APRIL
The next week's Friday morning, Alaina is dragging her feet as she picks something to wear. "Honey, we need to hurry," I call out, slipping into my flats.
"I can't find my shirt!" she shouts back.
I hurry down the hallway and peek my head into her room. "What?"
"My softest shirt!" she says, and I see clothes being thrown out of her closet at a rapid speed.
I close my eyes and center myself, willing my temper not to rise. We're going to be late. All she needs to do is find a shirt, any shirt, and I don't want a tantrum. We don't have time for one. "Honey, we'll find it later," I say. "We need to go now. We don't have time to rip apart your entire closet." I clear my throat and say under my breath, "Even though it looks like you've already done that."
"I wantthatshirt!" she says, walking out of her closet. I see that she's dressed in a pair of gray leggings with pink polka dots with nothing on top.
"What shirt?" I ask. "What shirt are you talking about?"
"It has short sleeves," she says. "It's dark blue. It's my one that says 'strong like mom.'"
I know the shirt she's talking about. My sister, Alice, got it for her because she saw it at Target awhile ago and thought it was adorable. She got a size small, so it took Lainey a while to grow into it, and lately she's been wearing it like it's going out of style. I don't know where it went off to, but it doesn't surprise me that she's lost it. This room is a wreck.
"We'll just have to look later, babe," I say, picking a random shirt from her closet and handing it to her. "Here. This one is gonna have to do for today."
She looks at it. It's a short-sleeved ombre - starting white at the collar and fading to deep blue at the hem - obviously not what she had in mind. "But mommy…" she whines.
"I'm sorry, Laina, we just don't have time," I say shortly. "Put it on, please. We gotta go."
"Hmph, mommy," she says, but shoves the shirt on over her head anyway. "Can we find it when we get home from school?"
"Can you run a brush through your hair?" I ask, digging through her bathroom drawers to find her brush.
"I don't want to… will you?" she asks.
"Okay, come here," I say, and stand her between my knees as I sit down on the closed toilet lid. I yank the brush through her nearly-matted curls and she yelps in pain, moving away with her face scrunched up.
"You're hurting me!" she says, holding her head.
"You asked me to brush you," I say. "We need to get going. Mommy has sick people to help, and you have to get to school."
I run the brush through an especially difficult knot, and Alaina shrieks at the very top of her lungs. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose as she stands by the wall and cowers.
"Okay," I say. "A bun it is, then." I twist her hair up into a neat bun and guide her out of the bathroom by her shoulders. "Tonight, we're getting through that hair," I tell her. "I'll pick up some of that detangling spray on my way home from work. And we are brushing that hair."
She doesn't respond, but she puts her shoes on as I get both of our coats. I hurry into the school when we get there, and I see that Jackson is standing outside on the sidewalk with a highlighter-yellow vest on, waving at kids as they get out of their cars and head into the school.
"What are you doing?" I ask him, Alaina still by my side.
"Hi, Mr. Avery," she says.
"Morning, Miss Alaina," he says. "I like your bun."
"It's a'cause Mommy was gonna rip my hair out," she states, and I roll my eyes.
"If you'd let me brush it more often, we wouldn't have this problem," I say.
"Or," Jackson says. "We could just shave it all off and you could have as little hair as me."
Alaina's blue eyes widen. "No!" she squeals, then catches sight of one of her friends. "Julia!" she calls. "Mommy, can I go inside with Julia?"
"Sure, honey," I say, kneeling down to give her a kiss. "Have a good day."
"I love you!" she says as she starts to walk away.
I blow her a kiss. "I love you more," I say.
"Nuh-uh!" she laughs, and I shake my head at her as I wave one last time.
"So what are you doing out here in this lovely vest?" I ask, plucking at the sheeny fabric on Jackson's chest.
"Leave me alone," he says. "I'm the crossing guard today. Cecelia is sick, for like the first time in her entire life. I thought I'd lend a hand."
"You're sweet," I say, watching him as he stands in the middle of the crosswalk while a gaggle of kids trot across. When he comes back, I grab the front of his vest again and stand close to him, our faces mere inches apart. "And super cute."
