“Leave,” my mother says, and I take an involuntary step forward, my mind clouded by the anger piling up inside me.
“Now,” my father says, stepping in front of me.
I stare down at him to make sure he knows I’m no longer that little boy who was afraid of him and his opinion. Then Arianna coos again and I understand. There, in front of my past, I understand that they’re nothing and she’s everything. She’s the only thing that matters.
How could I have considered, even for a second, letting them raise Arianna?
I turn around and walk away, knowing I’ll never step foot in this house ever again.
When I’m far from them, breathing becomes easier. Arianna is sleeping, unaware of the battle that just happened outside the house. I’m surprised they let go of her so easily. I thought they would have fought this just to make me suffer more.
I place Arianna in the rear-facing seat, and then take my place in the driving seat. Without a glance back at the house, I drive away, hoping to be a better parent than they ever were. I repeatedly peek in the rearview mirror to get glimpses of Arianna, and I fight the tears, a mix of joy and agony, for what I’ve gained and what my sister lost.
I drive like an old lady, going under the expected speed limit, but I don’t care because I have a precious cargo inside the car. When we reach home, Arianna is still sleeping, and she continues to do so while I take her out of the seat. It takes me ages to pick her up because I’m afraid of hurting her, and because I’m still figuring out what to do.
I move slowly once she’s in my arms because I don’t want to wake her up. I can’t look away from her tiny face, so the climb to the door is a measured one. When I reach the door it opens on its own, and then Jay sticks his head out. Worry morphs into a beautiful smile that takes over his face, and removes the spikes skewered inside me since I reached my parents’ house.
“Here she is,” Jay says, stepping forward to look at the baby in my arms. “She’s beautiful,” he says when Arianna opens her eyes and smiles at him.
This baby knows who she should trust.
“Yeah, she is.” The pride in my voice is unmissable, and I can’t believe how protective of her I’ve become by just holding her in my arms.
Now that I’m at home, I don’t know what to do. Keeping her in my arms is the easy part. What comes first, though, putting her in bed or giving her food? Do babies have a schedule?
Anger at my parents takes over me again, and my body goes rigid with the need to shake them. But as soon as Arianna becomes fussy, I take a few breaths, in and out, to calm myself. The last thing I want is to upset her because of them.
“Is her stuff still in the car?”
“There’s no stuff.” I close my eyes when my voice comes out harsh and raspy, and Jay takes a step back. Arianna fusses again and I take another deep breath before I continue. “They didn’t give me anything.”
“Okay,” he says, and when he doesn’t say anything else I look at him. His face tells me he understands perfectly what that means.
I walk to the bedroom and place her on top of my bed, and then slowly unwrap her from what my mother put around her. When the blankets are off, everything becomes red, and rage nearly burns away my reason. I close my eyes and resume the mantra… but it takes a whole damn minute to be able to open my eyes and touch Arianna again, because I’m afraid of causing her pain in my need to regain control. Arianna is wearing her nappy, a vest, and nothing on her feet.
“What the f… heck?” Jay says, appearing next to me. He surprises me, as I’m so taken by Arianna I didn’t notice he’d followed me in here.
“Yeah.” It’s the only thing I allow myself to say. Because if I open my mouth again, there’ll be a long list of swear words coming out of it, and they’re not suitable for the innocent ears of a child.
I wish I could pretend to know what I’m doing, but I’m going in blind. A couple of hours here and there in the last five months is not enough to acquire the skills needed to take care of a baby.
“Did they give you her schedule?”
“Nope.” Another clipped answer because I’m still so close to knocking down the place from the fury pulsating through me.
“F…” He bites his lips, and that shouldn’t make me want to reach out and caress them until they’re saved from being tortured.
I should be thinking about Arianna. What the fuck should I do?
Jay takes the two sides of the blanket and covers the baby again.
Why didn’t I think of that? Because you’re going in blind.
I glance at Jay, now caressing Arianna through the blanket, as if trying to sooth her or lull her back to sleep. He seems to know more than I do, what needs to be done. I hate asking for help, I never do. This time, though, it’s not for me it’s for Arianna, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
“What should I do?”
Jay’s eyes are on me. Their weight is unmissable. It’s like they’re searching inside me to find something I’m not sure I have. I don’t turn his way, because I don’t want to see the pity I’m sure is in his eyes. I’m not only out of my comfort zone, I’m in the middle of the ocean with nothing to hold on to.
