Selfish Love

Wednesday, when I both regretted my words and didn't.

Wednesday--well, Thursday, technically--when I sat near the window at two in the morning, staring out at the house across the street, a place now foreign yet familiar, where I used to sit with a woman who was more family to me than my own family ever had been.

When I realized Christmas was a few days away, and that we were supposed to spend it with Em and Leia and Alex and Jimmy, and the realization it probably wasn't going to happen and I was going to have to tell Baylee that.

When I was silently thankful that at least I'd gotten the Taylor Swift tickets from Em weeks ago so I didn't have to deal with that bullshit on top of bringing money to the studio for Mike.

When I realized Em not being in my life meant that Jimmy wouldn't be in my life either. When I tried to convince myself that was a good thing because Jimmy was not for me. That he was too young, that this was for the best, that it was going to be far easier to not be around him because we couldn't have had anything anyway.

When I couldn't stop picturing his face and the way he'd looked into my eyes as I'd knelt in front of him. The way he'd clutched me, his quiet voice pleading with me to give him a moment. The way his lips felt. The way his arms felt. The way his fingers felt inside of me.

When I told myself I needed help.

It got me through all of Thursday, that final day of school before Baylee's Christmas vacation started. It got me through work, even though I was running on barely three hours of sleep. It got me through telling my boss if I was leaving a little early because I wanted to pick Baylee up myself, since I didn't need to keep working crazy hours now that Daniel had agreed to give me more money, and also would she mind if I took the next day off, which she instantly agreed to. It got me through the now-familiar wave of nausea every time I remembered I'd let him buy time with our daughter.

Baylee didn't know I was planning on picking her up, so I parked my car down the block and walked up to the school to meet her at the doors instead of waiting in the parking lane. There was a handful of other parents milling about, hazy puffs of breath hanging frozen in the air as we shivered against the walls of the school. I rubbed my hands together, wishing I'd brought my gloves as I listened to the sounds of younger children enjoying the playground equipment while their older siblings finished up the school day.

It was a few minutes before the dismissal bell rang that my phone vibrated, which I felt because my hands were firmly shoved in my pockets in an attempt to stay warm. Almost hesitantly, I took it out of my pocket.

And then I nearly dropped it as I gaped at the notification on the screen.

Five thousand dollars.

An automatic deposit of five thousand dollars had dropped into my account from Daniel.

It had to be a mistake, I thought. One extra zero, maybe. Five hundred was less than I'd asked for but I wouldn't put it past him to split things into multiple payments to try to give me less. Shivering, I took a screenshot of the notification and texted it to Daniel.

Is this a mistake?

He barely waited thirty seconds before messaging back.

I don't make mistakes, my dear. Enjoy.

Enjoy.

I gaped at my phone, stunned beyond belief.

Five thousand dollars.

It was more than enough for everything. For the tickets and the car and... I mean, shit, there was enough in there that I could have bought regular-priced panties from Victoria's Secret, plus a drum kit for Baylee if I really wanted to torture myself. But it was the first thing I was most concerned about; paying back Mike was the priority. Almost giddily, I dug into my purse to find my checkbook and a pen.

Yes, a checkbook.

Anyone who says checks have no place in the modern world does not have a child in school and various other sports and activities. Checks were far easier than dealing with a thousand and a half e-transfers and credit cards and shit. There was always some activity that needed money or some teacher that wanted forty-two dollars and fifty cents for a field trip fee, exact change or checks only. So yes, I had a checkbook, and yes, I used it regularly, and yes, I scribbled a check to one Mr. Mike Acton for the exact amount of the goddamn Taylor Swift tickets. I managed to resist adding "here you go, you grumpy fuck" to the memo section, signed it, and tucked it into my pocket with the full intent of stopping by the studio on our way home.

And then the final bell went off.

Excitement buzzed out of the school before the first throng of students even threw the doors open to rush home for the winter holidays. It was electric, that energy, and despite my exhaustion and general inability to feel anything above dejection, I had to smile as I heard the joy and laughter behind the walls of the school.

The older kids made it out first, likely because the vast majority of them knew how to zip up their own jackets and tie their own shoelaces, save for the ones who were far too cool to stay warm in winter. They swaggered past the waiting parents, laughing and hollering and cursing simply because they could, because what was anyone going to do? It was Christmas, after all.

