I’m so focused on her expression, I don’t notice she’s still touching me until she yanks her hand away, clenching it into a fist before reaching for her daughter.
She scoops Birdie up, swinging her into the air, both their faces lighting up as she spins them around. I find myself smiling along with them. Not just because their happiness is contagious, but also because I’m feeling a little smug.
My mother is going to eat this shit up. She’s going to be thrilled to have another grandbaby to spoil and dote on. The kid will probably have so much shit Ruth’ll have to get a bigger place to accommodate all of?—
Well, fuck. In all our fun at the park, I almost forgot about the state of Ruth’s apartment. Now, thinking about how much my mother is going to spoil Birdie, my brain is circling back to the nearly empty space and the mattress on the floor. I thought the outside of the building was bad, but seeing how little Ruth and her daughter have hit me harder than any leaking roof or crumbling foundation ever could.
I stand from the slide, wiping my still tingling hand against the leg of my jeans as I follow Ruth to the picnic table where she left their gear. Straddling the bench, she situates Birdie next to her, keeping a hand on the little girl's back as she digs into thefront zippered compartment of the bag. Pulling out a pouch of applesauce, she twists off the cap and hands it to her daughter.
While Birdie eats her snack, I take the spot on her other side, offering a barrier in case she loses her balance and starts to tip. At first, I was thrilled to see how mobile a kid her age is. The twins will be visiting my house sooner than I thought, and I’ll be the favorite uncle sooner than anyone else will expect.
But my focus on beating my brothers in the favorite uncle race has taken second priority for a minute.
First, I want to know why Ruth and Birdie are living the way they are, and what I need to do to fix it. Not only because my mother would be appalled I’d let my girlfriend and her daughter live like that, but also because Ruth is helping me and I want to help her back. Unfortunately, we don’t know each other well enough for me to get a good read on how to make that happen, so I decide to start asking what I hope are benign questions.
“Did you just move into your place?”
Ruth’s dark brows pinch together as she shakes her head. “No. Why?”
“I just noticed it was pretty empty. Thought maybe your furniture hadn’t been delivered yet.” I hope that’s the case, anyway.
Rubbing her lips together, I watch as she decides how much to tell me. It’s obvious she’s holding a lot back—I don’t blame her, I am too—but I need to know at least a little bit about her if we’re going to pull this off.
And if I’m going to make sure these two are comfortable and happy while we do it.
“I’m actually in the process of moving.” She won’t look at me as she goes back to digging through the bag, this time pulling out a cup filled with water.
That’s good news. It’s not that she doesn’t have furniture,it’s probably just been packed up into one of those storage cubes you can have delivered to your new place. “Where to?”
Ruth’s lower lip pinches between her teeth as she twists the lid of Birdie’s cup, revealing a pop up drinking spout. “Maryland.”
“Maryland?” It turns out the move isn’t good news at all. “When?”
Now I know why Ruth was worried about my timetable. She’s got one of her own. And it’s limited as hell.
She takes a breath so deep it lifts her shoulders before admitting, “I’m supposed to start my new job in three weeks.”
That doesn’t give me much to work with. Three weeks won’t offer me much time to convince my mother I’m desperately in love. If anything, it could actually make my situation worse. Give my mom hope I’ve changed my ways and encourage her to strike while the iron’s hot after Ruth leaves.
“So you need money for the move.” It’s not a difficult deduction to make.
Ruth’s eyes drop to her daughter. “I’m technically breaking my lease, so they aren’t going to give me my deposit back. And it is surprisingly expensive to move across the country, even without the expense of hiring movers.”
So what I saw is what she’s got. Don’t like that. Not one bit.
I have a lot more questions for Ruth, but I feel like I've probably pushed my luck about as far as it’ll go today. So I turn my attention to Birdie, giving the little girl a smile. "Are you ready to go back home, Little Bird?"
She shakes her head, curls bouncing around her face. "No."
"You can't ask her that question. She would live here if I let her." Ruth stands, packing up the items she pulled out of the bag. "This kid has energy levels like I've never seen before."
I chuckle. "That's because you didn't see me and my brothers growing up."
Remembering my own childhood was a huge factor in deciding to build a play area in my basement. Outdoor playgrounds like this are great in the warm weather, but the minute it's cold or rainy, kids are stuck in the house. And I know firsthand, when kids are stuck in the house, shit gets broken.
And it's usually expensive shit.
Ruth shakes her head, huffing out a laugh. "I can only imagine the torture you guys put your mother through."
