She shakes her head, her eyes dewy with tears. “Not really. I don’t talk to my oldest sister much, so it’s very awkward and hard, but she just said I needed to be there.”
I squeeze her one last time. “Okay, keep me in the loop. If anything, I’ll take Celeste to my place tonight, as long as Kirby is cool with it.”
She nods as she pulls out of my arms. “Hopefully, you won’t need to, but thank you for the offer. I’ll call you.” I watch as Jean gathers her things. “You know I don’t do this, right?”
“Jean, you’re fine. I promise.”
“It’s just my dad and all—”
“Honey, I completely understand, and Kirby won’t be upset. I promise.”
She chews on her lip for a second then meets my gaze. “Thank you again.”
“Of course.”
After explaining to me when Celeste ate last and that she may need a nap soon, Jean also gives me the keys to Kirby’s truck with the car seat in it. Just in case, she says. Jean is a mess, shaking with not only fear for her dad but for her job. I basically have to push her out the door with reassurance that this is not a problem. When she leaves, I lock the door behind her just as Celeste leans her head on my chest. I rub her back, thankful I’m able to be here with her and to help Jean out.
I know Jean, I know the company she works for, and they wouldn’t allow her to leave like this unless it was an emergency. I’m worried that the situation with her dad could be worse than she thinks, so I’m glad she is able to go. I know Kirby won’t be upset. How could he? She is so good to him, and this is an emergency.
I carry Celeste and my work bag to the living room, before sitting her down on her bottom. She bounces happily as I set up the baby gates so she can’t get far. She isn’t very fast crawling but still dangerous in a non-blocked-off area. I kick off my shoes before stepping into the barricade with her, opening my computer to work. Of course, my laptop is the holy grail for this baby, so for the next hour, I try to work and keep her away from my computer. I don’t get much done, but her laughter makes it okay. I check my phone to see if I have anything from Jean, though it hasn’t sounded with notifications at all. I haven’t heard from her or Kirby. Makes me worry more for Jean and, of course, makes me wonder what Kirby is doing. He has a game tonight, but he isn’t usually in meetings all day. I really want to talk to him. Not just about Jean, but also about my conversation with Feliciana. I hope he won’t mind that I’m having lunch with her tomorrow.
I highly doubt he will when I tell him what I admitted. Or…maybe I won’t tell him that.
Though, it would make him extremely happy.
If I’m honest, it did tickle me pink.
“Almost as much as you tickle me, you little sugar bear!” I gush, tickling Celeste. She giggles and snorts happily before I glance at the time and notice it’s time for her to eat dinner. “Wanna eat, sweet girl?”
She holds up her arms, opening and closing her palms. I interpret that as her asking to be picked up, so I do as she requests. Celeste sits perfectly on my hip as I carry her to the kitchen. Before I can reach it, though, my phone starts singing in my back pocket. It’s not my normal tone or even my tone for Kirby. It’s my mother. I groan as I answer since I’m sure she’s already called the office and knows I’m not there.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Why aren’t you at work?”
“I had to help a friend,” I say, leaving it very vague. I may admit things to my boss, but my mother is a whole other beast I am not ready to fight.
“Okay. Well, I need help.”
I go still. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry, that sounded worse than I intended,” she says. Though, I highly doubt it. I get my dramatics from my mother. “Your father is on a golfing trip, and I got a flat tire. I got AAA to take me to the tire shop, but they can’t replace my tire until tomorrow when the tire comes in. Can you come pick me up?”
I shouldn’t hesitate, but stupidly I do.
“Child, why are you pausing! It’s ‘Yes, Mother. I’m coming right now.’ I gave you life!”
I make a face. “Actually, it was Dad that gave me life, and you—”
“Jaylin, come get me. I’ll send you the address.”
She hangs up, and I drop my phone to my thigh. Celeste babbles something, and I nod. “I agree. This is becoming one hell of a pickle.”
I kiss her head and then grab Kirby’s keys to go get my mother.
In his truck, with his daughter.
This should be completely uneventful
“What am I going to say?”
Aviva has been laughing since I called her to update her on my current situation. “Girl, time to come clean.”
“Time to come clean? Aviva, coming clean is telling my mother I am dating a man who has a child. Not showing up with said child without her knowing anything.”
She’s still laughing. I want to wring her neck! “I mean, you did tell her you were dating, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so you didn’t tell her the whole story, but it’s okay. Celeste is a doll. She’ll be completely taken with her.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Oh, I am. But she’ll lose her shit on you first.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“Keeping it real, sis.”
“Jesus,” I say, shaking my head. “I still haven’t heard from Jean or even Kirby—”
“Nico told me they had a lot of meetings today. Tonight is a big game before they come home for two games. They are ironing out some things, according to my baby daddy.”
“Oh, okay. Jean is so scared she’s in trouble.”
“It’s her dad. Kirby won’t mind, and Celeste is in good hands.”
“That’s what I said, but thanks. I feel all adult and shit.”
She scoffs. “You’ve always been really good with kids. I have no doubts Celeste is having a blast.”
“She is,” I say, looking in the rearview mirror that reflects a mirror facing her that shows her sleeping sweetly. Then again, I think everything she does is sweet and cute. I might be bewitched by this little angel. “She helped me work.”
She laughs. “I bet she did. You got nothing done?”
“Not even a full sentence typed,” I laugh with her as I pull into the tire shop. “Okay. I’m about to pick up the mother lady. I’ll report later.”
“May God be with you.”
“Thanks, I need Him,” I say, hanging up as my mom walks toward the truck with a look on her face. A very disgruntled and angry look.
She opens the door, throwing her purse on the floorboard as she asks, “Whose truck is this?”
“A friend.”
“A friend?” she asks incredulously as she heaves herself up in Kirby’s high-set truck. “Looks like a man’s truck.”
“Yes, my manfriend’s truck.”
She side-eyes me, and her tone is very deep and suspicious when she mutters, “Mmm-hmm.” I grin as she shuts the door, but she is in anything but a good mood. “I told your father to take my car in for a tire change a while back. He didn’t listen. Just like you, no one listens to me.”