HOLD (12 page)

Jacob responded by grimacing and unleashing a mighty storm of gas. 

“Aw, shit,” I muttered because a second later the smell hit and I knew that’s exactly what we were dealing with. 

Jacob smiled at me serenely. 

Truly had left all the baby paraphernalia in plain sight so I had no trouble finding diapers and wipes.  It was the first time I’d ever mopped shit off another human being but I thought I did a good job.  As I was snapping Jacob back into his blue and white outfit he gurgled and laughed and I found myself smiling as I gathered him back up into my arms. 

“Glad your Uncle Creed can amuse you,” I said and then I spun around because I sensed that someone was standing behind me. 

Someone was. 

“Truly leave?” asked Mia.  She was fully dressed although I hadn’t heard her up and about. 

“Just for a little while,” I answered.  “She’ll be back soon.”  I took a step in her direction and started to hand baby Jacob over but Mia recoiled. 

“I can’t right now,” she said, going so far as to back away.  “If you don’t mind watching him I’ve got something I’ve got to take care of.” 

“I don’t mind,” I said.  Jacob had turned his head at the sound of his mother’s voice but he wasn’t crying and holding his arms out to her.  Instead he seemed content to grab onto my t-shirt and watch her from a distance. 

I stared at her hard.  “Are you leaving?”

Mia stared back.  “Just for a few hours.” 

A long moment of silence passed as I thought about whether I should keep asking questions.  “And after that?”

She averted her eyes.  She knew what I meant.  But she just sighed and pulled the frayed strap of an old knapsack over her shoulder.  “Please tell Truly I’ll be back by evening.” 

“You want me to drive you anywhere?”

“No.”

“You need money for bus fare or anything?”

“No.”  She headed for the door, keeping her head down, either because she didn’t want to face my questions or she didn’t want to be reminded that I had her kid in my arms.  “Thanks for offering though,” she said as she hurried through the door without looking back. 

There was still over an hour left before I could expect Truly to return.  I set a baby blanket out on the living floor and carefully placed Jacob on his tummy.  He seemed to especially love a squeaky play hammer that Truly had picked up for him. When I cupped my hand around his little fist and showed him how to make noise by banging it against the floor he squealed with delight. 

I didn’t know much about babies, but this one seemed easy to please.  He was curious and cheerful and every time he smiled in my direction I knew I smiled right back.  After about half an hour of keeping him occupied with baby toys he started fussing. 

“What’s the problem, little man?”  I picked him up, checked his diaper, patted his back.  He burrowed into my neck and made snorting noises.  Figuring he might be hungry, I headed to the fridge to find one of the bottles that Truly had made up for him. 

As soon as Jacob got a glimpse of the bottle he grabbed at it excitedly. I paused in front of the open fridge, watching the kid sucking away happily on the bottle I held to his mouth. I tried to remember something Truly had said about using some object called a bottle warmer.  But a quick scan of the kitchen revealed nothing that looked like it was designed to warm bottles so I shrugged and gave up.  Anyway, Jacob seemed happy enough with his prize so it must be okay. 

Back in the living room, I settled on the couch with the baby on my lap.   Jacob’s dark eyes studied me as he clutched his bottle.  He had Mia’s nose and mouth but his eyes and curly black hair must have come from the father he would never know.  Mia had said very little about the man who’d fathered her child.  Apparently they’d been together for over a year and his death had been a brutal shock. 

“Rotten deal, kid,” I muttered, more to myself than to Jacob.  “Rotten deal.” 

I gathered the baby more closely to my chest, feeling protective of this helpless little person.  Sometimes I doubted whether I had all the right stuff to be a good father.  Maybe I would be too stern, not loving enough.  Kids needed to know they were loved.  They needed the balance of tender playfulness and strength.  Fatherhood had come naturally to Cordero and I was sure that if Chase ever had a child he’d be an outstanding dad.  But sometimes in my dark moments I wasn’t sure if the same could be said about me.  It wasn’t something I talked about, not even to Truly. 

Jacob finished the contents of the bottle and immediately his eyelids began fluttering.  Before I even set the empty bottle on the coffee table he was asleep.  I thought there was a good chance he wouldn’t stay that way if I tried to move him and anyway I kind of enjoyed the heavy feeling of his sleeping body in my arms.  I ran my finger lightly across his dimpled hand and figured maybe I could adapt to this dad stuff more easily than I thought. 

Spying the remote on the end of the couch I flicked the television on although I kept it on mute, ending up with one of those house hunting shows where some irritating couple bickers over countertops.  I was glad I couldn’t hear them. 