He looks around to check if anyone's watching, and gives me a quick peck on the lips once he realizes that no one is. "Busy day today?" he asks.
I shrug one shoulder. "We'll see," I say. "Sometimes you never know. I'll be here to get her at regular time, though, instead of late." I pause for a second, running the yellow material through my fingers. "Do you wanna come over tonight after she's asleep? I miss you in bed next to me."
He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. "It's only been like, two days."
"So what?" I say. "I'm needy. Come over."
"Oh, don't twist my arm," he says, chuckling. "Sure. I can bring dinner, if you want."
"That'd be amazing," I say. "See you around 9?"
"I'll be there," he says.
"Alright," I say. "Have a good day. Don't let the kids gang up on you."
"I'll try," he says with a smile, then runs his thumb over the apple of my cheek. "See ya, beautiful."
I grin all the way back to my car. I don't think it fades from my face until I get to the hospital.
After I change into my scrubs and lab coat, I walk out of the lounge and join Arizona at the nurses' station where I'll look at my caseload for the day.
"Morning," I say, resting an elbow on the counter. It's been a couple days since I've seen her - our schedules have been completely opposite.
"Hey," she says with a smile, setting down her iPad to pick up a clipboard. "Oh, Jesus, April!"
My eyes widen as I look at her. "What?" I say. "Do I have something on my face? What?"
She giggles, pushing the lapel of my lab coat down so she can see more of my neck. "Just one question, are you dating a vampire? These hickies on your neck are insane. You look like a high-schooler."
I jolt away from her hands and situate my collar. My face is hot and I'm sure I must be blushing a brilliant red. "He likes my neck," I mutter.
"I can see that," Arizona smiles. "How's that going, by the way? Other than the fact that he's trying to suck your blood out."
I press my fingers self-consciously against the fading marks. Some are older than others, and I'd done my best in covering them with makeup. I guess I hadn't done as good of a job as I'd thought. "It's going really well," I say. "I really like him."
"Your eyes are sparkling," she says, tapping me on the shoulder. "I've never seen you like this before."
I wave her off. "We're still taking things slow. But he… yeah. He's really great. He's coming over tonight, actually, and bringing dinner."
"Have you told Alaina about him yet?" she asks.
I shake my head. "I haven't figured out how or when," I say. "She's been doing okay lately. But I've been so worried about how the custody hearings are gonna go… telling her hasn't been on the forefront of my mind. I really want to. I hate keeping her in the dark. But I don't want to upset her little life again while something so big is going on."
"I get it," Arizona says. "When's that first hearing, by the way?"
"Next week Wednesday," I say. "I'm off for it."
"How do you think it's gonna go?"
I shrug and trace the edges of my iPad absentmindedly. "I honestly don't know," I admit. "My lawyer and I put together a strong petition and sent it in, but who knows what he's already done? I have no idea what he's going to pull."
"What kind of pull does he even have?" my friend asks. "He ditched you guys and didn't have contact for two years. How's that an example of competent parenting?"
"It's not," I say, voice lowering. "That's what I've been trying to tell myself. But it's just scary, the concept of not having her. If it works out that she has to be with him, even every other weekend or something equally as small, it's going to turn her whole life upside down. She doesn't like him. And he can't get what he did through his head."
"He's an asshole," she says.
"I'm very aware," I say, and shake my head. "God, I can't believe I ever married him."
"Hey, hey, hey," she says. "No. Don't go saying that, blaming yourself. He was different then, you didn't know. And you made that beautiful little girl out of it. You can't look back on the past like that - this is not your fault."
"Yeah," I sigh. "I know. I just wish it could've worked out differently. He's making everything so difficult."
"I wish that for you, too," she says. "He's only thinking about himself. If he had any consideration at all, he'd be taking things step by step. Diving back into parenthood headfirst is not gonna work."
"He doesn't get that," I say.
"Obviously not. Was he ever a good father?" she asks.
"At one point, yeah," I admit. "He was. He loved her, or at least I thought he did. But how much could he really love either of us if he could just up and leave like that?"
"Yeah," Arizona muses. "I don't know. It's just messed up on so many levels. If you wanna talk about the hearing as it gets closer, you know I'm all ears. I don't want you bottling it up and going crazy."
