Page 2 of The Yips

I caught myself reflexively reaching for my good luck medallion several times during my run. It had been a gift from my grandfather when I was twelve years old; he’d given it to me after a horrendous Little League game. My father had screamed at me after my final pitch of the game had resulted in a walk-off home run. When Gramps gave me the horseshoe charm on the gold chain, it was meant to provide something to focus on other than my father’s screaming on the sidelines. Over the years, it had become part of my pre-game ritual, keeping me grounded under pressure.

It had to be in the locker room. I wouldn’t allow myself to panic until I’d checked there. Otherwise, with the amount that I had to drink last night, I’d never be able to retrace my steps to find it.

After finishing my run, I chugged a large water bottle and chased down 800 mg of ibuprofen. I couldn’t afford to drink like this during the season and build stronger mental walls to block out my father’s invasion. I had several text notifications that I could only just catch up on now. I left the rest of my father’s unread and deleted the one from the woman I had met in Chicago. I had been clear that I was not looking for a relationship but left her my number because sometimes shit happens when you’re fucking someone. I'd want to know if I had kids roaming around out there, even though I always did everything possible to prevent an unwanted pregnancy.

Gramps: Good game last night.

Me: Thanks. I felt good.

Gramps: You probably heard from your dad.

Me: Uh huh. Don’t you know it.

Gramps: Block him out, kid, don’t let him fuck with your head.

Me: Trying. Are you still coming to my next start?

Gramps: Sure, am. Dinner afterward?

Me: We’re on.

CHAPTER 3

Kelsey

The three and a half months since I had given birth to Crew, had been the most humbling of my life. I had expected sleepless nights, but I had never expected the exhaustion and the constant fear that I would fail. Would that feeling ever go away? Would I always feel as if I needed to check on him while he slept? My father had been an enormous help, but since my mom also worked nights as a nurse, there wasn’t much she could do.

I had spent the morning trying to confirm with Uber that my $500 tip was correct. They claimed that it was and that it would be included in my payout this coming Friday. While it wasn’t a life-changing amount, it allowed me to put some money in my savings account. That account balance was $1.82, insufficient security for a single mother. Maybe that last ride was worth it, after all.

Crew smiled at me as he nursed, his big blue eyes wide. He was a good baby. He slept through most nights, was never colicky, and was generally happy. His disposition made me think I might be an okay mom. He was my date night, while all my friends spent their time hooking up atthe bars. Some nights were lonely, but I loved these moments, just the two of us.

I sent my father my schedule for the following week, and he agreed to stay overnight for two nights. That would allow me to pick up two closing shifts at the bar and get up early for Logan airport runs. If I kept that schedule up through the summer, I could restart classes next fall. I had three semesters left before finishing my degree, including my clinicals, and then I could finally begin my nursing career.

My parents had both asked me to move back in with them, and it was tempting every time I wrote the rent check, but it was important to me to take care of my son. My income would qualify for daycare assistance once I had a full-time position during the day, but as a new nurse, I might not have the option to work a day shift. Working nights, weekends, and early mornings limited my choices, but bartending provided much more income for my budget, and right now, I needed to make as much money as possible.

I picked up a FaceTime call from my mother; she liked to call in the morning when she got home from work to check in on Crew. He popped off my breast and smiled when he heard her voice.

“He’s so alert. Such a smart baby.” She cooed at him through the phone screen.

Despite the bad choices that brought him into existence, I liked to think that I was raising a genius. “He’s getting strong during tummy time.”

“I noticed that in the video you sent me. Have you thought about starting him on cereal yet?” she asked. I sighed heavily before answering her. She meant well, but I was tired of hearing about how we all had cereal in our bottles after six weeks.

“Mom, we aren’t talking about this again. His pediatriciansaid he had no reason to start on solids; it’s old and outdated guidance.”

“You and your sisters were fine.”

“You did your best with the information available at the time. Give me some space to do the same,” I said, reminding myself for the third time of the importance of patience with her.

“Is Kylie still coming home this weekend?” I asked, attempting to change the subject. My middle sister graduated college at the beginning of the month and planned to live at home this summer while she found her own apartment. She had offered to help watch Crew occasionally, but it would be nice to have her home. I had missed my older sister desperately. We had grown up close, but with Kylie on the West Coast at the University of Washington, we hadn’t seen each other often. She’d only ever met her nephew on FaceTime.

“Her flight arrives first thing Saturday morning. She’s booked a red-eye flight back.” I mentally ran through my planned work schedule for the next few days.

“I can plan to pick her up between runs. Send me the flight details when you can.” Mom’s forwarded e-mail with Kylie’s flight information came through immediately.

We said goodbye and ended the call. I finished nursing Crew, and he dosed off, ready for his mid-morning nap. I took advantage of the time he slept and cleaned my apartment. I had to wait for him to wake up before I could put a load of laundry in. The machines were in the basement, and I couldn’t leave him alone in the apartment to run or switch loads.

I loved being home with him, but I was lonely.

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