Chapter 2
"I know baby, Mommy loves you too, but I'll pick you up tomorrow okay?"
"When to . . . tomorrow?"
I could hear the uncertainty in her voice and part of me just wanted to jump into a ride and bring her home with me, but if I didn't take this gap now I knew I didn't know when I'd get one again and I just needed to clear my head or at least take a step back.
"Mommy?"
Her voice sounded even more baby-like over the phone, even though I knew she was technically a toddler. "That's just one sleep at Nana's house and then I'll see you tomorrow, okay baby?"
"'kay."
"I love you so much!" I tried to sound upbeat and enthusiastic. "How much?"
She laughed then. "So much!"
I felt a little relief at hearing her laugh. "Clever girl! Now give the phone to Nana, I think she wants to talk to Mommy."
There was a muffled exchange before I heard my mother's sarcastic tone. "Catherine, when are you going to stop messing around and just get back with Eddie already? The child needs the stability of two parents. Or at least one stable parent and that sure isn't you!"
I took a deep breath to center myself before I answered her. I wasn't surprised as this was her game plan into fixing my life. She didn't really care about the other stuff and told me that in her day it was 'just handled'. "Mom, I'm working on something that's been taking up a lot of my time and – "
"Don't play that excuse card with me Catherine. You know as well as I do what you need to do, but you're too busy playing career woman when you should be playing family!"
I sighed. "Look Mom, I'll pick up Lindsay tomorrow okay? Goodnight." I hung up the phone and Nick was standing in front of me smiling with 2 bottles of beer and an ice pack in consolation.
"How's Lindsay?" He asked as he sat down and put my beer on the coffee table.
"She's okay." I shook my head and placed the ice pack on my wrist, wincing. "She still wants to be with me though. Ow, shit this stings."
"You sure we shouldn't get that checked out?" He nodded towards the ice pack. On the way over he kept insisting we should pop into the ER just to be safe, so I swiped his keys and drove instead.
"I'm fine Nick," I said and rolled my eyes. "Honestly, I've been worse. I think it's just been a while and I wasn't always able to ice up."
He moved the ice pack to see, but it was still swelling and starting to color now. "I'm really sorry you still have to go through this," he said as he whisked his fingers over the bruising so gently I didn't even feel it.
I softened with his concern. "I'm okay Nicky," I murmured. "I got out and – "
"Yeah but this pig is still making your life hell and with all you've been through it isn't fair to you and it isn't fair to Lindsay." He shook his head in disgust and downed some of his beer.
"I know he's her father, but that's what I'm worried about. I can't let Eddie have custody – even 50/50 – and I'm starting to think I should request supervised visitations. The only thing is one wrong move on my part and he'll take me down because he knows he can. Lindsay doesn't even want to go there anymore and when I'm home she's attached to my hip."
"Name one 3 year old who doesn't want to be with their mother. Sometimes it's a little separation anxiety." In the process of taking off his work boots now, he turned and glanced at me.
"How would you know about separation anxiety in toddlers?" I frowned slightly curious and took my first sip, leaning back with the ice pack in toe to rest my feet on his coffee table.
"Uh Cath, not that I mind but please take your shoes off first," he said as he pointed at the coffee table with his beer bottle.
I was taken aback because most guys – bachelors – weren't really too perturbed about stuff like that, but then again Nick wasn't like most guys. "Shit, yeah sure – sorry about that." I gave him my beer to hold and slid the ice pack onto the couch while I slipped out my boots and immediately felt a little release of freedom. Instead of stretching my legs out on the coffee table, I tucked them underneath me and took my beer, resuming the ice pack at the same time. "So you never answered my question." I drummed my fingers against the bottle in mock impatience.
"Simple answer? Siblings." He shrugged and took a swing of his beer.
"Simple answer? What is that!" I gently punched him in the arm with my good hand.
"I just have a lot of siblings and quite a few were younger than me." He shrugged and gave me that exclusive Nick Stokes smile that made my heart flutter a little.
"Well you learn something new every day, so I guess this is my 'today'," I said laughing. "As for me it's just my sister and with Lindsay, well I'd never ever bring another child into this world under those circumstances."
"She's great though Cath. She's not a brat and she doesn't whine like some 3 year olds I've seen. She takes after you. She's smart and picks things up quickly, whether it's doing something physical or how to read a room and people."
"Yeah," I sighed. "That's part of the problem, actually. Sometimes I think she's too smart for her own good at her age." I sipped and felt the yeasty taste bubble a little as I swallowed. "It's starting to affect her though – didn't you notice how she's stuttering? She knows what she wants to say, but sometimes she can't always get the words out and I know it frustrates her and getting worked up doesn't help; it only makes it worse. She doesn't understand why it's happening and she hasn't questioned me about it – yet."
"So you're saying this shit with Eddie is actually having a physical affect on her?" Nick raised his eyebrows. "You don't think?" And he left me to fill in the blanks.
"Who? Eddie? No, definitely not. If it were me he wouldn't think twice, but he'd never hurt Lindsay. He might be a shitty father, but he'd never abuse her."
The ice pack was beginning to melt and I lifted it to check it again. It had stunted the swelling, but that was as good as it was going to get. "I think this has helped as much as it's going to Nick and it's starting to melt." I stood up and placed my beer on the coffee table. "Where can I dispose?"