"Thanks," I say.
"And one more thing," she says as her pager beeps. "I think you should tell Alaina soon about you and Jackson. She might not consciously know it, but she'll appreciate the truth. And you're an awesome mom, you'll figure out a good way to break it to her."
"You think so?" I ask, hearing a hint of nervousness in my voice.
"Definitely," she says. "I mean, you don't have to. But that's just what I think. Be an open book with her; it'll make her feel better while this whole thing is going on."
"You're right," I say. "I know you're right. I just don't want to shake her up."
"I think she'll be fine with it," Arizona says. "She loves you and from what you've told me, she loves Jackson, too. She'll probably be super jazzed about it." She looks down at her pager. "I gotta get going. Talk to you later, okay?"
"Sounds good," I say, and set down my iPad as I head to the ER.
Alaina and I have a nice night together. I make her favorite chicken noodle soup with homemade noodles, and we clean up her room as a team. We have a good time even though we don't find the shirt she'd ripped it apart for - we end up laughing on our backs on the floor more times than I can count.
As she eats her dessert - pudding in a cup with oreo sprinkles in it - she hums happily and smiles at me when I sit down next to her. I think about what Arizona said earlier, and try to piece together what I want to tell my daughter. I'm not exactly sure of what to say, but I know I want to say something. I really took Arizona's words to heart.
"Lainey," I say, and she looks at me with her spoon hanging out of her mouth, eyes bright. "I wanna talk to you about something." She nods happily and continues to eat. "You know how you have your best friends at school?" I ask.
"Yeah," she says, licking her lips. "All my friends."
"Right," I say. "Well, I don't know if you know this, but Mommy doesn't have that many friends-"
"You have me!"
"Yes, I have you," I say, touching her chin. "And you're the best. But grownup friends, I don't have many of those. And sometimes, I get lonely. Especially when you're asleep."
"You can come sleep in my bed, if you want," she says, stirring up her pudding.
I chuckle. "Maybe. But I'm talking about like, grownup friends that are more my age, you know? I don't have a lot of those, but I think I made a good one recently. I wanted to tell you about him, because you know him." She flits her eyes to meet mine. "It's Mr. Avery. Would it be okay if he hung out here with us sometimes?" I ask. I want to be as open as I can. "I want to make sure it's okay with you. He and I have become really good friends."
"Is he your boyfriend?" she asks curiously.
A smile sneaks onto my lips. "Um, actually he is," I say.
Her eyes widen. "Are you his girlfriend?" she asks.
I'm fully grinning now. "Yes, Lainey," I say. "Is that alright with you? Would you be okay with seeing him around our house?"
"He lives at my school," she says. "He would like coming to see a house."
I laugh. "So you don't mind?" She shakes her head and takes one last bite of her treat. I stand up and give her a hug, saying, "Thanks, baby. Your opinion means a lot to me. You know that?"
By the time she goes to bed, Alaina's whooped from the long day and falls asleep with her head on my lap as I'm reading the book 'Callie Cat, Ice Skater' to her.
When I finish the story, I close the book gently and set it off to the side, and spend a moment just looking at her sleeping face. I had done as I promised and picked up detangling spray on the way home, and it had worked wonders for her hair. Right now, it's lying smooth over her head in a way it hasn't done in a long time, and I can easily run my fingers through the curls. People frequently say that she looks like me, and in this moment I can see it - her cheeks, her chin, and the shape of her eyes are all mine. As I gaze down at her, I feel an overwhelming sense of pride just in the fact that she's mine and I created her.
I kiss her temple slowly and shift her head onto the pillow. "I love you," I say. "I'll always love you more."
Of course, she doesn't respond as I pull the covers up over her shoulders. I give her one last kiss and switch her bedroom light off, heading downstairs just as I hear a soft rap on the front door. I open it with a smile and see Jackson there with Chinese takeout in both hands.
"I come bearing gifts," he says.
"Get in here," I say, beckoning him forward. "I'm starving."
"How was the little one tonight?" he asks, taking out the boxes and setting them on the counter.
"So good," I say. "She even cleaned with me. And let me brush her hair."
