“Nothing,” I mutter. “Call me when you’re not so busy.”
“No, wait,” she says, probably correctly reading that I was about to hang up. “Talk to me. Why are you calling? You never call.”
“I, uh…I have a bit of a situation.”
“A situation? Do you need to lay low at Madden’s place until camp starts? I think he’s in San Diego for now.”
“I just spent the last month laying low there.” I blow out a breath but don’t let her get on my ass about not calling her while I was in town as long as I was. “I guess I got a woman pregnant around fifteen months ago.”
She gasps.
“She had the kid, and then she got arrested, and she dropped the kid off with me while she does her time.”
“Oh my God, Dex,” she says. “When did all this go down?”
“Yesterday.”
“Whoa. Okay, so you havea kid?”
“Yeah. And I have no idea what the fuck to do with it. Help.”
“I’m an auntie?” she asks softly, and she sounds nearly emotional over it.
“Focus, Ev. I need help.”
“Shit, Dex. Okay, do you know anyone who could help you out?” she asks.
“I actually ran into one of Ivy’s friends who was looking for a job. Long story short, she’s been a fucking lifesaver while I try to figure out what to do.”
“What do you mean,figure out what to do?” she demands, and she’s even more no-nonsense than Ainsley.
“You know…find a more permanent solution,” I say.
“Like a nanny?”
“Like someone who can take him,” I mutter.
“You don’t want him?”
“Jesus. Why not get straight to the heart of the matter?” I realize that’s my sarcasm biting, but I don’t really know any other way. I clear my throat as I try to figure out what Idowant. “Look, I never said that. But I only have a few weeks to figure this out. Keeping him, raising him…I’m not convinced it’s the best option for either of us.”
“Him?”
“Jack. He’s six months old. His mom just surrendered herself to jail for the next two years, but she signed sole custody over to me before she left when she dropped him off yesterday.”
“Oh, Dex,” she says, and she sounds sympathetic. “You can’t just give him away. He’s your baby. I didn’t want this huge crisis at work, but it’s still my issue to take care of. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, you’ve got work to do. I get it.”
“No,” she says firmly. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, just because something lands on your lap that you didn’t necessarily want doesn’t mean you have as many options as you seem to think. It’s your responsibility to take care of your child. What does Dad always say about legacy? What would Mom and Dad think about you just giving someone away who has the Bradley blood running through his veins?”
“I knew I should’ve called Ford instead of you.”
“The reality is the same either way you look at it. I’m happy to help however I can, but I think if you set aside your fear for a second and really take a look inside, you know what’s right and what’s wrong in this situation,” she says. Her words are tough, but her tone is gentle. “I wish we were closer so I could hold my nephew.”
“Come visit me,” I suggest.
I hear some rustling through the baby monitor. He might be up soon, and Ainsley isn’t back yet.