When Truly softly opened the front door, Jacob was still lights out, snoring faintly.  I saw the look of surprise cross her face as she took in the scene of the two of us snuggled up together.  Then she broke into an enchanted smile. 

I put my finger to my lips. 

Truly set her purse down and shut the door.  “Mia?” she mouthed. 

I shook my head. 

Jacob might have received some subconscious message that we were discussing his mother because he jerked, opened his eyes and then let out a wail. 

“Hey now,” I soothed, moving him to my shoulder, a move he thanked me for by opening his mouth and unloading a few ounces of curdled baby formula. 

“Stay right there,” fussed Truly, running to the kitchen for some paper towels.  

The baby was in a full state of unhappiness.  He cried and unleashed more liquid from his mouth while I tried to avoid getting the brunt of the spray. 

Truly held out her arms to take Jacob and I handed him right over. 

“Oh honey,” she cried, not even caring that her shoulder was getting covered with baby vomit.  “Shush, sweetheart.  Auntie Tru is here.” 

While I mopped up the vomit that had landed on my shirt and started seeing to the mess on the couch, Truly patted the baby’s back and he let out a colossal belch. 

“Did you feed him?” Truly asked me. 

I balled the wet paper towels together.  “Yeah, I fed him,” I said, pointing to the empty bottle that was still sitting on the coffee table.  “He sucked back that whole damn thing and then passed out.” 

“And you burped him?”

Fuck. 

“Uh, no.”

It had been on her list of very pointed instructions but I hadn’t remembered. 

“It’s all right,” whispered Truly and I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or to the baby. 

As I got up to toss all the dirty paper towels in the garbage, I felt a yawn coming on.  It seemed I’d been awake for two days instead of less than four hours. 

“Aren’t you supposed to meet Cord?” called Truly.  

I found her already in full control of the situation, getting Jacob all cleaned up and changed.  I glanced at my watch. 

“I can stay if you need me.” 

She pushed her hair out of her face and smiled up at me.  “Go.  We’re fine.” 

“You sure?”

“Yes.” 

I wasn’t too broken up about getting outside where there wasn’t any puke or shit that was calling my name.  I gave my wife a kiss, tickled Jacob under his chin and ran out of there. 

As I navigated the streets of Tempe I wondered how the hell my truck had come to smell like vomit and baby powder.  Jacob hadn’t even been in here.   I shook my head and figured my senses were just working in overdrive.  I wondered what Cord would think of the whole thing.  I turned into the parking lot of Scratch and cut the engine, figuring I would find out in just a few minutes.   

CHASE

Camp was only a half-day today but I’d completely forgotten until Bastian came around and told me to wrap up the mixed media project the kids were working on. 

“Let’s pack it in,” I announced to the busy room.  “You know the drill.  Materials stored in the cabinet and please leave the place how you found it.  We’ll pick it back up on Monday.” 

“No we won’t,” called a voice from the back. 

I closed the lid on some red paint.  “You got better plans, Arun?” 

“Course I do, Mr. Gentry.  Gonna go watch fireworks at Tempe Town Lake and eat six pounds of red meat.”

“Ah, Fourth of July.  I forgot.” 

Indeed I had also forgotten the reason for the camp’s half day.  It was the kickoff to a three-day weekend honoring the unique American holiday famous for noise, flashing lights and artery-choking junk food. 

The kids were full of restless energy, eager to spill out into the searing Phoenix heat and start the weekend.  I didn’t scold them when they threw their materials haphazardly into the cabinet and floated out of there.  I had plenty of time to rearrange it all. 

Bastian poked his head inside the room as I was organizing the shelves. 

“You heading out soon, Chase?” 

I didn’t turn around.  “Few minutes.” 

“Something wrong?”

I forced myself to smile and waved him away.  “Nah, everything’s great.  You have a good weekend.” 

Bastian nodded.  “You too, man.  We’ll be back on Tuesday.  We’ll meet here as usual and then head over to the Science Center.” 

“Sounds good.” 

Once Bastian had retreated I returned to my cabinet organization project.  The long afternoon loomed ahead but I couldn’t think of a damn thing worth doing.  Steph had told me this morning that she expected she’d be stuck at work well into the evening.  Some kind of quarterly budget crap.  We’d said our stiff goodbyes and then went our separate ways for the day.  I knew by the time she got home tonight she’d be too weary to talk, which might not be a bad thing because it seemed every serious discussion as of late had a way of going south.  It didn’t take much mind scrolling to recall the moment everything changed. 

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Jesus, Chase.  Yes, I’m sure.”

“Well okay then, we’ll get married.” 

It was not at all how I pictured things would go when I proposed to Stephanie.  Actually I’d never come up with a solid plan for how the grand event would happen but it should have been a damn bit better than blurting out my intentions on the futon with my spent dick hanging out of my pants. 