"Damn," he says. "Sounds like a successful night."
I open a box of rice and dish some out onto a plate. "It really was," I say. "It was great." I sigh happily. "How was yours?"
"Good," he says. "I'm so tired, though. I can't wait to lay down."
I smirk at him and lean forward for a kiss. "Next to me," I say.
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
I giggle and dig in the bag, coming across about ten fortune cookies as I reach inside. "Hey!" I exclaim, putting them out on the counter. "How did you know I'm obsessed with fortune cookies?"
He shrugs. "I didn't," he says. "I just asked for a few more because I love them."
"Ilove them," I say, kissing him again. "They're so fun."
"And great life coaches," he says, laughing.
We talk about our days while we eat, trading stories about both school and the hospital. Once we're full and happy, he helps me clean up the dishes and stretches with his arms high over his head.
"Are you sleepy?" I ask, padding up to him and wrapping my arms around his waist.
"Mm-hmm," he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
I bend my neck so I can look up at him. "Well let's go up to bed, then. You need your rest."
We pull back the covers and get into bed. I crawl over to him right away and set my chin down on his chest. "I told Alaina about us tonight," I say.
He raises his eyebrows. "You did?"
"Yeah," I say. "She took it well, actually. Way better than I thought she would. I'm really happy about it."
"That's awesome," he says, curling a bit of my hair behind my ear. "Geez, now she's probably gonna be bragging all over the classroom."
I kiss him softly on the lips. "Sorry about that."
I situate my body so it's resting overtop of his, and he skims his hands around my waist to rest on the small of my back and keep me close. "You're giving me a second wind, woman," he says.
"I know," I say, opening my mouth against his with a smile.
He dips his hands inside the back of my shirt, running up my bare skin slowly so he can pull the fabric off over my head. I'm braless underneath, and he turns us over so I'm lying down and he's hovering over me, drinking in the sight of my naked chest.
"So we're pretty exclusive now," he murmurs, lips on my neck.
"Mm-hmm," I say, running my fingers down his sculpted triceps.
"It's kinda turning me on," he says, and the insistent hardness pressing against my inner thigh tells me just how true that is.
"Wanna make out for a while?" I ask, framing his face with both hands.
"Forever sounds good," he says, palming my breast.
I giggle into his mouth and wrap one leg around his, pressing the bottom of my foot to the back of his calf. "Arizona saw my neck today and freaked," I say.
"What about it?" he asks mischievously.
"You know…" I say. "You're obsessed with leaving marks on me."
He chuckles darkly, mouth open on my shoulder. "I just want people to know you're taken," he says.
"I think you've made that pretty clear," I say.
"You're mine," he says. "I don't want anyone getting ideas."
"You're so possessive," I say, scratching down his back. "I never knew that about you."
"Learn something new every day," he says, pressing lazy kisses across my sternum and then lower. I smirk when he covers my breast and sucks the nipple into his mouth, pressing his hips persistently against my groin.
"Stop…" I whine playfully, pushing up on his pelvis.
"We're still on the sex strike?" he murmurs, moving his lips down to the middle of my ribcage.
"You're the one who put it in place," I say. "I've been obeying yourrules."
"Stupid-ass rules," he says, finding his way to the band of my underwear. Today, they're white with multicolored stars on them. "Cute," he says with a chuckle, in reference to them.
"Shut up," I say. "They were on clearance."
"You're a surgeon, you make way more money than me, and yet you're still the cheapest shit I know," he says.
"Enough out of you," I say. "And get your hand out from between my legs if you aren't gonna follow through."
"I will, if you let me," he says, looking up with a sly grin.
"We're not doing that," I say. "You're supposed to be kissing me, and you're tempting me instead. You're a horrible boyfriend."
He slinks up so our heads are aligned, murmuring, "Say that again."
"What?" I say. "That you're horrible?"
He shakes his head and laughs. "No, the other part."
"Oh, you like that word?" I say, holding his face between my hands and grinning goofily. "You're my boyfriend, Jackson."
He closes his eyes and kisses me hard, tilting his head so our lips angle against each other. "I wanna make you comeso bad," he says.
"Sex ban," I murmur, trailing my hands down his sides.
