6. Just like that.
Chapter Forty Four
Isaac
It’s been almost four months since Ronnie left to take a job in Puerto Rico, and as much as her decision broke my heart, I did the only thing I could do. I loved her enough to let her go, while I focused on myself and my future. The garage smells like sawdust and the brown stain we used to paint the crib, which I now have flipped on its side after drying out for almost a week. The wrench bites into my palm as I tighten the last bolt. It wasn’t as if it truly needed it. I checked it twice already. It’s as tight as it can be, but you can never be too sure. Plus, I don’t like when my hands stop moving. Working on something helps quiet my thoughts.
The more I work, the less time I have to be inside my mind. From the corner of the room, the radio hums low; “De Mi,” by Camila, plays softly. The more time that passes by, I find myself listening to music that reminds me of my mother. Of the version of me that is lovesick and watched way too many novellas with the women in my life. This band brings me back to the simpler times, where I envisioned my love story with Ronnie ending like they would on the screen. The one where the main character always gets the girl after going through every trauma possible. No matter the obstacle, they came out on top. I guess a part of me still remains hopeful, even though so much time has passed and no word from her. A small crack of sunlight filters through the cracked garage door, and when you look into it, I swear you can still see dust floating in it like it’s suspended in time.
With a sigh, I take a step back, noticing that it’s still not perfect. The crib still leans slightly to the left, so I adjust it again. Trying to straighten it, frustration quickly surfaces.
“That thing looks like it will survive a hurricane. I’m sure it will survive holding a baby.” Nixie’s voice pulls my attention away from my task. Glancing over my shoulder, I spot her standing at the threshold of the door.
“Nix,” I voice the obvious, straightening up to my full height. Before turning to face my little sister, who now saunters towards the workbench, before leaning against it and crossing her arms. She’s taller than she used to be. Fuck, it’s like everything that transpired with Ronnie and I bled into her too. My little booger is no longer a kid, not quite grown either… She’s in that stage where they see everything but don’t know what to do with it.
“You know it’s a crib, right?” I ask pretentiously, pointing at the crib. “Not a bunker.”
She snorts and gives me a precious eyeroll that reminds me so much of her older sister. “I’m not dumb, Iz, but you’re here building the thing as if it owes you money or something.”
I shrug, wiping the dust on my hands against my jeans. “I’d rather call it safety. Can’t fault me for trying to make sure it’s sturdy.”
Nixie pushes away from the bench, hesitant at first as she circles it. “So… this is really happening…”
“Yeah.”
My little sister comes to a stop right around the headboard, running a finger along the soft wood. She looks sad, even though she tries her hardest not to show it. Instead, she swallows hard before whispering, “It’s kinda small.”
“It’s supposed to be.”
She nods, still lost inside her mind. “Guess babies don’t need much at first.”
“Not necessarily,” I respond, unsure of what to say. I still don’t know what babies need, or if I will be any good at the job. All I can do is try, be there just likeI’ve been trying. There’s a long pause between us. My attention is on her as she rocks softly on her heels. “Do you like working with Dad?”
Her question catches me off guard, honestly, the entire conversation does, but it seems like she wants to talk. Or at least understand. The least I can do is provide a listening ear and hopefully some answers. “I guess, for now.”
“What about when it’s born?” She emphasized the word ‘it’ and it strikes a cord inside me. Regardless of how the baby came to be, I accepted the role of his father. Even if everyone around me reassured me that it was okay to walk away. I don’t have it in me to do that. It dawns on me, maybe it’s time I clarify things for her. We see her as a kid and exclude her from so many things. “When the baby is born, I’ll still work with Dad. I’ll still be me. Nothing changes but the fact that I’ll have a son.”
“A son…” She blinks, studying my face like she’s looking for the cracks. If she can see them, she keeps that to herself. “Things change, though.”
“Some things,” I say carefully. “Not everything.”
My words seem to ease something within her, or at least I hope, because she relaxes. “Do you miss her?’
I inhale a deep breath, a small smile forming at my lip and nod. “Very much.”
“I miss her too.”
Her phone buzzes in her hand, breaking the moment. I watch as she checks it, and whatever she sees makes her smile falter before she pockets the device. “Will you be around later? We can watch a movie?”
“Gotta go talk to Sledge, then maybe I can come back. We can watch Twilight or whatever you wanna watch.”
Her brows pinch together, as if questioning my motives. Nixie is the definition of curiosity and always needing to know everything. “Isn’t he dating Alexa now?”
“Yes, how do you know?”
“I heard Mom talking to…” She stops herself before mentioning the fact that everyone but me talks to Ronnie. I clasp her shoulder softly. “It’s okay, kiddo, I’m happy you guys talk to her.”
She hesitates, or maybe she’s just unsure of what to say… Instead, my little sister steps forward and hugs me. Not soft. Not dramatic. Just tight and fast, whispering. “You’re doing well, be proud.” My heart grows warm at her words, and my arms wrap tightly around her. Before I can respond, she pulls away. “Be happy, Iz.”
