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“I agree. We can’t watch over the club for that long and it needs to be run by someone who the staff is familiar with during the transition,” I say.
“Lana,” Eden says absentmindedly as she gets up from the couch and heads to the kitchen.
“What was that?” Simon asks.
Pushing the speakerphone button on my phone, I follow Eden’s delightful wiggling ass.
She pulls a clean bottle from her tiny dishwasher.
Is everything small or old here?
“What did you say, Eden?” I ask her.
“You said something about needing someone to take over the club during the transition.” She turns and opens a cabinet, pulling out a can of formula one-handed. “Lana. She knows everyone and doesn’t do drugs or deal.”
“That could work…” Simon says thoughtfully, and we can hear the tapping of a keyboard in the background. “Jude, call me tomorrow afternoon, around one. We need to talk about some irregularities in the books Rodney had going.”
“Certainly,” I say, then add as an afterthought, “Give my best to your family.”
Simon pauses for a moment before hanging up. “And my best to your new family, as well.”
“We’re not your family, Jude,” Eden says, but this time I don’t hear the same fight in her voice.
She’s tired and she’s worried about Abel, but she’s wearing down to the inevitable.
“You are, Eden. The moment your eyes met mine,” I quietly say to her as she pops the full bottle into Abel’s mouth. “You should have never come back to Rodney’s office in the first place, but the fact that you did just seals the pact. You were meant to come back there, and it was meant for me to catch you watching.”
Which makes my mind want to trace back all the minutes and hours of the past two days.
Why did she come back there? Why did she search us out? Was she simply being nosy? Or was it an honest mistake?
Eden blinks, the wheels inside her brain obviously moving. But instead of saying anything, she just closes her eyes for a long moment and then opens again, as if she’s wondering if this is all a dream.
Moving around me, she heads into the living room and sits back down on the couch.
Sitting down at the opposite end of the couch, I watch her nuzzle her nose against Abel’s cheek as he eats. He’s gobbling down the formula. The pain meds must have helped with his ear.
“Nathaniel wants us to bring him in to his office soon. He’d like to do a thorough checkup. He mentioned something about a tongue tie,” I say. “I’m not entirely sure what that is.”
When in doubt and when someone doesn’t want to talk to you, always try asking them something they know about. Allowing them to explain something to you gives them an imaginary advantage.
Eden sighs almost sadly. “That’s why he uses formula.”
“The tongue tie thing?” I ask.
“Yes. The doctors discovered it right after he was born. He wasn’t able to latch onto me.”
She’s staring down at Abel and I can’t see her eyes, but there’s emotion in her words.
“I was going to let them snip the tie, but my husband… he wouldn’t let them do it. He didn’t want to pay for it, and didn’t like the idea of Abel nursing on me. He thought breastfeeding was unnatural.”
“Stupid fuck,” I grumble to her.
“That’s how I felt, about myself as much as him. Breastfeeding would be so much easier than scrimping every penny for formula.”
“I didn’t mean you. Your ex-husband browbeat you into that decision, I bet.”
Her answering silence is all the evidence I need of that.
