Selfish Love

It rang once.

Twice.

And halfway through the third ring, it disconnected.

I swallowed hard, then tried again.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then it picked up.

"Hi, you've reached Em Reilly of Portraits by Em and Passion by Fire. I'm not available right now, but please leave a message or send me a text at this number if you're looking for an appointment."

Beep.

For a heartbeat, I couldn't say anything, and then I cleared my throat and tried to speak past the dryness in my mouth.

"Em, it's me," I said. "I... I know shit's been... I can't do this on a voicemail. Call me. Please. I need... I need help."

After I hung up, I sat there silently, then pulled up my messages. After all, maybe she was screening my calls. She'd have every right to.

You were right.

I sent it, then pressed my lips together.

Please. Please call me.

When my phone finally rang hours later, startling me out of a half-hazy doze I hadn't realized I'd fallen into, it wasn't Em.

"Gooooood evening Mom, did you watch the Grinch without me?" Baylee sang into the phone.

I laughed shakily and tried to sing back. "Don't worry sweetie, I wouldn't watch your favourite movie without youuu!"

She groaned and then giggled. "Mom it's not my favourite movieee. It. Is. Yours."

Let no one say my daughter wasn't committed. She sang every single word as she told me all about how Daniel had taken her out to a "real fancy restaurant" for dinner that turned out to be the Olive Garden, which I'd never taken her to because the Olive Garden in Pueblo was right next to the Red Lobster and I fucking love shellfish, so that was where we went on special occasions. And she sang about how Daniel had set up a whole bedroom just for her that had a princess bed with a canopy and a fluffy pink carpet and a big window that looked into the backyard.

She sang about the Christmas tree at his house and how he said they were gonna go see Grandma the next day. And she sang about how the day after that, he was going to take her out to the North Pole Colorado that Leia had visited with Em and Alex a few weeks ago, since it wasn't too far from where Daniel lived, and that she'd try real hard but Daniel said there wasn't good phone reception near the mountains so she might be a little late calling at dinner.

And when someone said something to her that I couldn't quite hear in the background, she sang that she missed me lots and hoped I slept well and she'd talk to me in the morning.

"And I la-la-la-LOVE you!" she finished.

I hoped she couldn't hear the wateriness of my voice. "I la-la-la-love you too, little firefly. Goodnight."

"Night, Mom," she whisper-sang, and then the phone went quiet.

Em hadn't called back. Or texted. It hurt, seeing that, but I thought... well.

Almost mindlessly, I got in my car and drove to Em's new house. Along the way, I rehearsed the things I wanted to say to her almost numbly, almost like I was making a checklist of transgressions and ways I'd fucked up.

I wanted to tell her that I was sorry.

That I was stupid.

That I was selfish.

That she was right.

That I needed her. That I was probably always going to be a little ashamed of asking for help but that I would try, I would really try to get better at it.

That I said things I shouldn't have and wished I could take back. That she hadn't deserved that. That I was so fucking sorry that I'd pushed her away and would she please, please forgive me?

And that Daniel had stolen Baylee from me for Christmas and that I knew it shouldn't have taken something like that to get me to reach out but if she could maybe find it in her heart to give me a hug and let me cry for a while, I would really, really appreciate it.

When I pulled up in front of Alex and Em's house, her car was in the driveway and I could see lights on through the front window of the house. Out of habit, I parked across the street; Alex had a garage full of cars far too expensive to park outside, so I tried not to block the garage in case he was out working or something.

As it turned out, it didn't matter.

I knocked on the door rather than ringing the bell. Leia was in bed, I assumed, since it was definitely past her bedtime. No one answered right away, so I knocked again, slightly louder.

Before I could knock a third time, the door opened and a heartbeat went by.

"Kels?" Jimmy finally said. "What are you doing here?"

Of course it had to be him.

"Can I talk to Em?" I asked.

"Uh, she's not here."

I stared at him blankly. "What?"

"She's... she and Alex went to the mountains for the weekend," he said. "I'm here watching Leia because..."

He trailed off. That was fine, since there was no reason for him to finish the sentence. He was watching Leia because Em and I had fought and so she couldn't ask me to watch Leia.

