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Chapter 7
SETH
Ilockthetop and bottom of the door and flip the sign over to display ‘Closed.’ Finally. The store is quiet as I look out the window, watching people walk by on the sidewalk. Darkness has already settled over the town, yet I can still here people laughing and talking at the bar next door. It’s been so long since I last partied. Well, really just about a month, which is still a long time given I used to party every week. I haven’t quite missed it. I wonder if I will after the baby is born.
I crack my neck while returning to the counter, groaning at the little release it gives me. The day isn’t over yet, I think, while opening the cash register. It’s not like we were all that busy today. The problem is I opened this morning, meaning I had to be here at eight in the morning. I won’t be leaving here until at least nine and it will take forever to get home given Hunter is already at his training seminar. These long days are killing me, but I need them. Rachel is having her c-section in four very short days, and I don’t think I will be able to spend this much time at work when she will need help during the day. I was hoping to make enough money to help out with bills, but I don’t think I have made enough to even help out with grocery bills. Buying food for four people is already expensive, but with a baby on the way? There’s no way I have saved enough.
I slam the register closed after placing the money in the envelope. Everything adds up. I should probably recount it, just to make sure, but I’m too tired. All I want to do is get home and snuggle up close to Rachel. Grabbing the broom from the closet, I begin sweeping the floors. The owner is a stickler for cleanliness. Not that he comes in all that often, but I know, on the off chance he does come, if he sees even a hint of dust, he will be pissed.
As I sweep, I can’t help worrying about what the next month will bring us. I haven’t had the best role models in my life, so I have no clue how to be a dad. Mom was barely there for me, given she had bills to pay, and grandma, though she tried, was too old to be chasing after little ol’ me. I was pretty much left to my own devices, which is how I became the asshole I am today. And the men Mom did bring around were pretty shitty.
“Grab me a beer,” I remember one saying. I don’t quite remember his name, but his face will always be engraved in my memories. I don’t know what Mom ever saw in him. He had a shaved head and a beer gut. Not the most attractive of men, given how beautiful Mom was, and still is. He used to wear these big rings, and whenever I disobeyed him, he would smash them against my skull, rubbing the metal so hard it would bruise. Sometimes I would lose patches of hair. Somehow, Mom never noticed. Or maybe she did and ignored it.
“Grab me one and you, as well,” he used to say.
I was eight at the time.
He definitely never received Father of the Year awards.
Antonio was a treat—the boyfriend after Mom finally kicked whats-his-face to the curb. He was a bit more attractive, meaning he wasn’t fat and had a mound of curls on his head, with long eyelashes framing pretty green eyes. He used to put his cigarettes out on my arm. Just the thought of it makes me stop sweeping. My gaze goes to my right arm. If I squint, I can still see the marks.
Antonio used to abuse me while Grandma was taking her nap and Mom was at work. He didn’t come around much. Mostly when Mom begged him to watch me and my siblings if she knew she had to stay late. Antonio hated us. I don’t know why he chose my mother of all people to screw, but apparently there was something about her he liked. Just not her kids. I always wondered if he was into drugs—selling them, not doing them. I remember him always yelling at someone on the phone and staring outside our window as if he was worried police were suddenly going to bust through our door. And I always hoped they would. Back when I went to church with Grandma, I used to pray something terrible would happen to Antonio to take him away from us.
Eventually, he left of his own accord. I think he got sick of us kids. Mom was devastated, which was infuriating given Antonio treated us so terribly. But she moved on to the next asshole, and the next, until finally I was in high school and I could look after my siblings on my own—helping them get ready for school, packing their lunches, ensuring they actually went to school and did their homework. Those are the things I could do. I was a good big brother. I know that.
But being a father? That’s a whole other thing. I don’t even know where to begin other than not letting the kid drink at eight and not beating them. There’s more to parenting than that, I just don’t know what it is. I never thought I would be a father. Maybe this is something I should have discussed with Rachel and the bros, but I assumed we had more time. We’ve always been so safe, and Rachel was on the fucking pill.
“The pill doesn’t work all the time, Seth,” I mumble to myself while propping the broom against the wall.
I remember researching the pill after I left Rachel and the bros, and the horror stories filling the internet left me practically braindead for the entire day. Nine percent is the chance of failure, which is much higher than I ever thought. There were loads of stories about girls getting pregnant while on the pill. Something about not taking it every day, or not starting a new pack immediately. Or girls having a stomach bug and throwing up the pill and not realizing it. Apparently, these things happened all the time. I just wish I would have known about it before.
Looking around at the store, a sigh of relief escapes me as I look around at the glistening floor and the tidied shelves. It’s time to go home. Finally. I can go snuggle with my Rachel for the next eight hours before I repeat this entire day tomorrow. As I reach for my bag, resting behind the counter, my phone begins vibrating.
I snatch it immediately, worried something has happened to Rachel.
“Hello?” I say shakily.
“Seth, it’s me,” comes Alex’s cheerful voice. “I just got through immigration. Thought I would give you a call.”
“Oh!” A shaky chuckle leaves me while I shake my head. “Sorry. For some weird reason, I thought—”
“Nope, nothing to worry about. It’s just me calling to tell you I landed safely.”
Alex is so good at understanding me. I don’t know what I did in my past life to land both Rachel and him. They’re way too good to me given all the hell I put them through.
“How was your flight?” I ask while grabbing my coat.
Alex sighs. “I’m just happy it’s over. Turbulence was bad. And you? How was your day?”
“Also happy it’s over,” I say while throwing my bag over my shoulder. “It’s also kinda nice having something to keep me busy.”
“Don’t worry about Rachel,” Alex says in that kind, gentle voice that makes my heart flutter. “The doctor says she’s doing well. Her blood pressure is down, and the baby is healthy.”
At the mention of ‘baby,’ I instantly grimace. “Yeah, I know. I’m also…kinda worried about other things.”
There’s a long pause followed by an awkward, “Oh.”
As much as Alex understands me, I hate myself for not being able to read him as easily. I have no clue what’s going through his head right now. Does he mean ‘oh’ as in ‘I’m sorry you’re so worried and would you like to talk about it’? Or ‘oh,’ as in ‘I’m so stressed, I don’t have time to deal with this’?
