“I’ll see if he’s home,” Cliff calls.
Alice’s voice drifts in from the hall. “Thanks.”
When Cliff’s eyes meet mine, he’s smiling that smile that I know is going to end in trouble for me. I’m really beginning to resent Cliff. “The hot chick from downstairs is looking for—”
I cut him off because I have no patience for him anymore. “—Alice. She has a name, Cliff.”
“Hey, Toby,” Alice greets when she hears my voice.
I squeeze past Cliff into the hall but can’t close the door because he’s standing in the way. I don’t want to initiate conversation with ears listening, but I don’t have a choice. “Hey, Alice.”
“We’re heading to band practice and I wondered if maybe you wanted to come and watch. We’re going to play that song I’ve been working on for the first time as a band, and I wanted you to be there since you helped with the lyrics.” She looks nervous to ask.
“Don’t you have to watch the kid tonight?” Cliff asks from over my shoulder as if he’s part of this discussion. It’s one of my biggest pet peeves about him—he sticks his nose in everyone’s business.
I reach back to pull the door shut and he doesn’t budge. The look on his face is innocent, I wonder if he knows he’s being a douche. The look on my face is murderous. Johnny sees it and clears his throat before his voice rumbles low with authority. “Cliff, shut the damn door and go get started on your homework.” He almost sounds like a parent—he’s been working on it.
“Watch the kid?” Alice asks as the door finally closes with a benevolent click.
The boundary eases my anxiety slightly. Until I have to answer her question. I’ve avoided telling Alice about Joey. About Chantal. I never expected to be in this situation, to care about someone and what they thought about me. I don’t want to be judged and I know that sounds shitty and makes me a hypocrite because I judge people all the time, but… “Joey,” I answer because I have to say something.
“You babysit?” she asks skeptically.
As if on cue, I hear footsteps making their way up the stairs and I know who it is because I’m late. When Chantal crests the stairway and comes into sight, she’s in her uniform and holding Joey in her arms. He’s fidgeting. The stiff kicks of his legs tell me he’s less than five seconds away from crying. When he’s pissed about something, his arms and legs go rigid and he pumps them like he has to wind himself up to really put on a display. She walks directly to me, ignoring Alice, and the look on her face tells me it’s been a long day and she just needs to get away for a few hours and decompress. Joey’s cry erupts and she holds him at arm’s length, facing me. He’s an offering from a tired mom.
The moment I accept him into my arms and hold him against my chest, I whisper, “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry, little man.”
He quiets immediately at the sound of my voice.
Chantal shakes her head. “Of course he calms down for you,” she mutters, but she sounds grateful. Then she looks me in the eye. “Grandma has been pretty good today and she finally finished dinner. Joey ate too, but he’s been fussy all day. He isn’t running a fever though.” She’s looking at him like she’s not sure if she should leave him or not. The guilt is taking over.
“It’s fine. Go,” I urge.
She’s staring at Joey wistfully when she nods. “I know. The diner phone number is on the fridge if you need to call me. If he gets worse or if a fever starts.” The worrier in her is making her talk fast.
“I know,” I echo.
Her eyes climb from Joey against my chest up to meet mine and they relax slightly. “I know you know.” She says it all the time, but this time she adds, “You’re the best, Toby,” and kisses me on the cheek.
I stiffen when she does because this entire situation is already awkward, and this isn’t us. It’s not what we do.
I’m stunned when her gaze bounces immediately to Alice and she says, “We haven’t been formally introduced, but I’ve seen you around. We both live on the second floor, we’re neighbors. I’m Chantal.”
Alice extends her hand in the direction of Chantal’s voice and they shake. “I’m Alice. It’s nice to meet you. How old is your son?”
“Our son is seven months.” I didn’t miss theourthat began that sentence. Why is she doing this? She never acts like this.
Alice nods, but she looks stunned. She caught theourtoo.
Chantal smiles innocently and it looks all wrong on her. “Well, I’d better get going or I’ll be late. I’ll be home around midnight, Toby.”
I nod and the, “I know,” that accompanies it sounds sour. Chantal heard it and I don’t miss the darkening of her cheeks before she turns and walks away.
Alice waits until she hears Chantal descend every flight of stairs and walk out the front door before she whispers, “You have a baby, Toby?”
I nod, embarrassment flooding in. “Yeah,” I whisper back. This is where I lose her. People, even nice people, are watching when we make what they perceive to be mistakes. They don’t like mistakes.
“That’s a pretty big deal. Were you ever going to tell me about him?” She sounds a little annoyed, shocked—hurt? I can’t tell which. When I don’t answer, she asks a follow-up, “Are you two together? You and Chantal?”
