Page 11 of Wild Forever
I pick my daughter up and pull her close. Her little hands beat against my shoulder. She’s really not happy tonight, and I’m sure it’s my fault. Her damn aunt has me all shook up.
My thoughts swing between imagining her thighs wrapped around me and imaging showing her out of town. It’s enough to give a man whiplash.
“Croco,” Bailey wails, her hand reaching for the trash.
“Here, honey, have the octopus instead.”
I hand her the purple octopus, and she takes it sullenly. But it does the trick, and she’s distracted enough to let me get her diaper and onesie on with no complaints.
I sing the bananas in pajamas song to her as I do up the pop buttons, and she giggles. Her smile warms all the cold places of my heart.
I’m blessed to have Bailey in my life, and I can’t imagine what I’d do if someone took her off me. Maybe that’s how April feels. She said Bailey is her last remaining family. Am I really going to withhold her access to that?
But where was she when Karen had the accident? Why didn’t she claim Bailey then? The authorities tracked me down because Karen had named me on the birth certificate. Thank God for that, or I never would have known about my sweet daughter.
The thought makes me hug her close, and she squirms in my arms.
“You want your bottle?”
I grab the pre-heated bottle and take her through to the bedroom, laying her in the crib gently and handing her the bottle. She snatches it off me and sucks hungrily as I pull the blanket up around her.
Is it unfair not to let April see her? She’s come all this way. The least I even do is hear her out and give her a chance to explain herself.
Since Bailey came into my life, I’ve had my barbershop open only three days a week. Danni and Trish help with the babysitting, and I’ve become close to the wives of my MC brothers. They’ve been the best source of help with minor coughs and tips for sleeping. We’ve got a text chain, and I message them if I have a question.
I’m not the only one in the club to have a baby, and I’m thankful for the support.
But once a week I close the doors to my barbershop and spend the day with just me and Bailey. Tomorrow is that day, and I’d planned to take her out in the baby backpack for a hike and a picnic. It can’t hurt to invite April along.
“You want to see your aunt?”
Bailey gurgles, but the milk is making her sleepy. Even as she grasps the bottle, her eyes are drooping.
Once I’ve made the decision to invite April to spend the day with us, my heart feels lighter. The thought of seeing the curvy girl with the troubled eyes has my heart singing in a way it shouldn’t. It’s bad news to feel like this about the woman who’s trying to take my baby away from me. Let alone the fact that she’s my daughter’s aunt and definitely off limits.
But the heart wants what the heart wants, and there’s no denying the thought of spending a day with April is a pleasing one.
I watch Bailey for a long time until her mouth slackens and her breathing gets regular. Only then do I slip the bottle out of her grasp and sneak out of the room.
6
APRIL
Later that night, I lie in bed thinking about the complicated man in an MC club who’s become an instant father. He has every reason to be wary of me, but he’s been nothing but thoughtful by sending me to the Wild Riders HQ.
Travis, who runs the bar, met me, and his wife Kendra took me under her wing, showing me to a room upstairs and making sure I got something to eat from the restaurant. Travis wouldn’t take any money for the food or the room, and I guess I’ve got Grant to thank for that.
Kendra told me the club members are all army veterans who like to ride. They do charity runs and help out on community projects.
The members I met were welcoming and the women friendly. Maggie works in the kitchen, and she insisted I try a new dessert she’s experimenting with.
I helped clear tables in the restaurant and fold napkins, trying to do something helpful to pay my way. It felt good to be there, like it’s a big family.
One that I’m not a part of.
Loneliness settles into my bones as I stare at the patterns on the ceiling in the strange room.
We lost our parents when we were young, and I don’t think I ever got over the trauma. I learned to acknowledge that with the help of my therapist.
