Chapter 7
Callie
As existential crises go,mine was a quiet one. No one on the outside would have guessed my world had imploded in on itself. I couldn’t even pinpoint the exact moment I questioned the very foundation of my existence, my meaning in life – or honestly,lack of. Was it when Addison rang the doorbell? When she reached for my hand? Was it the first time I held her brother or heard either of themlaugh?
Would I ever know? Would I ever understand? Maybe I should just stop thinking and live in this moment. I was never going to get a moment like thisagain.
I pressed Ben to my shoulder and showed Addison how to scrape her unfinished pancakes into the trash and place the dirty dish into thesink.
Turning my head into the baby’s body, I breathed in deep, the scent of formula and baby filling me with something, some unknown, nameless emotion I only ever dreamed existed. Ben was such a perfect baby: chubby cheeks, long lashes, and tiny stubby little fingers. He laid his head on my shoulder, staring up at me, as if he knew my secrets—the reasons I held him so tight and why my heart trembled with longing—heknew itall.
“Can we build a castle out of Legos?” Addison asked, pulling me back to reality, churning my stomach withnerves.
“What?” I blinked down at her. She was pretty perfect, too: a heart shaped face, big blue eyes, and pouty pink lips. Just like hermother.
Right. I cleared my throat and forced a smile.I am not their mother. I’m just standing in for aday.
“Can we build a Lego castle?” She held out a small brown paper bag, shoving it into my free hand. “A big one I could livein.”
Reluctantly, I set Ben up in his playpen. He had somehow fallen asleep between the three steps I took from the kitchen to the living area. I secured his tiny body in a blanket, swaddling him tightly, and threw all the creepy stuffed animals out of theplaypen.
I sat down on the couch and opened the wrinkled paper bag, peeking inside. There were no more than twenty red and blue Legopieces.
"Addison, I'm sorry, but there's not enough here to build a really big castle. How about a really smallone?"
Tears filled her eyes. “Yes, there is.Pweasetry.”
My heartsank.
Tipping over the bag, I poured the colored blocks into my hand. There were only sixteen of them all together, definitely not a giant castle buildingquantity.
“Look, Addison,” I said softly. “There’s only a few here. I’ll only be able to make a castle fit for afairy.”
At the mention of the word ‘fairy’, her head snapped up. "Fairy? RealFairies?"
“Um.” I scratched at my chin and started building a small fairy-sized-building-shaped blockthing.
She loved it and squealed eagerly when I stuck a toothpick into one of the gaps and made a pink fairy flag forher.
“Look, Daddy!” she yelled, running to the doorway, where unbeknownst to me, Dylan was standing watching our exchange. “Do you think a fairy will come and live inside it?” She held it out to him in her hands like a precioustreasure.
“Maybe,sweetie.”
His voice was raw. He must of have taken a quick shower, because his hair was wet and his clothes changed—same garage type uniform, only cleaner and full of wrinkles. He blinked up at me slowly, his eyes hesitating as they searchedmine.
“You really can stay today? You don’t have anything else todo?”
I stood quickly, wiping my hands down my sides. They clammed up instantly with his question, feeling a little ashamed about my total willingness.Of course he would worry about me stepping in without question. I’m a stranger to him, the stranger who found his childrenyesterday.
"Yes. I have off today, so if you need me. I mean, I know you don't know me, and with everything that happened yesterday, itseems—”
"No. No. I uh." He cleared his throat. "I really need help today. I appreciate everything. You have no idea. Then it's Saturday, and I have the weekend to find a full-time babysitter." He looked away quickly and reached for his coat, sliding his arms in the sleeves. "Just…thank you." His voice trembled. "And if I said anything yesterday about you being in my house. If I called you anything—I just…” His words faded into mumbledsounds.
“It’s okay, really. I know. It’sunderstandable.”
"But it isn't, though, is it? Because I don't understand it atall."
His voice was flat as his hand reached for the front door. I wanted to promise him it would get better, that things didn’t always have to be this way. But who was I to say? I was no one in hislife.