Stephanie had looked at me for a long moment before absently nodding and then climbed out of my lap to go find her shirt.  Then she ran into the bathroom and threw up. 

I closed the supply cabinet and brushed my hand over the smooth metal surface.  Once upon a time I’d been brimming with insincere charm.  I’d known how to say the right words to get into any pair of panties I wanted.  But I was a long way from the guy who would pluck a willing girl out of a college party and nudge her mouth toward my dick without giving a damn about who she was. 

Goddamn, I was an asshole. 

Those days ended the minute I got my hands on Stephanie.  She was the only girl for me.  So why the hell was it so tough for us to step into the pages of our happily ever after? 

Maybe she doesn’t want to. 

A gruesome thought.  A terrifying thought. The kind of thought that made me remember that there was shit a guy could swallow if he wanted to numb a rush of mental anguish.  It had been years since I’d been tempted by the drugs that ran my life for a while.  I wasn’t even tempted now.  Even the idea made me queasy.  Back when I was still thick in the struggle between compulsion and conscience, a rehab counselor had told me I had an addictive personality, that my inner battles would always be waged more intensely.  So far I’d won.  I planned to keep winning. 

Somewhere in a distant corridor of the library a child laughed.  I took a deep breath to banish the sense of gloom and doom that threatened to erupt.  Brooding in an empty room was the most depressing way I could think of to spend my time so I locked up the cabinets and hustled out of there. 

The library was fairly crowded for a Friday afternoon, but that might be because it was a relaxing place to suck up free air conditioning in the middle of the stifling city.  As I rounded a corner I caught a glimpse of the homeless fellow I’d seen out front several times.  He sat quietly on a corner bench and paged carefully through a large book with glossy photographs of outer space. 

Maybe he felt the weight of my stare because he looked up and a flash of worry crossed his face.  He was probably used to being booted out of places for loitering.  He needn’t worry, not about me anyway.  I would never deprive a man of a comfortable spot to sit and read.  I gave him a short nod of recognition and then kept walking. 

The instant I pushed my way through the glass exit doors I felt the heat on my skin.  The only thing that might be more punishing than summer in Phoenix would be summer in the outlying desert where there was never enough shade, never enough water.  I knew all about it.  So would anyone who had ever spent a July afternoon in Emblem. 

“If Hell has a back pocket then that place would be Emblem.”
 

I’d read that line years ago.  It was printed in a school history book, a direct quote from some unhappy eastern woman who’d followed her merchant husband out west to the territorial capitol over a hundred years earlier.   If she were still around to take a look at the den of Benton Gentry then she’d probably think to herself that the words still applied. 

As I made my way to the parking lot I looked at the city skyline and picked out the high rise where Stephanie worked.  Briefly I weighed the idea of dropping in there spontaneously.  I could sweep her into my arms and carry her out the door like that old Richard Gere movie.  

But then I remembered how she’d rubbed her eyes this morning and mentioned the busy day ahead.  She probably didn’t want to be carried out the door while wearing my hat like the couple in the movie.  That was probably just as well.  Especially because I wasn’t even wearing a fucking hat. 

Traffic was still light on the freeway that meandered east of Phoenix.  In another few hours the whole metro area would be heading home in anticipation of the long weekend. I wasn’t excited about sitting alone in my apartment all afternoon so I thought about alternatives.  Cord would be working down at the shop but he had his hands full with Deck gone and probably wasn’t available to shoot the shit. As for Creed, he tended to spend his afternoons at the gym or hugging his guitar so I didn’t really want to bother him. 

But there was one door I could always knock on and count on a happy greeting.  Fifteen minutes later I stood there and gave a series of short raps on the thick wood.  A wrought iron cursive G hung right in the center.  When a shadow darkened the peephole I waved. 

“Chase!”  Saylor opened the door wide and held out her arms. I returned the hug. Saylor McCann Gentry was more than my brother’s wife.  She was my friend, one of the best friends I would ever have.

“Uncle Chase! Uncle Chase!” 

Two squealing tornadoes – one blonde, one brunette – came barreling down the hall and collided with my legs.  I hoisted each of the girls up in one arm and felt their arms curl around my neck. 

“Ah, my two favorite nieces.  You girls giving hell to your old Mom and Dad?”

“That’s a bad word,” Cami scolded with a frown. 

“Your face hurts,” complained Cassie as she touched my cheek. 

I swung them down to the floor.  “Sorry, sweets.  Uncle Chase forgot to shave today.” 

Cassie nodded forgivingly.  “That’s okay.” 

Cami pulled at my arm.  “Come see my room.”