Because Em and I weren't friends anymore.

"Oh," I said, then swallowed hard. "Okay. Well, um, tell her I stopped by, if you don't mind, and that, um, I tried calling her and... and that's all, I guess."

"Bullshit, that's all," Jimmy said bluntly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Kelsie."

"I'm fine."

"Yeah? You're totally fine?"

"That's what I said."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you dropped by after not talking to my sister or to any of us in what, almost a week because you're fine? You look like hell."

I laughed. I mean, it was a fake laugh, but I laughed. Or I made a noise of some kind. "Yeesh. You sure know how to flatter a lady."

"You know what I mean," he said, not laughing. "You've been crying. You're literally still crying."

I scoffed, wiping my hands across the wetness on my cheeks that I hadn't realized was there. "No, I'm not. I'm fine. It was good to see you, Jimbo. I'm gonna go and--"

"Kelsie," he said slowly, frowning as he looked past me. "Where's Baylee?"

I wasn't entirely sure if I managed to say anything intelligible, but whether I answered him or not, Jimmy's arms caught me and held me close as I fell to pieces, sobbing against his chest in the doorway of Alex and Em's house.

Fourteen

Jimmy Reilly used to be a rock star, sort of.

Jimmy used to drink too much, smoke too much, and blew too much money on drinking, smoking, and blow.

He used to have a temper.

I mean, he still did, but it used to be worse.

He used to be made of anger in a way that I both feared and understood. He had every reason to be angry after the life he'd had, but that didn't make it any easier to witness. I'd never been afraid of Jimmy, not really, but I'd feared the potential that anger had to poison him, to a man who guarded his ego fiercely because it was all he had and turn him into the kind of monster who realized how much power he had when he was in control.

That had never happened, though.

And it never would.

Because at his core, he was good. He knew right from wrong. He may have misstepped from time to time when he was--God, it felt so wrong to say "when he was younger" when he was still so fucking young--but he'd learned. He'd grown. He'd committed himself to doing better, being better, controlling the anger and pain that had followed him since he was younger than Baylee and Leia were now.

And that was the Jimmy I knew. That was the Jimmy that was making it so hard to stay away, that I was thinking about in ways I shouldn't because he was twenty-one and I was decidedly not twenty-one and was also his sister's--well. Used to be his sister's best friend, I guess.

The point was, the Jimmy I knew was more mature than he should have been. He was level-headed and sweet. He was funny and had a smile that had far more of an effect on me than his moody little scowl did.

So to see him lose control when I finally managed to tell him what Daniel had done was terrifying.

But not as terrifying as what he was trying to do.

"You can't," I hissed, lunging forward to grab my phone from him.

He pulled it away from me, standing firm. "Kelsie, he--are you fucking serious?! You can't be thinking straight here. He kidnapped Baylee! I'm calling the goddamn police."

It said a lot about how much I trusted Jimmy that I was comfortable enough to push past him and try to grab my phone again. The instinct to never put myself in a position where a man could shove me or hit me or throw me away was strong, but with him, it wasn't there.

But I wasn't capable of realizing that, not when I was embroiled in a hushed-but-intense conversation-slash-battle to get my phone back before he could make everything worse by calling the fucking police without waking up Leia and Pepper, who were sleeping in Leia's brand-new bedroom down the hallway.

"I'm not the one not thinking straight," I whisper-shouted back.

"He kidnapped your--"

"Stop saying that!" The pitch of my voice rose, since my volume couldn't.

His eyes seemed to flash with anger. "Then what did he do, huh? What do you want to call what he did, huh?"

"That--" I swatted at my phone "--doesn't--" I stumbled and he threw his arm out to keep me from falling "--matter!"

On the final word, I jostled his arm and my phone went tumbling to the ground. I meant to kick it out of the way so he couldn't grab it again, but I wasn't exactly steady on my feet and a sickening crunch came from under my shoe.

"Shit," I whispered.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered. He made sure I was balanced before letting go of me. "I'm going to get my phone. I'm calling the police whether you--"

"Would you fucking listen to me for one goddamn minute?!"

It was loud enough that he froze, glancing wildly down the hall towards Leia's bedroom before looking back at me with indignant offense that I dare raise the volume of my voice during our argument.

