Poor thing, it must be rough having all the money in the world.
“I’m sure it’ll get easier with time.”
She stares at me. “Doubtful.”
She kisses Starla again and then rushes out.
She does love her daughter; it’s the only time I see a warmth in her eyes, and that’s something, I guess.
I place Starla in her crib and smile down at her. “I’d say for our first day, we did pretty good.”
The little girl babbles at me.
“Would you like a song, Star?”
Star is far prettier than Starla, and it suits her. There is a twinkle in her eyes that makes you simply melt. I don’t know how those two created this perfection, but I do know she’s going to grow up and be something great. Something fantastic. I pick up my guitar I left in her room this afternoon. Her lunch time nap went well after I sang her a song. If that’s what it takes ...
I sit on the rocking chair by the bed, the creaking sound bringing a sense of home to the stark place. I strum my fingers down the strings and then I begin singing. I’ve always been able to sing, I was born gifted with an incredible voice, passed down to me from my mother. As a girl, she would walk around singing all day, encouraging me to join in. Her big voice filled our house with happiness, the kind of joy I hope to one day give to my own family.
I close my eyes, belting out the lyrics to “You Are My Sunshine” and I get so distracted in the depth of the beautiful song that I don’t realize I have company. It isn’t until I open my eyes and see Hugh standing in the doorway, beer in hand, watching me with an intense look in his eyes that makes my tummy do a funny flip. I give him a nervous smile. “I didn’t know you were listening.”
“The whole neighborhood was listening, you were loud.”
“Star likes it loud.”
“Star?”
I nod at the crib where Star’s eyes are closed, her teddy stuffed in beside her, her chubby little fist holding it tight.
Hugh tips his head to the side. “I like Star.”
“Me too.”
I stand and lean over the crib, tucking Star in. Then, I smile at the little girl before turning and walking out, closing the door quietly.
“Don’t think I’ve seen her go to sleep so easily,” Hugh tells me as we move toward the kitchen.
“She likes noise, most babies do. Contrary to popular belief, having a dead silent house isn’t actually the best method. Singing, white noise, those sorts of things often soothe babies.”
“Right,” Hugh murmurs.
I reach the kitchen and make my way toward my quarters, longing for a warm bath. I have been glancing at it all day, and I’m more than ready to sink into the bubbly goodness.
“Have a beer with me.”
I pause, surprised by Hugh’s offer. I turn, facing him, and he’s holding out a beer. It looks cold, the condensation runs down Hugh’s fingers and, oh boy, if that isn’t a good look I don’t know what is. I could have a beer. It would be a great way to unwind.
I lean my guitar against the door and walk over, taking the beer from his hand.
We walk outside to the large patio that connects to my little oasis and take a seat on the expensive furniture, which, if I’m being honest, is so uncomfortable it makes me wonder why anyone would ever pay for it.
Rich people.
Seriously.
“SO, HOW LONG HAVE YOU been part of the club?” I ask Hugh, two beers later as we both sit on the step of the patio, considering it is more comfortable than the damned furniture.
“Since I was eighteen.”
“Wow,” I say, nodding my head. “That’s a long time.”
“I’m not that fuckin’ old,” he grunts.
I laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
He glances at me. “The only family I’ve ever known.”
“You’re not close to your family then?”
He shakes his head. “No, was adopted out as a baby. My adoptive parents died when I was a kid, and I was passed around the system. Nothin’ good came of that.”
I can only imagine.
“Sorry to hear that. The club seems like a great family to have, though.”
“The fuckin’ best.”
I take a sip of my beer. “What about you and Delilah? What happened there?”
He takes a few sips of beer before answering that one. “One-night stand. Didn’t know who she was, she came to the club for a party. We were drunk, I fucked her, didn’t expect to see her again. Wouldn’t even remember her name if you had asked me the next day.”
Yeesh. One-night stands.
“And you didn’t use a condom?”
He glares at me. “Of course I fuckin’ did, the thing broke but she never told me that.”
Right.
Ooops.
“Keep your shirt on, it was only a question.”
“She shows up with a baby, tellin’ me it’s mine and here I am. Not how I saw my life goin’.”
“You could have raised your child apart,” I say, carefully.
“Wouldn’t be a decent man if I didn’t at least try. Not sure why, but, all we fuckin’ do is fight.”
“Maybe you just need some time alone together, to try and reconnect.”
“Problem with that is, there was no connection to begin with. I can’t even fuckin’ remember the night we spent together, let alone anythin’ about her. But if I want to see my daughter, this is how it has to be.”
“She can’t stop you from seeing your daughter,” I say, my voice a little firmer.
“You know who her family is?”
“Everyone knows who her family is.”
“Then you know they’re powerful and rich, they can keep me from my daughter. Might not have wanted a kid, but she’s mine and I’m not the kind of man to fuckin’ bail. Least I can do is try. If it doesn’t work then at least I gave it a go and Delilah might be a bit fuckin’ nicer about things.”
“It’s not going to work if that’s the only reason you’re doing it. Maybe you should try and get to know her. She did make you dinner tonight, she is trying.”
I don’t know if that’s true or not, but Star deserves her parents to have a decent shot at things.
“Yeah, I fucked that up.”
“It takes work on both sides, maybe put a bit more into it and you might find you two have something to connect over.”
He glances at me. “What about you? You got a man?”
God.
My stomach flips.
I don’t have a man, but I do have a problem. An ex that, it’s safe to say, is toxic. And yet I find myself unable to detach myself from him. I’ve tried. I tried with Rhett, and that nearly cost me my friendship with Gabriella. I have tried to date. Tried blocking his number but, somehow, he always gets back in, making me believe that he has changed only to show me time and time again that he is the same narcissistic person he has always been. I swore this time I would cut contact for good and, so far, I’ve managed to keep that promise to myself.
“No,” I answer Hugh. “I want to focus on saving some money and getting out of here.”
Too many bad memories lay dormant in this town for my liking. After I lost my mom, everything just went bad. I never felt like I had a home here after that, I never felt like I fit in. Things just...don’t feel right here.