When Life Gives You Lemons (1.2)

Chapter 2: Incoming, part 2

 

They’ve told me to start keeping a journal. Said it will help me adjust. Why not? They also told Lonnie to keep one as well.

It’s not ideal. And it’s certainly not easy. My daughter’s distraught about not being able to see her mother again. The funeral was three days ago. Atty’s been great, helping me out.

I don’t know how I’m going to make this work. Right now my daughter is sleeping on the couch. There’s only one bedroom in this apartment. I’m going to have to find a bigger place but I don’t know where I’m going to get the money.

 

June 25

I’ve decided to start putting dates. I don’t know why. Therapist suggested it.

I quit my online classes. Can’t waste the money and my free time needs to be spent seeing to my daughter’s needs.

Atty hasn’t been over in two days. Not that I’m surprised.

I told her to stay away for a while, so I could adjust.

I just didn’t think she’d listen.

 

June 30

My kid is crazy.

Atty has taught her that pizza is breakfast. God help me, that’s not healthy. Dammit, Atty.

 

July 3

Tomorrow’s the 4th of July. Atty and I had plans, before Lonnie showed up. I had to cancel. She left to do those plans on her own. Don’t know when she’ll be back.

Lonnie’s upset. She’s grown kind of close to her in the short time she’s been here.

 

July 7

Atty’s not back yet. Lonnie’s doing better. She’s not crying as much about her mother. I’m going to enroll her in school soon. Haven’t told her yet though.

 

Sighing, I scrubbed a hand over my face and dropped the pen with which I was writing. I was so tired I could barely see straight, but I couldn’t sleep yet. I needed to run to the Laundromat and wash the dirty clothes, because my daughter only had so many and they needed to be clean.

I also needed to look at apartments and pray they weren’t too expensive.

“Daddy?”

I looked up at the somewhat shy voice and hoped my smile didn’t appear as forced as it felt. I was happy to see her, I was just tired and she looked like she was going to cry again. I hated it when she cried.

“Yeah, Lonnie?” I put aside my reading glasses and shoved my journal pages away, focusing on her.

“I’m scared,” she said quietly.

“Of what?”

“Monsters.”

“Monsters?” I echoed, frowning. “There are no monsters here, I assure you.”

She shook her head. “I’m scared. You hafta do somethin’ ‘bout it,” she said.

I blinked at her. “Oh?”

“Mommy did.”

And then her lower lip was trembling, and those tears spilled down those cheeks.

Dammit.

I sighed and picked her up, putting her on my knee. She buried her face in my chest and I awkwardly patted her on the back.

I had no idea what to do with kids. Dammit, I wasn’t cut out for this!

She deserved so much better.

 

 

“Honey, I’m home!”

I looked up from the couch and glared as Atty stepped through the door, wide grin in place, eyes aglow with mirth as they landed on me. “Quiet! She’s sleeping,” I snapped, and she had the sense to look abashed before she shrugged.

“Did ya miss me?”

“You were only gone a week.”

“So that’s a no?” Her lips twisted into a pout.

I scowled and turned back to the TV. “Shut up and sit down.”

She sat and we watched TV for ten minutes until Lonnie entered the living room, rubbing at tired brown eyes. Her eyes lit up when she took notice of Atty, and Atty eagerly accepted her hug.

“Hey, kiddo!” she said happily.

Lonnie grinned at her.

Why the hell was it so easy for her? She was my daughter, dammit!

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I muttered to her, and it must have sounded more harsh than I intended, because she gave me an odd look, bid Lonnie goodnight, and left.

 

 

July 10

Atty’s mad at me. Lonnie misses her. She’s my daughter but she misses her. What am I doing wrong?

 

A month after Lonnie came to live with me, I finally had enough money to get a bigger apartment. Atty helped us move but didn’t stay long, leaving after she got the last box inside.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to help you unpack, if you want,” she said.

“It’s okay, we’ll be fine,” I said in return.

She nodded and left.

 

A week later and everything was unpacked. Lonnie had her own room down the hall from mine. I gave her the master bedroom because it wasn’t like I needed it.

More often than not, though, she woke me in the middle of the night by crawling into bed with me.

I didn’t say anything, and I didn’t stop her.

I also didn’t tell her it was okay.

 

Friday nights became Family Night. I wasn’t sure when this happened, or when Atty became family, but whatever. Lonnie seemed to like it and Atty brought the beer.

Root beer, that is.

“Nope, sorry, Bassy, no beer while you’re on duty.”

“I’m not on duty!”

“You’re always on duty when you’re being a daddy, Bassy Boy. Deal with it.”

“I hate you.”

“Hate you too.”

It was weird that my life came to this. I currently sat on the couch with the twisty spinner in my hand, watching Atty and Lonnie play Twister. Atty made a show of falling over and Lonnie giggled, that true, honest giggle she never did around me.

If Atty noticed my glower, she didn’t say anything.

Although, she did stop playing and kicked me off the couch.