"You're blue-balling me," he says.
"You blue-balled yourself," I answer, moving my mouth lower to kiss his chin. "We should get some sleep, anyway. We have soccer in the morning."
He plunks his forehead down on my collarbone and lets out a long, dramatic sigh. "You kill me," he says.
I still feel his erection pressing into my thigh. "I'll stay awake and wait for you if you wanna go take care of that in the shower," I whisper, reaching lower to accidentally-on-purpose graze my hand over it.
"Fuck you," he says jokingly, and awkwardly gets off the bed to walk towards the bathroom. I hear the water come on and giggle to myself as I change into my pajamas, and he comes back a few minutes later considerably calmer and smelling like my shampoo.
"You smell like me," I say, gravitating to his side. "How was your hand?"
"Shut up. And I thought I'd wash up while I was in there," he says. "Might as well." He pulls my body flush to his side and I wrap my arm around his waist and squeeze. I kiss his bare chest slowly and he strokes my hair, eyes open and staring at the ceiling as mine are threatening to drift shut. "Is it gonna be okay that I'm here in the morning?" he asks after a long period of silence.
"Mm-hmm," I say sleepily. "I'll answer any questions she has. Don't worry about it." I pat his belly. "But it's nice that you're worried about it." I give him another slow kiss on the chest. "Good night, Jackson."
I hear him smile, if that's possible, as he kisses my hairline. "Good night."
"Sleep tight," I say. "Don't let the bedbugs bite."
"The only bedbug here is you," he says, playfully digging the pads of his fingers into my shoulder.
I barely have the time to laugh before I drift off.
In the morning, I wake up sweaty and sticky with a heavy man-arm draped over my middle. I try to turn over and situate, but Jackson has made that completely impossible. I grunt and lift my hips, trying to get the weight off of me, but he's dead asleep.
I pick his arm up and give it back to him, but it finds its way back to me before I can fall back to sleep. I smirk and roll my eyes, then pick it up and return it again. "Get off me," I whisper. "I know you're awake."
"Mmm," he murmurs, making a sound low in his throat as he presses lazy morning kisses to the back of my neck. "Why are you so wiggly? Hold still."
"Maybe because I wanna be able to breathe," I laugh. "You're heavy."
"I'm hurt," he says. "Fat joke."
"Shush."
He pulls me towards him so my back is flush against his chest after I'd scooted away, and hugs me tight from behind. "Morning," he says.
"Hi," I reply, and flip over onto my back so he can kiss me. I frame his face with one hand and smile up at him, feeling a thousand gushy feelings run through me as I look at his bleary eyes and sleepy smile.
I get up and change into a sports bra and leggings, tying my hair up as I walk out of my closet. "I swear you're doing this on purpose," he says from where he still lies on my bed, staring at me.
"Before Alaina wakes up on Saturday mornings, I do some yoga in the living room," I tell him. "You can go back to sleep, if you want."
He gets out of bed and pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. "And miss yoga?" He laughs. "You're joking."
He sits on the couch while I go through my stretches and deep breathing, trying to touch me as many times as he can. I swat him away with a smirk each time, especially when he goes for my ass.
"You are insufferable," I say. "How am I supposed to get centered when you keep groping me?"
"Guess you can't," he says.
Interrupting our banter, I hear soft footsteps come down the stairs and Alaina appears in the kitchen entryway with her blanket trailing behind her and her hair sticking up every which way.
"Good morning, my baby!" I say enthusiastically.
"Were you doing yoga?" she asks, padding over to deposit herself on my lap. She looks at Jackson - studies him, actually - from where she sits and looks up at me, our faces merely inches apart. "Why's Mr. Avery here?" she asks.
I swipe her hair out of her face. "Remember, we talked about it last night? He's gonna be around more because he's my really good friend."
"Oh, yeah," she says. "Your boyfriend."
"Yeah," I say. "So he's gonna be hanging out here a lot. That's still okay with you, right?" She nods.
"And hey," Jackson says. "Out of school, you can call me Jackson."
"But your name's Mr. Avery," Alaina says.
