Page 31 of Billionaire and the Barista

GABRIELLA

Irubbed the back of my neck. I had one arm wrapped around Robbie, who was half asleep. I was tired too. It had been a late night. A good night, full of friends and laughter, and conversation, but long. Lacey hadn’t been able to watch Robbie. And Jenny was a participant in our little group, so she wasn’t exactly available to watch him. So that meant my boy got to hang out with our little group.

It was an informal therapy session. It was my way of giving back and helping a community that had been there for me. I wanted to be there for them. It had started by having food available for some of the racers, and then I found out some of them weren’t eating regularly, that they were virtually homeless, that they didn’t know how to get out of bad situations. It snowballed and became a support group of sorts.

Mitch had been the original organizer. And I had a place to hold the meetings. The meetings were something between an addiction recovery group and a self-help network for finding jobs and places to live.

I wrapped my second arm around Robbie. “Hold tight baby,” I whispered into his hair.

I took the steps slowly. He had gotten so big. I swear he weighed more when he was tired, or extra squirmy. Sooner than I liked to admit, he would be too big for me to carry with ease.

I opened the apartment door and got to his room. I expected him to completely fall asleep as soon as I put him down. He muttered something and rolled over. I eased his shoes off and then had second thoughts about just letting him fall asleep.

He had done so well and had not had an accident in a long time. I hated for that accomplishment to end tonight because I was too tired to help him go potty before I let him go to sleep. He had plenty to eat and drink during tonight's gathering, and I couldn’t remember the last time he had gone to the bathroom.

“Hey sweetie, let’s go potty, then you can go to bed.”

Unfortunately, that woke him up, all the way. Robbie was animated and chatty when moments earlier he was mostly asleep. I would much rather be awake with him now than be woken in the middle of the night and have to struggle with a crying kid and a wet bed. There were trade-offs to being a parent, and this was one of them.

I didn’t wash his hands for him, but I did coach the process. “You need soap. Did you sing the ABCs to yourself? Are you sure? Use a towel.” I did provide more hands-on guidance with the toothbrush. Hands and face washed, teeth brushed, we returned to his room to get pajamas on.

“Why don’t I have a daddy?” His question caught me off guard. Robbie had never asked me about his father, or if he had one. I should have known this would happen eventually.

“Why are you asking me that?”

“The big boy,” Robbie began scratching at his neck, “with the marks. He’s really mad at his daddy.”

He meant River, with the neck tattoo. And yes, River and his father had a rocky relationship at best. Tonight, he had talked about how difficult it was. Especially now that he was clean, and his dad was still drinking. More often than not their fights went beyond yelling, and frequently River would have a black eye for a week as a result.

I had hoped Robbie was still too little and too distracted to be paying attention to the conversations when I had him at the meetings. He paid more attention than I realized, and he was now old enough to understand some of the problems we talked about.

“I don’t have a daddy to be mad at.”

I sat next to him on the bed and pulled him into my arms. I stroked Robbie’s hair and thought about how to do this. I didn’t want to lie to my son, but I also didn’t think he needed to know all of the details.

“You do have a daddy,” I confessed.

“I do? Where is he?” Robbie looked up at me with large eager eyes. Eyes like his father’s.

“Your father had to go away for his job. It took him far away, and it made me sad when he left,” I said.

“Why doesn’t he come home after work like they do on TV, or like Annie’s daddy?”

I swallowed. Why couldn’t this child of mine take any of my answers at face value and say okay, and be satisfied? Well, then he wouldn’t be my kid.

“Your friend Annie’s daddy lives with her, and he goes to work, and he comes home every night because his job is here.”— Because he’s not some selfish spoiled man who never paid attention to the fact that I couldn’t just up and leave everything. — “And he is married to Annie’s mommy. They are a family.”

“But we’re a family.”

“We are,” I agreed. “You and me.”

“So why isn’t my daddy in our family?” Robbie really wasn’t making this easy on me.

“Your daddy and I weren’t married, but we loved each other. Your daddy comes from a rich family that runs an important business. They needed him to do a job far away, so your daddy moved to another country. That’s why he’s not been around. But I’ll tell you a secret if you promise to stop asking so many questions and go to sleep.”

“Okay, I promise.” Robbie practically vibrated in my arms at the thought of knowing a secret.

“You’ll get to meet him someday. He’s a nice man. I think he’ll be happy to meet you.”

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