Most of them were gone by the time the younger kids started filtering through the doors. Rousing cries of "Mom! Look what Mrs. Vargas taught us to make today!" and "Moo-oooom! MOM! Can we stop at McDonald's on the way home?" and "Mom? What are you doing here?"

"Hey, sweetie," I said in response to the last one as Baylee shrieked and burst past the other kids. "Surprise!"

"I don't have to go to daycare today?" she asked, excitedly throwing her arms around my waist and making my heart melt in a way only she could.

"Nope," I replied, hugging her with one arm. "I decided we're going to have a girls' night. With hot chocolate and candy for dinner and Christmas movies for dessert. And I took tomorrow off too, so we can spend the whole first day of Christmas break together."

Her face brightened even more, somehow, and she danced a strange little jig, giggling and spinning and making me remember why, at the end of the long, long days, it was always worth it.

"Hi, Kelsie!" A second later, Leia came rushing up. "Are you picking us up today?"

Fuck.

"I, um, I'm not sure," I said. "I think your mom might be here to pick you up."

Leia frowned. "Really? But Uncle Jimmy's been picking me up."

Of fucking course he was.

"Right," I said. "Well, let's double check and make sure Jimmy isn't here yet because I didn't, um, talk to him before I finished work."

She looked towards the parent parking lane. "Oh. He is here. Probably 'cause I gotta go to the studio." She turned to Baylee, her eyes wide and sincere. "We're gonna hang out over Christmas break though, right?"

"Uh, duh," my sassy child said with an eye roll and a giggle.

"Duh," Leia repeated, and they both grinned as they embraced each other.

"See you later, Kelsie!" Leia said, then skipped her way towards the parking lane.

"C'mon," I said to Baylee. "I'm parked down the street."

She sighed heavily. "Okay, but can you carry my backpack? It's heavy."

"Heavy?" I repeated, taking the bag from her. "You think this is heavy? Maybe we need to start eating more broccoli for dinner so your muscles start growing."

"Broccoli doesn't make you stronger," she said.

"Sure it does."

"Nuh-uh. That's just a story they tell kids to make them eat more broccoli."

"Why else would people eat broccoli?"

"I don't know, Mom. They shouldn't 'cause it's gross."

I couldn't hold back a laugh as we reached the sidewalk.

"Kels!" someone called from behind us.

Well, I say someone.

I knew who that someone was.

And I ignored him.

"Hey, Kels! Kelsie!"

"Sir, you need to get back in your car," I heard one of the pickup supervisors say. "There's no parking here."

"I just need to talk to her real quick. Kelsie!"

"Sir, get back in your car."

"Jesus, lady, give me one goddamn second to--"

"Mr. Reilly, there are children around!"

"Mom, I think Jimmy's trying to get your attention," Baylee said quietly.

I swallowed hard. "Is he? I didn't see him."

"He's behind us. Miss Abernathy is yelling at him."

Though Miss Abernathy was trying to use her exasperated-fourth-grade-teacher superpowers to herd Jimmy back into his car, he was still standing beside said car waving frantically in my direction.

Which was perfect, actually.

"Wait here," I said to Baylee, putting her backpack beside her and striding towards Jimmy before she could respond.

He looked surprised to see me walking in his direction and moved around the front of his car, ignoring Miss Abernathy as she scolded him fiercely.

"Kels," he said as I reached him. "What the fuck happened with--"

"You're going to the studio right now?" I interrupted.

He frowned. "Uh, yeah, I have to work and--"

"Here." I withdrew the check from my pocket and shoved it at him. Instinctively, he grabbed it. "Give that to Mike. Tell him he's a grumpy old fuck from me."

"Ms. Bauer, there are children!" Miss Abernathy said in a tone so high-pitched that it was almost inaudible to anyone but the nearby dogs.

But it didn't matter. I was halfway back to my daughter before she even finished squealing.

"So, what kind of candy do you want for dinner?" I asked as I reached Baylee and grabbed her backpack.

She grinned maniacally. "Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. And Dino-Sours. And those bright green frogs that are really soft and chewy."

When we got to the CVS, I managed to talk her down from half the candy aisle and convinced her popcorn was also a candy, then promised her she could pick out at least two of the Christmas movies we were watching, as long as we watched How The Grinch Stole Christmas at some point, too.

