Better as Lovers by Jimi Gaillard-Jefferson

Author:Jimi Gaillard-Jefferson
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-04-14T04:00:00+00:00

Cahir

It felt like a drug deal. We met in the back of a Target parking lot. The last row of spaces in the far corner. The concrete kept the sun and the wind and sometimes the rain away. We didn’t talk. Tseday, Zion’s mother, would hand me one of those oversized lunchboxes, icepack and all, full of breast milk. I would hand her the empty lunchbox she gave me the week before and a room temperature icepack. In the beginning I would feel guilty that it wasn’t frozen, but what the fuck did I have to feel guilty about?

It was the worst part of my week. It was the only thing I wouldn’t let Cash share in. It was the only time I was happy to leave Olivia at home.

It hit me in the chest every time Tseday got out of her car. She looked like Zion which was its own kind of ache. I could see Olivia in her. That hit me like a fist to the chest. Every time. A surprise every single time. Loss of air. Rounded shoulders. Watery eyes and ringing ears. Off balance and feeling stupid because anyone could see how I got sucker punched.

But it wasn’t about me. I told that myself over and over and over again. It wasn’t about me. Everything wasn’t about me. Wasn’t that why Cash and I were in such a fucking mess? Because I thought it was? And even with the evidence right there I still struggled. Still wanted to tell someone how unfair it all was and how much I hated it. Still wanted to stay in my car and pretend I didn’t see her, didn’t need her, could cut myself off from that entire fucking family and finally move on with my goddamned life.

I took a deep breath and opened the car door.

“Hello.”

I lied. Sometimes Tseday spoke.

“Zion is better. Less of the tears. She asks after you. After the baby.” She tilted her head. She stood in front of her open car door. The car was still running. Because it was supposed to be quick. A frugal woman despite her wealth. I knew she knew she was wasting gas. And my time. But why would my time matter? Why would I? “I am wrong. She cried when she knew the baby’s name was still Olivia. She called out for you.”

“Here.” I gave her the empty bag. I held my hand out. I wasn’t, in that moment, who my mother raised me to be, but she probably never thought I would be in that kind of situation.

“Cahir.” She reached for me. She knew I couldn’t do that. I stepped back. “I know I do not deserve to ask but-The sounds of my daughter.”

“Yeah. I remember.” I rubbed a finger over my scars. “Why? Why are you asking me for anything?”

A ballsy woman. She didn’t bow her head. Didn’t blink. Strength. It didn’t matter. I had Cash to teach Olivia that.

“I-” Her hands smoothed over an already perfectly smooth skirt.

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