"Avery is my last name," Jackson says. "Jackson is my first name. And out of school, it'd be kinda weird for you to call me by my last name, right?" A tiny smile ghosts Alaina's lips as she shrugs. "Try it out when you feel like it. I like being called by my first name when I'm not at work."
"Do you call him Jackson, mommy?" Alaina asks.
I nod. "I sure do," I say.
"Okay," she says.
Later, the Flamingos lose their soccer game yet again, but no one minds too much. After the game is over, Jackson and I are standing in the parking lot after just getting major shit from Mark Sloan when he saw Jackson give me a chaste kiss on the cheek.
"I left a surprise for you at your house," Jackson tells me.
"You did?" I ask, opening the back door so Alaina can climb in. "What is it?"
"Find out," he says. "Find out, and I'll see you tonight."
"You'll see me tonight?" I say, confused. "But we didn't make-"
"I'll see you tonight," he solidifies, and gives me a firm kiss on the mouth.
I get into the driver's seat still shaking my head, and head home without being able to stop thinking about what the surprise might be. When we get there, Alaina trots inside still in her cleats and kicks them off by the door, heading up to her room.
"Mommy!" she calls down, almost immediately. "Mommy!"
"What is it, honey?" I answer back, still hanging up our coats by the front door.
"There's something on my bed!"
Concerned, I slip out of my shoes and head upstairs to find out what she means. I walk into her room and find her pointing at an outfit laid out for her - a long sleeved pink dress with a peter pan color, gray tights and black ankle boots - with a note next to it.
"What's this say?" she asks, picking up the paper.
I read it out loud to her. "Alaina, be ready in this outfit by 5 o'clock pm. We're going someplace special, and I'll be there to pick you and your mom up. PS, tell her to check her bed, too. Your friend, Jackson."
She looks up at me excitedly. "Go check your bed, go check your bed!"
We both hurry down the hallway to my room, where he's done the same thing. My outfit is a tad different, though - black jeans, a teal spaghetti-strap tank top and a black blazer to wear overtop of that. I read my note out loud too. "April, put this on and be ready by 5. We're going somewhere special, it's going to be great. Can't wait to see you both."
I look at my daughter with raised eyebrows and an energetic expression, saying, "I think he's inviting us out on a date!"
Alaina and I wait inside our front door dressed in the outfits that Jackson picked for us at 5pm that night. "Where are we going?" she asks.
I shrug. "I don't know. It's a surprise to me, too."
"Are you tricking me?"
"No!" I laugh. "I really don't know."
There's a knock on the door, and we open it to find Jackson standing there with his hands behind his back. "Good evening, ladies," he says smoothly. "You both look absolutely beautiful."
I smile at him with a hand on Alaina's shoulder. "Thank you," I say.
"I brought something for the both of you," he says, taking his hands out. "Daisies for the little lady, and roses for her beautiful mother."
"Flowers!" Alaina squeals, taking them and breathing them in. "They smell so pretty."
I beam down at my daughter and how happy she is. She's glowing. "Thank you," I tell him again, but I mean it so much deeper.
"Where are we going?" Alaina asks. "Where are we going, where are we going?"
"You'll see," Jackson says. "But you have to keep blindfolds on in the car. That way you won't peek 'til we get there."
We put our flowers in water and get comfortable in his car. He ties black material around Alaina's eyes gently, then comes to the front seat to do the same to me. "Maybe this won't be the last time I tie a blindfold on you," he murmurs directly into my ear, and I flush red.
"Everybody ready?" he asks, and I hear him sit down in the front seat. "Remember, no peeking."
"We know!" Alaina says.
I lean back against the headrest and close my eyes to resist any temptation. I lose track of the turns very quickly into the ride, and when the car comes to a complete stop and he throws it into park, I have no idea where we are.
"Okay, blindfolds off," he says.
We do as we're told, and Alaina cheers instantly. "Chuck E. Cheese!" she shouts, and I smile as I look over at him.
"You dressed me like this for Chuck E. Cheese?" I ask lightly.
"Hopefully that mouse doesn't get any funny ideas," he says.
We walk through the parking lot, Alaina's hand tucked into mine, and burst into the arcade. Jackson buys Alaina a ton of tokens, even through my protests. It's an insane amount that he gives her, and her eyes light up like Christmas morning.