And no, not the classic cartoon. I fucking loved the Jim Carrey version.

"--pretty sure we've watched it a hundred times, Mom," Baylee complained as we got home.

"A hundred times?" I repeated, closing the car door behind me and grabbing Baylee's backpack again. "I'm pretty sure we watch it one time every Christmas. And you're not a hundred years old."

"I will be if I have to watch that movie one more time."

"Ouch," I said, but I was laughing as I unlocked the door.

"Okay, fine," Baylee said, following me inside. "But only if we get to watch Rudolph first, and then we need a break for more hot chocolate, and then--"

"Shit!"

I barely managed to catch myself after I tripped on the shoes in the front hallway. My wrist bent back painfully as I hit the same wall I'd pressed Jimmy against when I went down on him, a loud thunking sound doing nothing to drown out my shocked cry.

"Mom, are you okay?" Baylee asked, alarmed.

"Yes, Kelsie. Are you all right, my dear?"

I'd tripped on his shoes.

Why his shoes were in my front hall was less of a concern than why he was in my living room. Or rather, why he had been in my living room and was now standing inside the entrance to it, looking at me with mild concern for my well being and strong distaste for the language I'd used in front of our daughter.

"Dad!" Baylee shrieked, kicking her shoes off and shoving past me so she could throw herself into his arms. "What are you doing here?!"

"Surprising my princess, obviously," he said with a warmth that didn't seem possible, given the cold look he was shooting at me above her head.

And it was cold. Cold enough to freeze me in place, to paralyze every inch of me from my mind to my vocal cords to my feet. It was like falling through the ice, the shock of him so sudden and all encompassing that I could do nothing but stare as the air around me turned to liquid, filling my ears and my nose and my lungs.

"I'm so happy to see you!" Baylee was saying, and the only reason I clued in to her talking was because I saw her lips moving. "But--oh no." She looked up at me, her little forehead wrinkled with worry. "We were supposed to have a girls' night."

Daniel smiled tranquilly, his eyes trained on me. "That was part of the surprise, princess. Your mom didn't want you to know I was coming. But she made sure she put the spare key back in the exact same place so I could get in and wait for you to get home from school."

Baylee's face brightened. "Really?"

Someone nodded my head. No idea who it was, because I had no recollection of making the decision to do so, but my head moved up and down and that made Baylee happy.

"Really," Daniel said. "And that's not all. I have a very special Christmas surprise for you, too."

No.

Oh, fuck no.

"Daniel, please," I managed to choke.

He gave me a Look. "This is what we agreed to, my dear."

It wasn't, though. It wasn't at all what we'd agreed to. It was what he wanted and so instead of playing by my rules, he'd created his own. He'd sent the money by the end of the week, as he'd promised, and I'd been so stupid that I hadn't even realized he...

He was cashing in right away.

And he was doing it in front of Baylee so I couldn't say shit about it.

"What'd you agree to?" she asked interestedly.

Daniel bared his teeth in what was probably a grin. "Well, princess, your mom and I decided to surprise you for Christmas this year. How would you like to come spend Christmas with me and Grandma and Grandpa and your whole family, like you said you wanted?"

Her jaw dropped.

"For real?" she finally managed to gasp. "But I thought--"

She turned towards me, forehead creased again.

"Mom, how'd you know I wanted to stay with Dad at Christmas?"

I tried as hard as I could, but I couldn't stop the stinging sensation of tears in my eyes. My face twisted as I tried to smile.

"I just knew, sweetie," I lied.

Her little frown grew deeper. "And you don't mind? 'Cause I didn't want you to think I didn't wanna be with you at Christmas."

"Not at all."

The concern didn't leave her face. "What're you gonna do, though?"

I didn't manage to come up with an answer to that one, but it didn't matter. A moment later, she slapped a hand to her forehead and grinned.

"Duh. You're staying at Mr. Alex's, right?"

"Mr. Alex?" Daniel repeated, eyebrows raised.

"Em's boyfriend," I whispered. "She j-just moved in with him."

"Right," he said, unconvinced.