"Wait, let me do it." He moved to stand and I used one hand to push him back into the couch.
"Relax Nicky, it's not my foot I've injured. I can walk." I smiled cheekily.
He shook his head and smiled. "Okay, you can just drop it in the kitchen sink – door's straight ahead and a little to the left."
"I know. I don't need one of these You Are Here maps." I could hear him chuckling as I padded with socked feet into the kitchen, skidding a little on the linoleum floor. That's the last thing I'd need right now – face planting here and acquiring more injuries. I was careful as I slip out.
Nick had a nice townhouse – smart and a little modernized in style. His lounge was a 2 step couch that ran in conjunction around the centre, shaping it with 3 side tables in between. Step up and a little to the left is the door to the kitchen and a little to the right is a door that leads outside onto the patio with a pool. In between is the staircase where he had 3 bedrooms and a bathroom. Next to the kitchen was an open dining room with a hutch that opened into the kitchen and on the left hand side of the dining room was the downstairs bathroom.
"All okay?"
"Yup," I said as I grabbed my beer and flopped onto the couch, taking up the same position as I had before.
"How's the wrist?" He reached over to look and I pulled back.
"It's not going to get any better Nick. It's going to bruise badly and then heal, just like it always does." I picked at the label on the bottle without looking up.
We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, both of us finishing our beers before anything was said.
"How do you manage to keep such an active social life then?"
The question caught me by surprised, not because it was out of nowhere, but because of the subject that pertained to it. I coughed and saw I was out of label to pick off.
"I try, is all I can say really. Trying with repeated rejection does tend to hurt after a while, but hey," I said and then shrugged.
"You rejected? I don't believe you!" He scoffed and finished his beer.
"Well Nicky, you believing it or not doesn't really ascertain to the fact that it's true," I replied coolly and took a swig of my beer.
"I'm sorry Cath, I didn't mean to offend you. I just find it hard to believe that any man would pass up the opportunity to be with you." He fiddled with his beer bottle and reddened a little.
"Excuse me?" I frowned, not quite sure how to react to that. When I was dancing I was made to feel like an object all the time – it came with the job, I knew that, so I never read into it too much. However that was coming from low lives, drunks and losers. People who had thrown their lives away, which was sad, but what was sadder was that they had people at home who loved and cared about them. They were the problem in not wanting that love and care, but would rather blow it on a $50 dollar hooker.
"Geez I'm falling all over here," he said as he turned another shade of red. "Wait, before I make an even bigger mess should we get something stronger? So then I at least have alcohol to blame?" He looked at me and anxiously fiddled with his beer bottle.
"Alcohol sounds good. The way my life is now, alcohol always sounds good." I smiled tiredly, suddenly feeling drained.
"Vodka? Touch of lemon? Ice?"
I wiped my last drop of beer from the corner of my mouth. "Read me like a book!"
He laughed as he disappeared into the kitchen before saying, "Hey I got one thing right!"
"I'm sorry Cath," he said again as he handed me my drink and then sat down, facing me.
"It's okay Nick, I knew you didn't mean it that way. It's just something I'm always generalized with, but what you need to know is that when I was at the club I danced and ONLY danced. That's it."
"What I meant was they can't be of sound mind if they passed up dating you." He fingered my knee and then looked up at me and I could tell he genuinely meant it.
"Yeah, dating and I just don't seem to pair up too well. I just seem to have a radar for the wrong men." I smiled faintly and sipped, feeling the burn of the alcohol. "The last guy I actually walked in on. He was fucking some woman and his closing line was, 'Well what do you expect? I run a nightclub.'" I stuck my chin out as I pressed my lips together.
"This is what I meant earlier when I said you're guarded. I didn't know about the issues with Lindsay or the crappy guys you were dealing with."
"Well it's not something I'd advertise Nick," I said as I swirled my glass. "It just . . . gets lonely sometimes, you know? And sometimes one night is all you need just to feel human again."
"One night stands? As in paying – "
"No of course not!" I snapped, horrified he'd even assume that. "It's just people you come across in the field. I mean I know their names, if that's what you mean."
"Oh. Right, yeah, right, I was out of line," he fumbled and looked down.
"S'okay. I know that wasn't your intention." I smiled and it was my turn to now rest my hand on his knee.
"This still turns my hand into a fist," he said as he took my hand and held it in his, so he could see the bruising. "If he's gonna beat people around then he at least needs to pick on someone his own size."
I yawned and then downed the last of my drink, stretching to place it on the couch divider about a seat away from me and then turned to face Nick. "Eventually I began fighting back, but that only made it worse except during sex; for him it was a turn on." I felt the bile rise in my throat and forced it down, switching my focus to my hand in his – same impression as Eddie, Nick's hand outsized mine. I then gently linked our hands and moved to lie against him, resting my head against his shoulder. He was caught off guard and unsure what to do, but he didn't retaliate.
"I think this might be more comfortable," he said in a low voice.
He then lifted his arm so I could cuddle into him, now resting my head on his chest while our hands were still linked. I was so at ease I felt like I could fall asleep any second. Just resting my eyes for 2 minutes, but the last thing I remembered was Nick kissing the top of my head before I drifted off.
