Page 7 of Jaime
Realistically, I knew he probably wasn’t going to actually message me. I was sure that he was too busy, but the gesture meant a lot.
Arriving at the bookstore, with my heart in my stomach, I’d nearly turned around at the door. Inside, it was hard to ignore how out of place I was. I didn’t look like the other parents. Sure, some of them looked tired or worn, the way that I felt, but most of them just looked so…put together.It was another blow. More proof that I shouldn’t be in this position. That Evie deserved better.
I pressed that thought down, burying it as best I could, but I could still feel it festering just under the surface. Same way it always did.
Mr. McIntosh, being kind and observant and good with kids, had immediately noticed. He’d pointed it out—albeit in a kind way—that I didn’t even have a carrier. He’d known that I was lacking the basic things that she needed.
Now, as distance grew between me and the bookstore and Ethan, as the excitement at meeting him began to wear off, humiliation swept in to take its place.
I was so fucking embarrassed. I’dknownnot to go today...
Groaning, I dropped my head back, letting it hit the rattling window. But at the same time, he had been so nice...
My flip-flopping emotions got me through the bus trip, distracting me enough that I ended up missing my stop. Luckily, I only had to walk an extra five minutes to get home.
The upstairs neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Woo, were on the front porch. As the homeowners of the small house I lived in, in Oakdale, they’d been delighted with me at first. I’d paid a year upfront and was generally quiet. Then I’d moved Evie in and having to explain the situation to them had been one of the most awkward conversations that I’d had.
Every time she cried since I’d brought her home a month ago, I cringed.
I waved, faking a friendly smile as I passed toward the back door, moving fast enough that I hoped they didn’t have a chance to stop me.
No luck, though.
“Jaime! How are you?”
I slowed, turning back to see them.
Mrs. Woo had moved to the edge of the porch and was watching me with the worried face that now seemed to be a permanent fixture whenever she saw me.
“How is everything?” she asked. “Is the baby okay?”
I forced my polite smile to remain intact.
“She’s still alive, if that’s what you mean?”
“Okay,” she said slowly, frown still in place.
I couldn’t read this damn woman. All I knew for sure was that the way she and her husband looked at me always made me feel judged and like I wasn’t good enough.
“We hear her crying all the time,” Mr. Woo piped in.
I felt myself shrink. Evie must have felt my heart drop, pressed against it as she was, because she chose that moment to wiggle and let out a distressed cry.
“Aw,” Mrs. Woo said, “can I see her?”
I shook my head, already backing away.
“It’s a bit chilly. I need to get her inside.”
I hurried to my entrance at the back, quickly unlocking the door and slamming it behind me like I was being chased.
My heart was racing and the jostling had made Evie start to thrash. Her cries rang loud and clear, and in the silence of the basement apartment we lived in, it sounded even louder.
I carefully withdrew her from the warmth of my jacket and hurried to the bedroom, placing her carefully on her back in the center of the bed where I could watch her while I pulled off my jacket.
“You hungry, sweetheart?” I asked and bent over her, waiting for her to notice me. She didn’t though. She was distracted by the current meltdown, her eyes squeezed shut as she kicked aimlessly.
I stroked back the blond fuzz on top of her head, wondering if I could leave her there for a moment while I warmed her bottle.
