Page 50 of Don't Leave Me
12
A few days later
Marc
My phone ringingwoke me from a dream. In a state of semi-sleep, I answered it.
“Hello?”
“Marc, I’m so sorry, I know how early it is, but I’m in a bind and I thought maybe you could help.”
I blinked. “Ash? That’s not possible. You’re dead.”
Because she had been, in my dream. She was dead and gone and I was still in prison because they’d decided they were never going to let me out. I didn’t care. I’d been dreaming. Then my phone rang, and now Ashleigh was talking to me.
“Marc! Wake up!”
Suddenly, I was awake. Pulling the phone away from my ear, I could see it was just after five in the morning. I sat up and tried to rub the sleep from my eyes. These past few days, I’d been out of town doing some surveillance work. I’d texted Ash before I left so she wouldn’t think I’d bailed on her, and I’d texted her last night to let her know I was back in town.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Bad dream. What’s wrong? Is it Danny?”
“Sort of. Sandra just called to tell me she’s sick and can’t watch Danny. Normally, I would let Candy handle the morning, but I’ve got two big orders that have to be filled today, and she’s not going to be able to do it all.”
I was still a little groggy. “Do you need me to bake something?”
“No,” she said, clearly exacerbated with me. “I was hoping you could watch Danny. Just for a few hours while I fill the orders and get Candy set up.”
“You mean on my own? Without you there?”
“Never mind. I’ll just take him with me, and Candy can watch him—”
“No,” I barked, over her words. “I can do it. I just wasn’t thinking. Give me a few minutes to put some clothes on and I’ll be right over.”
I set the world record for teeth brushing and mild grooming before I was dressed and making my way down her street. She’d reached out to me. She wanted me to watch the kid on my own.
Jesus, what if I did something wrong? What if he got hurt or sick on my watch? She’d never trust me again. What the hell did I know about watching a kid? I’d held him, like, two times. Read him a couple books. Put him in a highchair and fed him chicken nuggets and broccoli tots.
This did not seem like enough experience to watch him full time.
But, Ash had called me. Because she trusted me. So, this was important.
I knocked on the door and she opened it with a crying baby in her arms. She was rocking him on her hip and attempting to push something in his mouth.
“This is not going to work,” she said, as soon as I stepped inside. “He’s teething and being fussy about it.”
“So? I can handle fussy.” I had no idea if I could handle fussy. But in that moment, I realized it didn’t matter what I thought I could or could not handle. Danny was my son. Mine. If I was going to be any kind of father to him, it meant I had to be there for him when he was being sweet and funny, as well as when he was hurting and letting everyone know it.
I took him from her arms and settled him on my hip. He was still crying and rubbing his snotty nose on my T-shirt sleeve, but I didn’t care. I reached for the plastic thing she had in her hand. It was frozen and now it made sense why she was encouraging him to gnaw on it, but when I held it up to him, he pushed it away with both hands.
“I got this,” I told her, feeling way more confident than I had just a few minutes ago.
“You’re sure?” she asked. I could hear the trepidation in her voice.
“You called me, remember?”
She nodded. “I did. I guess if you’re going to be in his life that means taking the good with the bad. So, I don’t feel guilty I’m leaving you with a crying baby. I left instructions on the kitchen table. Call me if you think it’s too much. I can always come back or send Candy to get him.”
I looked down at the kid, who was now looking up at me like he only just realized he was being held by a virtual stranger. I made a funny face, and, while that didn’t make him laugh, it seemed to relax him.
