Page 45 of That First Night
“Yes?”
“Stop calling me Ms. Peyton.” I giggle. “Call me Peyton or Pey. That’s what my friends call me.”
“Do you want to be my friend?” he asks with a small head tilt and a frown on his face.
“I already am your friend, silly goose.” I laugh and ruffle my hands through his hair.
His face lights up like he just heard that Santa was about to walk through the door with an entire store full of toys for him. It makes my heart all fluttery at the thought of me being his friend making him so happy right now. Before I know it, James is crashing into me and wrapping his hands around my legs for the biggest hug and if I wasn’t paying attention, I would have missed the faint whisper of his voice into my legs when he says, “You’re my best friend.”
After getting James washed up in the tub with lavender and eucalyptus scented bubbles and into a fresh pair of pajamas, I can tell that it has helped soothe him a lot because he’s a little bit perkier. He was even able to eat some crackers and keep them down so I’m hoping he’s on the mend from whatever bug he has. After he was settled watching his cartoons, I noticed that he fell asleep on the couch again, so I took the opportunity to take the best shower of my life, which was so necessary after being puked on. I straightened my hair, which I practically never do, so I can look decent when Thomas gets home later. I need to talk to him about last night and move past this awkward stage. I bake some more chocolate chip cookies because you know, I do that shit when I’m stressed. I also clean, so the apartment is fucking spotless right now. There is no smell of vomit or signs that anyone here has been sick all day.
I hear the elevator doors ding as I place the throw blanket that was in the dryer over the back of the couch. I wonder if Thomas is home much earlier than expected, but then I hear a female voice and peek around the corner to see Emiline walking in.
“Hey, girl,” she says, putting her bags on the table. “How’s James doing today?”
“He’s doing much better now, thank God.” I smile. “It was a rough morning and there was a lot of puke. He had a nice bath, though, and kept some crackers down.”
“That’s great!” She beams. “Thank you so much for being here for him today. I will say it on behalf of my brother, since he’s such a fucking grouch and probably won’t thank you himself.”
I turn my gaze down to the floor and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Can I ask you something, Emiline? You can tell me if it’s too personal. But James said something today that made me curious.”
“Of course.”
“Where is James' mom?”
“Fuck if we know.” She laughs. “She hasn’t been in the picture since James was a month old. She was very set on pursuing her acting career or some shit. A child didn’t fit in that career path for her. She signed all rights over to Tommy. Why? What did James say?”
“After he got sick all over me.” I laugh. “He was asking for his mommy.”
“Oh wow.” Her eyes go wide. “Yeah, he’s done that before, here and there. He doesn’t remember her or know anything about her, but I think he sees other kids in school with their mom. A part of me thinks he craves that warm embrace of a mom. Does that make sense? I mean, have you met Tommy?” she scoffs, “he loves James so much, but he’s the least affectionate person on the planet. I don’t think he’s ever told anyone in his life that he loves them, besides James. When it comes to my brothers and I, Thomas finds ways toshow ushe loves us. We learned growing up that he doesn’t have to say it, we just know it.”
I feel my heart rate speeding up as I stand there and listen to her. I don’t understand how two people can have so much physical chemistry with each other and be totally opposite in every aspect of life. Was him pursuing me and kissing me, just about sex? Am I just someone in his life that he pays to watch his son but also there for a quick fuck in the kitchen when he needs it? My mouth is still on the floor, and I know I need to talk to Thomas.
I give Emiline a nod because I can’t find any other words to say back to her. Crossing the room, I reach for my phone on the coffee table to shoot Thomas a quick text message.
Your sister is here. She stopped by to see James.
Ok.
I guess we’re still doing one word text message replies. I want to come right out and ask him if everything is okay, but I don’t want to come across as clingy. Knowing my history with this sort of situation, it will lead to a disaster and in the end, I’m the one left with a broken heart. So, this is me working on my own personal relationship issues.
And the truth of the matter is, I’m not about to go there with my boss.
The last place I want to be right now is in the office and attending these mundane meetings on a fucking Sunday. I hate when James is sick because I know that he needs his dad there to make him feel better. It’s the recipe for kids getting better by snuggling with mom or dad. The issue is that his mom isn’t around, and she won’t ever be. I have to do the job for both of us, and today, I can’t be there for him.
Normally in this situation, I would have had to call Emiline or one of my brothers. None of them are comforting in the sense of being what he needs. I know my son and I know how he gets when he’s sick. He turns into a total cuddle bug, and he’s got this thing about making the house look like a movie theater with all the blinds drawn shut. James is lucky because I know without a doubt that Peyton will give him exactly what he needs today.
My thoughts drift to last night in the kitchen and how things ended so abruptly. I didn’t get any sleep because I was over-analyzing everything we did and wondering if this is something she regretted.Did I go too far?
This morning when I left, I maintained a professional composure because I know that’s what she’s also trying to do. She hasn’t said those words, but her body language says otherwise. She’s been sending me updates on James throughout the morning and I just keep giving her one-word answers because I apparently act like a fucking high-school kid around her. I don’t want to talk to her about jack shit until we can discuss last night, if I’m being honest. So yeah, I’m a highschooler today.
I’m disrupted from my thoughts when Marc comes flying into my office, the door rattling on the wall behind it. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, clearly out of breath.
“You’re not.”
“Wait, what?” he says, looking confused.
“I told you that the meeting for the 108th Street lease signing was at noon so you would show up on time.” I let out a chuckle. “We don’t have to be there until 12:30.”