"What do you think is going to happen if you call the police, Jimbo?" I asked, my face burning as I struggled to lower my voice. "I agreed he could have a week. I took the money from him. And Baylee wanted to go."

"She... what?" he asked, confused.

"She wanted to go," I repeated. "She wanted to spend Christmas with her grandma and grandpa and all her family because sh-she doesn't g-get to see them and I d-don't have a family. She wanted to go."

My voice cracked and the next thing I knew, his arms were around me.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as I buried my face against his chest again. "Fuck, I didn't--I'm sorry, Kels."

"All calling the police will do is give him more ammunition," I choked. "S-So he'd be able to argue he should have c-custody because she w-wants to be there. Then h-he can take me back to c-court and I'll lose her."

"You won't lose her," he whispered, his arms tightening around me. "You're not losing her."

"Don't call the p-police. There's nothing we can do. He's won, okay? Just p-please don't call them."

"I won't," he promised. "I... I wasn't thinking about that. I'm sorry."

He calmed me again, just like he had the first time, consoling me when I was inconsolable until I'd managed to tell him what had happened. This time, instead of his anger ballooning and bursting when he found out what Daniel had done, he ushered me to the couch in the living room, settling me there with a box of Kleenex before bringing me my busted phone and going to the kitchen to get me a glass of water. When he came back, he found me with my head in my hands, elbows propped up on my knees. He sat beside me almost hesitantly, seemingly uncertain about what to do, but it was only when a tentative hand found my back and made gentle circles that I began to calm down.

That hand fell away when I sat up to reach for the water he'd brought, but he allowed himself to relax against the couch a bit as I wiped my face and took a steadying breath, then drank more of the water.

"What happened with you and Em?" he asked after I put the glass down.

I frowned but didn't look at him. "What do you mean, what happened?"

"She didn't tell me."

I didn't say anything. After a moment, he sighed.

"I know you had a fight. I know Em went back and forth between being raging mad and devastated. At first I thought she maybe found out about, like... you know."

"Me sucking your dick?" I asked blandly.

He tried to stifle a laugh. "Uh, yeah, among the other things."

I felt the hint of a smile twist my lips, though it might not have been enough to even be visible. "Not as far as I know."

"I feel like if that were the case, she would've said something to me," he said. "I know it had to have been something big but she wouldn't tell me. But with... you said you told Daniel he could have more time with Baylee because he gave you money, and there was the fight with Mike and then the check..."

Of course he'd figured it out, too.

I waited for that moment of nauseated shame, for my stomach to curl and my face to burn and anger to surge through me as it tried to protect me from humiliation. But whether my emotions were completely burnt out or that the whole thing seemed like a relatively small turd compared to the most recent load of shit hitting the fan that was my life, that wave of embarrassment didn't happen.

Instead, I let out a resigned sigh and closed my eyes.

"I couldn't afford Baylee's Christmas present," I said. "The Taylor Swift tickets. So I asked Daniel to pay for them. And when Em found out, she decided it was her right to tell me how fucking stupid she thinks I am and I..." I cleared my throat. "I might've said some things I shouldn't have said, too."

A heartbeat went by. I couldn't see him, but I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. "I don't mean to sound like a dick, but--"

"Because I was embarrassed," I snapped. "Because I can't give my daughter the same things that Leia gets and I didn't want to admit that to anyone and instead, I thought maybe her dad would help since despite seeming completely incapable of caring about another living creature, he cares about her. And then he wouldn't so I tried to do it all myself because I didn't want to deal with Em and Alex and stupid fucking Mike judging me over it, just like I don't want to deal with you judging me right now."

"I'm not judging you," he said. "Not even a little bit."

I snorted, that watery tone returning to my voice. "You should be."

"Why?"

"Because I could have avoided this whole thing if I'd just said I couldn't afford the tickets," I said. "It's like Em said. I put myself in this position for... for concert tickets to friggin' Taylor Swift, of all people."

"So you think I should judge you because you reacted to a situation in a totally understandable way?"

I frowned again, opening my eyes. "What?"