"Yeah, it sucks," Baylee said. "'Cause that's Leia's mom and now they don't live across the street anymore so we don't get to see each other as much. But that's okay 'cause she's in my class at school and Mr. Alex is her guitar teacher so we get to play more music and he's got a studio at his house and everything."

"Hmm," Daniel said.

Baylee studied my face with far more intensity than a child her age should have been capable of, but not enough insight to know what she was seeing.

"Is Santa gonna know where to find me?" she finally asked. "'Cause if not, I should probably stay here."

Daniel raised an eyebrow at me. I looked at him, wishing I could muster up the strength to do anything but force the biggest smile I could.

"I'll make sure he knows where to find you, sweetie."

Thirteen

She promised to call me three times every day.

I didn't ask her to. Neither did Daniel, obviously. He tried to tell her that three times seemed like a little much because I might be busy or sleeping, but Baylee was insistent.

First thing in the morning, because if she didn't tell me good morning, I might not have a good day.

Around supper time, because every day at dinner we had to tell each other our favourite part of the day and we hadn't missed a single day of doing that in months.

And, of course, right before bed so we could sing our goodnights and "I love you"s and "sweet dreams" because we had a no-talking rule right before bed, but she had argued one day that no talking didn't mean no singing, and so every night we sang at each other for far longer than we should have but I couldn't bring myself to let the habit die because she was my little girl and one day she wouldn't want to sing at me anymore.

He promised she would be safe.

Despite the fact that he broke into my house and manipulated me into letting Baylee pack her things so she could spend an entire week away from me for the first time since he'd put me in the hospital, he gave me his word that she would be safe. And despite the fact that if you bought his word for a nickel, you'd get five pennies in change, I believed him.

I mean, I had to. I had no choice. But I knew he was telling the truth. He wouldn't dare risk anything more than he had; I might have been between a rock and a hard place, but he wouldn't push it any farther. At the end of the day, he might have been able to afford better lawyers than I could, but the records were right there in black and white. So he had to balance, to take what he could in a way that didn't allow me to fight back.

Because I had said he could have a week. And I had taken his money. And the only person who knew about any of this happening was our daughter, who could only see that her dad--the person she wanted to spend Christmas with--showed up to surprise her, and if I said she couldn't go...

Well, who would be the bad guy there?

He promised she would be back one week later, the day after Christmas, with her opinion of me intact and nothing but happy memories in her head. He promised he wouldn't play with her mind. He promised he wouldn't make her think badly of me.

But I wasn't about to bet my pennies on that.

After they left, I sat in the living room, watching the colours dancing on the wall. They came from the Christmas tree near the window, the one I'd put up with Baylee a few weeks earlier. It was an ugly thing, that tree, a cheap plastic one I'd bought at Target the very first Christmas that it was just me and her. I could barely afford presents that year--who was I kidding, I could barely afford food most weeks--but I wasn't going to let Baylee miss Christmas. It was her favourite time of year. I mean, she was a kid, so of course it was, and I was her mom, so of course I wanted to do everything I could to keep it magical for her.

Even if that meant she wanted to spend it with family. I couldn't give that to her, since I didn't have a family, but Daniel could, so... so it was important for her to be there.

Until then, I had been silent. My pain was beyond wailing, beyond screaming, beyond anything I'd ever felt before. I was a tree in a forest, falling with no one to hear me, breaking in a way I'd never been broken before, and considering how very, very broken I was, that was saying something.

I needed someone.

It still took effort to convince myself to go get my phone. I'd talk myself into it, then tell myself Em wouldn't want to hear from me. I'd tell myself that she'd laugh, that she'd take Daniel's side, that she'd berate me for letting him walk out of my house with Baylee in tow. She'd yell and scream and tell me I was a horrible mother, that I was probably never going to see my daughter again, that I didn't deserve to ever see her again.

But maybe she wouldn't.

I mean, she probably wouldn't.

When I finally convinced myself of that, I forced myself to go to the front hallway and get my phone. The selfish little monster inside of me tried to rear up. It tried to remind me of what Em had said, those final words and accusations, that I deserved to be told those hurtful things because they were true but that didn't mean she had to come out and say it.

But she'd been right, and I managed to convince that little monster that calling her was selfish of me, that Em had no reason to want to help me and yet I had the audacity to ask for it. And somehow that logic made sense, so I dialed her number.