Chapter 2: Ricky.
It felt as though all the air had been knocked out of Ricky. My knees felt wobbly as he looked at the woman he once loved. She cleared her throat, looking at him expectantly. She didn't request again though, fiddling with the hem of her jacket as she waited for his answer. After a few seconds, he regained control of his body and moved out of the way.
"I don't have much time though, I need to open the butcher shop."
"Isn't that Bunny's job?" she asked him, with a look of confusion on her face.
"That would be hard, considering she took her retirement at the beginning of this school year," he paused, then continued: "I replaced her." he didn't know why he told her he had replaced Bunny as the manager of the butcher shop, either to make her realize how well he was doing without her, or if he was just granting her some side information.
"Oh, congratulations." Amy said, looking around the apartment. "Where's John?"
"He's in his room getting ready for school, it's his last day before the holiday starts."
"Oh yeah, makes sense." she said.
'Well, this is awkward' Ricky thought as he moved into the kitchen, grabbing a bowl for John's cereal.
"Why are you here, Amy?" he finally said, as she wasn't speaking either and the question had been burning on the tip of his tongue since he had seen her standing in his door way.
"Well, I've finished with college, so I'm here to take John home with me."
Ricky Underwood poured the entire content of the milk bottle over the bowl instead of in it, as she dropped the bomb on him. At first, he laughed, thinking she was joking, but the way she was still fiddling with her jacket, then straightening her back as he laughed at her, made him realize she was dead serious.
"What?! He doesn't even know who you are. You've never called or skyped or tried contacting him in the last couple of years and now you think you can just take him back?"
"Well, technically I still have custody, you know, so it's really not a request."
He stared at his former fiancé, realizing she was right. They had never done the legal steps that stated he was the full and only care-taker of John.
"Shit." he sweared under his breath as he realized this.
He wanted to yell at her, call her names, throw her out of his apartment, but wasn't sure in what order yet, but at that moment, John emerged from his bedroom, fully dressed.
"Hey Dad, who's that?" he asked while walking into the kitchen and sitting on his chair to start eating his breakfast.
Ricky quickly replied before Amy could speak. "This is Amy, a friend from highschool. She's just dropping by to say hello."
John nodded, accepting the answer. However, Amy was not so pleased with this answer and raised an eyebrow at Ricky before opening her mouth.
"Well actually John, that's not completely true, I'm your mother."
John's spoon stayed somewhere mid-air as he looked up, confused now. He looked at his father, not understanding what was going on.
"My Mommie?" he said, almost like a toddler who was still getting used to the word.
Ricky closed his eyes and wrinkled his eyebrows in defeat. This was not how he wanted to tell John, but Amy wasn't respecting him at all and he didn't want to fight her in the presence of their son.
"Amy, do you think I can have a minute of your time?" he strained to calm himself. He had never lost his temper in the presence of his son, but the way Amy was throwing herself back into their lives, not thinking about John's feelings, was not okay with him.
"Oh okay."
She smiled at her son while following Ricky into the bedroom, where they would have some privacy. The boy smiled back at the woman with the chestnut hair, wondering if she really was his mommie. All he could vaguely remember were some scents of her, but he couldn't remember what she looked like. Daddy had refused to show him pictures of his Mom and hadn't wanted to talk about what happened to her, so this was very confusing, but he tried to wrap his head around it.
"Eat your cereals, John, the bus will be here soon." Ricky said, before closing the door to the bedroom so John wouldn't here the conversation unless it got too loud.
He turned at Amy, his eyes filled with rage, hands itching.
"What do you think you're doing?" he snarled, trying not to lose his temper.
"Well Ricky, I am his Mom, and he deserves to know that, to know I'm here to take care of him, to love him."
"So where were you the past four years when he needed you as well? You weren't ready to love him then or what?"
Amy looked hurt, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Look, I know that my decisions didn't make much sense, but they were right at the time."
"They were the right ones for you, but how about me, how about John?" Ricky remembered the little boy in the room next to them and lowered his voice, he didn't want him to know they were fighting.