"I'm gonna win everything!" she announces, jetting off to find a game to blow them on.
"You're so sweet for doing this," I say, sitting down at a nearby table. We put a pizza order in, and I stare at him with my fist resting against my cheek. "I would've never expected this."
"That's why I did it," he says. "I knew it'd make her happy."
I hold one of his hands on his lap. "Where did you come from?"
He kisses my cheek without answering with words, and that's okay.
Alaina works her tail off and wins a ton of tickets, so many that they drag behind her when she walks up to us. We cash in her winnings for useless little toys that she'll lose in a week, but right now she's proud and happy. And that's all that matters.
She sits on my lap while eating a couple pieces of pizza, and falls asleep once she's done. I kiss the top of her head and wrap my arms around her back as her head rests on my collarbone, closing my eyes and just relishing the feeling of my daughter breathing against me.
"You rocked her world today," I tell Jackson, who's half-watching a puppet show happening across the room.
His eyes wander over to me with a smile. "You both deserved it," he says.
"Shame I didn't get to play any arcade games," I say. "I could've schooled your ass."
"Yeah, right," he says. "Saved you the embarrassment, more like."
"You wish," I retort, rubbing Alaina's back. "I would've made you feel so bad about yourself. It would've ruined our date, and I really didn't wanna do that to you."
"Full of shit," he laughs. I look at him with shining eyes, and he tips his head to one side. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks.
I shake my head a little and look away. "I always look at you like this," I say.
"Bullshit," he responds.
I chuckle, leaning forward carefully to give him a soft kiss. "You're the best," I say.
"I do what I can."
With each day that passes after Saturday, my mood gets significantly worse. My anxiety heightens as Wednesday - the hearing day - approaches. I bury myself in my work at the hospital to try and get my mind off it, but nothing helps.
On Tuesday night, I barely sleep at all. Getting up in the morning is a struggle, and I'm still rubbing my eyes and yawning as I help Alaina pick out clothes. We have a tiff over whether she should be wearing long or short sleeves, leggings under her skirt or no leggings, and I have to insist that it's colder outside than she thinks.
When I drop her off at school, Jackson gives me a smile as he stands in the doorway of their classroom. "Hey, girls," he says, then notices my solemn face. "Oh. Oh, god. It's Wednesday."
"Can I talk you in private for a second?" I ask. I wouldn't normally ask something like this of him, but today is different. I'm not even sure how I'm still standing vertical right now.
"Sure," he says, then calls to the teacher in the next room over to watch over his classroom for a second.
We walk down the hallway until we can round a corner to a deserted little area. "I'm freaking out," I admit.
He wraps his arms around my shoulders in a tight embrace. "I know," he says, pulling away to move a strand of my hair with his finger. "What time is it at?"
"Noon," I say.
"Do you want me there?" he asks.
I look at him with wide eyes. "You… you have school, you can't just leave."
He repeats the same question with more poignancy. "Do you want me there?"
"I- yes, of course I do," I say. "But-"
"Then I'll find a way to be there. Text me the address of the courthouse and I'll be there, a little before noon." He checks both ways, then gives me a soft kiss on the lips as he holds my face. "If you need me, I'm gonna be there. I don't want you to have to do this alone."
My throat clogs up. "Thank you," I manage to say.
I bid him goodbye and head back home to get myself together. I know looks matter - so I spend ample time on my hair, makeup and outfit. I want to look as put-together as I possibly can to make a good impression on the judge.
Just as I've finished curling my hair, my stomach jolts. I make eye contact with myself in the mirror then lean forward on the counter, willing it not to happen, but I know it's going to. I rush to the toilet and hold onto the bowl with shaking hands and throw up everything I managed to choke down earlier - which was only half an apple and a few bites of oatmeal - and stay there on my knees just in case it happens again.
Luckily, it doesn't, but I still can't stop shaking. I'm so scared. I can't lose Alaina to Matthew, not even a little bit. I can't bear the thought of sending her off to his house against her will.
I wipe the back of my mouth and stand up straight, knowing that I have to leave soon. I have to pull myself together. I can do this. We'll get through this. We won't let him win.