“Play with your kid, she’s vicious,” she said, snagging the twisty dial from my hand.

I blinked down at Lonnie like I’d never seen her before.

Play with her?

Oh, yeah. That was what parents did. They played with their kids.

So why did it feel so awkward?

Ten minutes later, it was easy. So easy. She was laughing and smiling and calling me ‘daddy’, and this warmth exploded in my heart and I pulled her into a hug, causing her to fall over, but then, we both did.

“You cheated!” she declared with a giggle.

“I did no such thing,” I said in return, glancing at Atty. “Right?”

Atty shrugged. “I didn’t see anything.”

 

This continued for a few weeks. It slowly got easier, being a parent. It was never exactly easy but it was better, at least. I didn’t keep reaching for a beer and scowling when it was only root beer. I expected the taste now. I also expected the door to open some nights and feel that warmth press against my back as Lonnie drifted off to sleep.

We didn’t have a problem until she had to go to school.

“I don’t wanna go,” she said, staring up at me with those big doe eyes, and I frowned.

“You have to,” I said. “You’re a big girl now.”

“No! I don’t wanna go! I wanna stay with you!”

I shook my head. “Lonnie, it’s Kindergarten. It’s only for a few hours. You’ll be home by noon and we’ll go eat and I’ll even let you get those cheese fries.”

She perked up a little. “Is Aunt Atty coming too?”

I swallowed. “Aunt?” I echoed.

She nodded. “Is she? Huh? Huh? She loves cheese fries!”

I nodded numbly and drove her to school.

 

“She thinks you’re her aunt,” I growled after I dropped her off, crushing the cell phone to my ear.

“Um… okayyy…” Atty said unsurely.

I scowled. “You’re not family.”

There was a pause.

“Gee. Thanks,” Atty said, and I was shocked that she actually sounded hurt.

“Atty,” I murmured.

“Talk to you later, Bass.”

I sighed and tossed the phone into the passenger seat, scrubbing a hand over my face.

 

 

“Where’s Aunt Atty?” Lonnie asked as we ordered our food.

I shook my head. “She was busy. Sorry.”

If I sounded bitter, she didn’t notice.

“Daddy, I want ice cream.”

“Alright,” I sighed. “Fine.”

We both got ice cream, and I forgot about the conversation with Atty.

 

It got easier, sending Lonnie to school. She admitted it wasn’t so bad and she liked her teacher, so that helped. We always had to go eat after school, though. It was apparently another ritual.

Just like Family Nights on Friday.

And today was Friday.

I waited for Atty to show up like always.

Expected her to come walking through the door like she owned the place.

Except she didn’t.

The door remained closed and Lonnie looked doubtful, her eyes shooting toward my face.

It was then I realized I hadn’t talked to Atty since Monday, in that conversation in the car.

“Daddy, when’s Aunt Atty coming?”

I swallowed and looked down at her. “She’s busy,” I said. “But we can still have fun, right?”

She frowned but nodded.

“How about I make some brownies?”

At that, she lit up and grinned, and I couldn’t help but smile as well.

 

 

August 15

Atty’s avoiding me. Bitch.

 

A few days later, while Lonnie was in school, I marched over to Atty’s apartment and loudly knocked on the door until she finally pulled it open and frowned at me.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you avoiding me?” I snapped, pushing past her, into the apartment. She closed the door behind us.

“Make yourself at home,” she drawled.

“Thanks, I will,” I said, flopping down on her couch. “Lonnie missed you Friday.”

“Yeah, well, had things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Does it matter?” she asked, and I shrugged. “ ‘sides, wouldn’t want to interfere in family time.”

I winced. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I was being a jerk. You… You’re family to her. And…” I took in a breath and released it slowly, steeling myself. “And to me.”

It was true. Atty was the closest thing to family I had. In all honesty I wasn’t sure where I would be without her. Maybe dead, killed driving home from a bar when I was far too drunk, or alcohol poisoning in my depression at not finding a job or a friend here.

Honestly it was better not to think about those things.

She shrugged. “I was still busy. Sorry. Maybe next time.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Maybe next time.”

 

The next Friday, Atty showed up early, with a bouquet of flowers which she presented to Lonnie with a graceful bow.

“m’lady,” she said.

Lonnie giggled and took the flowers. “Aunt Atty!” she said happily, launching herself at him. Atty stiffened and wrapped her arms around her as well.

“Um… look, kid, I’m not-” she started.

“She’s not ready to play Twister yet,” I cut in, and Atty frowned at me, “so we have to eat first.”

Lonnie nodded and ran into the kitchen.

Atty frowned at me again.

I shrugged and nodded my head toward the kitchen, and she followed after me as I went after my daughter.

If Lonnie wanted to call her Aunt Atty, that was fine. She already was having a hard enough time of things, what with her mother’s death and subsequent relocation. If she wanted an Aunt Atty, she’d get one.

I wasn’t going to complain.