My parents were the cause of most of the chaos. It’s not fair to blame the entire state, and since I’m going to be a resident of New Jersey once more, I need to get rid of the idea that it’s awful.I can do this.
Becoming a New Yorker nearly a decade ago was a point of pride for me. I jumped in with both feet, and made sure to always keep those feet in Valentino, Manolo and Jimmy Choos. Manolo’s don’t belong in Jersey.
I’m going to need new shoes.
Murphy shifts to sit back in his seat as we pull off the bridge and head toward the first exit.
Itching to perk him up, I say, “The views of the skyline are great here, especially at night.”
At least I think they will be.
He gives me a clipped nod in response. That’s it. This poor kid acts more like a surly old man.
I pat his leg. “It’s going to be okay.”
Slowly, he turns his head, his eyes telegraphing a response that looks an awful lot likeare you kidding me.
Yeah, I get it.
Placating words are not going to cut it with him. He’s too street smart.
I force myself to sit in the silence and watch the buildings go by. Each street we turn onto is more run-down than the last. Eventually, the car stops in front of a three-story building with a broken window.The flower beds out front are full of weeds, some so overgrown they’ve crawled out onto the cracked sidewalk. The entire façade is covered in a layer of grime. Like it needed a good power washing a decade ago. At this point, the sludge may be forever caked onto the surface.
“This is it.” The non-question leaves Murphy’s lips with a defeated sigh.
My shoulders slump with a similar sensation, but I keep my tone light. “They’re still getting it together. I heard the inside’s already done.”
He turns to me in that slow way of his, never in a hurry, his eyes meeting mine. “Like we’ll go through the door and find ourselves in another place?” The words drip with a sarcasm far too impressive for such a young person.
I bite back a breathy laugh. “Like we’d be that lucky.”
Finally, his lips lift in a hint of a smile. The first I’ve seen from him since he showed up at the office.
Mental note: heresponds better to snark.
My kind of kid.
“Let’s go.”I scoop up my purse and climb out. On the sidewalk, Murphy and I stand side by side and look up at the looming structure. The place doesn’t look any better from outside the car. But it doesn’t look worse either. Little wins.
Our driver sets the small carry-on I purchased on the sidewalk beside me. I picked up a few necessities for Murphy as well, all of which are packed inside it.
“Can’t get any worse.” With that, Murphy shuffles toward the building.
“Brian said the door at the back of the building leads to the second floor.” I rush after him.
We skirt the structure, and when we find the back entrance, I punch in the code Brian gave me.
The door opens to a very narrow stairway that leads straight up.
“This is the kind of place adults tell kids to stay away from…” Murphy shakes his head and steps onto the first stair. “And my dad moves into it.”
“At least there aren’t any cobwebs.” I don’t love spiders. I don’t love bugs in general. Especially ladybugs. A shiver races down my spine at the thought of the little red polka-dotted creatures. Gross.
When we get to the top of the stairs, I push the door open and step into a surprisingly large open living room full of…plants? Every window ledge is covered in potted plants. Every other flat surface too.