"No one likes admitting they need help." I felt him shrug beside me. "Like, I've been there. Remember when I had to sit down and ask Alex for help after my career went to shit and..." He cleared his throat. "It fucking sucked. No one wants to admit they fucked up. I dunno if Em understands what that's like. She's got a different outlook on that kind of thing 'cause of what she used to do for work. Like, the modelling and stuff. But I imagine it's probably a lot harder when you're also dealing with a dirtbag like your ex who's waiting to jump on any little thing you might mess up."

After all of it, after everything I'd been dealing with, that was apparently all I needed to hear.

Before I knew it, I was telling Jimmy everything that had led up to my fight with Em. About the anger, the sadness, the fear. About how I felt like I barely knew her anymore. About working my ass off and losing everything I'd saved up.

And I told him about going to Daniel for help, about what I'd promised him and how he'd twisted it. And how I just wanted my little girl to have the things she wanted. Not all of them, of course, I didn't want to spoil her.

But I wanted her to be happy.

"I just want her to know her parents care about her," I said, wiping my eyes again. "Like, I know Daniel's a squalling turd, but whether I like it or not, he's her dad and he cares about her. I don't want her growing up thinking he doesn't and developing some fucking complex about it."

"You know if he cared about her, he'd give her all this shit without asking for anything in return, right?"

I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it.

"You know that, right?" Jimmy pressed. "Regardless of how he feels about you--and trust me, I don't understand how anyone could not fucking adore you--if he really cared about Baylee, he'd make sure she had everything she needed and wanted. Even if it meant you'd... I don't know. Look like you benefited from it or whatever."

I still didn't know what to say to that, so I latched onto the one thing I could and laughed dryly. "There's a lot of reasons people don't adore me, Jimbo. Like calling someone Jimbo even though they clearly aren't a huge fan of it. Or calling out my best friend's parenting when I clearly am in no position to comment on anyone's parenting skills."

"Bullshit," he said. "Jesus, Kels. You're fucking awesome, you know that? You're so friggin' cool and hilarious and straightforward. You're unapologetic. And it doesn't hurt that you're hot as fuck, obviously, but--"

"Yeesh, laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

"I am not," he insisted, and before I knew it, he had grabbed my hand and was looking into my eyes with an imploring earnestness I didn't know how to handle. "You are awesome. You are. And the thing that blows my mind about all of this is how someone like you ended up married to such a piece of shit."

"I was selfish."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "That's not--you remember you told me how you ended up with him, right? That your parents... like, Jesus, Kels, getting a belly button ring doesn't mean your parents should've sold you to some guy who groomed you into thinking you couldn't do any better."

"They didn't sell me. He... he wanted me, so--"

"Fucking regardless!" His outburst came out louder than he intended and I saw him glance towards the hallway before lowering his voice. "That has nothing to do with you being selfish. You realize how fucked up that is? That your parents let some guy marry you because they found out you had a belly button ring?"

"They only found out I had a belly button ring because of my abortion."

I didn't say it loudly, but the words seemed to echo all the same. I didn't say it angrily, or shamefully, or regretfully, or any of the other emotions people assumed should be associated with an admission like that. I said it the same way I'd said it to Daniel the first time, long before he'd played with my mind and convinced me he knew me better than I did: matter of factly, quietly, owning up to every aspect of the decision that I'd made and what it meant.

Jimmy paused, his head tilting to the side like some kind of adorably confused puppy stuck in some horrendous nightmare of a situation, stuck between wondering why I hadn't told him the whole story before and why it had happened.

So I told him.

Selfishness is what brought me to Daniel. My selfishness, and my parents' selfishness, and Daniel's selfishness disguised as generosity. My parents hadn't known how to deal with a teenage girl that loved loud music and multi-coloured hair and sneaking out behind their backs. They screamed and yelled and lectured, they sent me to counselling at the church, they threatened and shook their heads and stamped their feet, but nothing worked.

Not until I got pregnant.

It didn't matter by who or how. That wasn't... it wasn't something I wanted to think about. I'd been a wild teenager because I'd had no other choice and I'd ended up in a situation where I had to make a choice.

And I made the right choice. The only regret I ever had was that it was what brought Daniel into my life.