Cassie pulled at my other arm.  “Yeah, come on!” 

“Hold on girls,” laughed Saylor.  “Let Uncle Chase get through the door.” 

Cami peered around me.  “He
is
through the door.” 

“I am through the door,” I agreed and winked at the girls, allowing them to propel me down the hall to the bedroom which looked like the belly of a cotton candy machine.  Once I got there all kinds of orders followed. 

“Sit here, Uncle Chase.” 

“No, sit here, Uncle Chase!” 

“Hold Miss Happy, Uncle Chase.” 

“You need a magic wand, Uncle Chase.” 

“Uncle Chase, you’re holding Miss Happy too hard.” 

Saylor stood in the doorway and cleared her throat.  “Let me know when you need a break, Uncle Chase.” 

The girls unleashed a torrent of exuberant chatter and proceeded to show me every single object in their bedroom.  They had my complete attention and were so damn cute it killed me. I loved them like crazy.  The first time I saw them in Saylor’s hospital room, hours after they were born, the sight of them was so surreal.  Here were these precious little girls, brand new people where there hadn’t been people before.  Such a basic concept and yet so astonishing. 

I carefully set Cassie’s stuffed hedgehog down and leaned forward.  “Hey girls, I’ve got to go talk to your Mom for a few minutes, okay?”

Cami pouted slightly.  “Don’t leave.” 

I stood up and patted their heads.  “I’ll be back. I promise.”  

Saylor was in the kitchen, frowning over a stack of paper with a ballpoint pen hanging out of her mouth. 

“Editing,” she explained, dropping the pen.  “I’m supposed to release the damn book in two weeks and it just seems like something’s not hanging together.” 

I sank into a chair.  “You want a second opinion?”

She instantly looked hopeful.  “If you’re sure you have time.”   I’d edited several of her books before.  She was a talented writer. 

“I have time.  Email me the rough draft.” 

Saylor smiled and then started filling a cast iron kettle with water.  “I’m on a hot tea kick lately.  You want some?”

“Hot tea?  It’s about a hundred and thirty seven degrees outside, Say.” 

“Well, we’re not outside.” 

“Good point. Sure, I’ll take a cup.” 

Saylor set the kettle on the stove and turned the dial.  She spooned something that looked like shriveled raspberries mixed with dried grass into a container, set out a pair of green ceramic mugs and then joined me at the table. 

“So,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice, “what’s eating at you, little brother?”

I felt a smile cross my face.  The boys had always cheerfully teased me about the fact that I was the last one to be pulled from our mother’s belly the night we were born.  Junior.  Little brother.  Words always said with affection.  I liked hearing them from her. 

“Nothing that can’t be cured by a few days of sitting by the pool eating hamburgers and watching fireworks.” 

Saylor wasn’t fooled by my easy tone. She drummed her fingers on the table and raised her eyebrows. “How is Steph?” she asked pointedly. 

“Pregnant.” 

Her mouth fell open.  “What?  Cord didn’t tell me.” 

“I didn’t tell Cord.” 

She gave me a puzzled look.  “I don’t understand.” 

“Well Saylor, when a man and woman get together in a private way-“

“Chase.”  She narrowed her eyes. “Seriously.” 

“I am being serious.  When a man and woman get together a beautiful thing happens which can result in the creation of a brand new life-“

“Knock it off.” Saylor balled up a nearby napkin and threw it at me. 

“Okay, but if you ever require further elaboration, remember I do have my full teaching credentials from the state of Arizona.” 

“If I remember correctly, those credentials entitle you to teach history.”

“And if people didn’t keep procreating then there wouldn’t be any history to discuss, now would there?”

Saylor suddenly beamed at me, laughing.  “This is exciting! I can’t believe it!” 

“You thought Cordero was the only Gentry brother who possessed sperm? I’m insulted.”

“Enough with the creative quips there, junior.  I just didn’t realize you guys were looking to join us in the minivan set.” 

When I stayed silent Saylor bit her lip and cocked her head to the side. 

“Oh,” she said quietly.  “It was a surprise then, huh?” 

“Just a tiny electric lightening bolt to my central nervous system,” I admitted.  “Shouldn’t have been.  We weren’t careful and I do know where babies come from.  Yet somehow the news managed to shock me.”

“Hmm, I know the feeling,” said Saylor with a jerk of her head.  Girlish squealing erupted down the hall.  “What’s going on in there?” she called. 

“Nothing!” answered two sweet voices. 

“Precocious little things,” I observed. 

“That they are.” 

“Take after their devoted uncle.” 

“That they do.” 

The tea kettle began whistling.  Saylor jumped up and carefully poured the hot water into the container she’d deposited the fragrant leaves into before she sat down.