I get to the courthouse and walk inside to find Jackson already standing there leaning against the stair railing, looking down at his phone. When he hears my heels clicking towards him, he looks up and flashes me a closed-lipped smile.
"Hey," he says, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. "How are you holding up?"
"Horrible," I say. "How did you get away from the school?"
"I told them I had an emergency appointment. They hired a sub for the rest of the day 'til after-school," he says.
"You really didn't have to do this for me," I say.
"Yes, I did," he says. "I wanted to, number one. Supporting you is important to me. And two, you're my girlfriend. This is your kid, who you love more than life. I'm gonna be here for you. It's scary as fuck. You need a support system, April, I got you."
I manage a small smile. "Thank you," I say.
He takes my hand and we walk up the stairs towards where the hearing will be and meet my lawyer outside the doors. We go through some preliminary points - today's session shouldn't last too long. We're just laying the information out for the judge, and we'll come back at a later date to get a decision. Still, it doesn't help my nerves. I hate even being in the same room as Matthew, talking about the only thing left of the life we once shared.
Jackson sits behind me on the benches while the trial goes on. For most of it, I'm lost in my own head. I don't have to do any speaking - Rachael does it all - but I can't stop glancing over at Matthew. He and Leah are sitting beside their lawyer together, heads bent close whenever they whisper to each other. Burning rage boils in my gut when I see the two of them acting like some makeshift family. If I wouldn't get thrown in jail for it, I'd knock back my chair, walk over there and beat them senseless.
But of course, I can't do that.
I spend a lot of the time in there praying. With my hands clasped in my lap and my eyes centered straight ahead, I talk to God about what's going to come of this. I try to find comfort and listen to what He has to say in response, but I can't hear Him in here. There's too much other stuff going on.
When it ends, I'm in a hurry to get out of that room. Rachael takes me aside once she walks out a few minutes later, ready to debrief me on what she knows, but as we're standing there outside the door, Matthew and Leah linger close by.
"Not here," I say under my breath, looking over my shoulder at them. "Someplace private."
I leave Jackson waiting outside the door as Rachael pulls me into the women's bathroom. "Judge McNary doesn't like that you aren't married," she says, cutting straight to the point. "He's old-school. He sees Matthew and Leah as a functioning married couple with 9-5 jobs. That looks great on paper. And he sees you as a single mom who works unpredictable hours, who depends on the after-school program when you can't get out of work in time. That doesn't look great to him, April. To him, it looks like you're struggling."
"I-..." I open my mouth to refute her, but I realize that I can't. On paper, that is how this case looks. It doesn't weigh in my favor at all, not when you look at it like that.
"It doesn't all depend on that, though," Rachael says, trying to comfort me. "You make more money than the two of them put together. The no-contact thing, that's big. That has weight. But McNary also likes that Matthew wants to make an effort now, he sees that as a good sign. A change of heart." She shakes her head. "I wish we would've gotten a female judge, but we can't change that." She plants a hand on my shoulder. "We're gonna figure this out, I promise. The next hearing date will go better."
I look into her eyes and try to decipher if she's being genuine, but I can't. "Okay," I say weakly, and lead the way out of the bathroom.
Jackson and I sit on a bench outside the courthouse, hip-to-hip, not saying anything for a while. He runs his thumb over my hand - a small, comforting motion that I appreciate. When I open my mouth, it feels like I haven't spoken in forever.
"It doesn't look good that they're married and I'm not," I say. "The judge liked their work hours and how dependable they look on paper." I stare down at my knees, narrowing my eyes as I feel the tears threaten to come. "It's not fair. I'm her mother. I know how to take care of her. I… I know her."
Jackson's grip tightens on my hand, and when I look at him I see that his expression is very concentrated. He clears his throat and says, "So let's get married."
My heart drops to my feet and all of the blood washes from my face. I feel my hand's grip go slack in his. "Jackson, what?" I stammer. "What are you talking about? You barely know me."
He turns to look at me, and I realize that my body is trembling. "But I want to get to know you," he says. "And you're not you without Alaina. She has to stay with you, we have to make that happen. So if I have to marry you to date you, that's something I'm willing to do."
