Some Days

“Hey, anybody home?”

I looked up, tearing my eyes away from the cartoon Regan was watching on TV, and saw Garrett strolling in through the front door. He smiled when he saw us, sitting on opposite ends of the couch. I smiled, too.

“Gary!” Regan screeched, eyes wide with excitement.

Garrett laughed and plopped down on Regan’s end of the couch, leaning over to the armrest, squishing her into the cushions. “Sup kiddo?” he mused over her loud fit of giggles and protests. “What’s that? I can’t hear you.”

“Let my baby breathe, Gar,” I laughed softly.

Garrett looked at me, as if he had just realized I was even there, and grinned. He leaned over, laying on his back in the space between Regan and myself, and placed his head in my lap. His legs were draped across Regan’s lap, holding her in place. I ran my fingers through his hair, pushing the strands away from his forehead.

“Hi, beautiful,” he said softly, looking directly up at me.

My cheeks reddened. “Hush.”

He shook his head slightly, leaned up, twisting into me, and pressed his lips against mine. My cheeks flushed an even deeper red, knowing Regan was watching the exchange.

She had never seen me kiss anyone – simply because there had never been anyone to kiss – and so she had never questioned the act. She had always heard about her friends’ parents kissing and I wondered if she ever thought it was an act that only occurred between mother and father. She knew, however, that Garrett wasn’t her father and I was afraid she would question the idea of me kissing anyone that wasn’t him.

“My turn!” she announced, crawling on top of Garrett.

Garrett laughed and kissed the tip of her nose, eliciting a sharp giggle from her mouth. She cuddled into his chest as he laid his head in my lap again. My fingers absently wove into his hair again. The house fell into silence, except for the comical banter from the cartoon, until Mrs. Nickelsen opened the front door, shuffled inside with her hands full.

“My son is just so helpful,” she said, a slight air of annoyance in her tone as she used her foot to push the door shut behind her.

I looked down at Garrett, who looked sheepishly at his mother. “You left your mom outside?”

“He always does lately,” she responded, setting a few things down in the living room. She paused when she noticed the three of us lying together and at first I could have sworn a look of worry would cross her face. Rather, she smiled, her eyes shining with happiness. But then she remembered how Garrett had abandoned her outside and set her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

Regan gave Garrett a little push. “Help your mommy, Gary.”

“Okay, okay. Save my spot,” he said to Regan, then rolled off the couch and stumbled over to his mom.

I watched as he grabbed the things she had set down and carried them upstairs to my mother’s room. Mrs. Nickelsen, however, didn’t make a move to follow him. I sucked my lip between my teeth and bit down. Her eyes were filled with motherly concern, something I had mirrored many times before. And when her shoulders slumped, I knew what she was feeling.

“Mrs. Nickelsen-”

She held her hand up to stop me. “I know you know what I’m going to say, so I won’t say it.”

She walked over to the couch and sat next to me, cradling Regan in her lap. She took a moment to smile at Regan and play with her hair before she looked at me again. “Sweetie,” she said softly, a slight hint of sadness in her tone. “The boys leave again in two weeks. I would never stop you from starting anything with my baby, but I want to make sure you understand what that entails. They leave for months at a time.”

“I know,” I said, although I didn’t quite know the same way that she did. “I’m in this weird spot, you know? Either way, I’ll be without someone for a majority of the year.”

She smiled sadly, placed a hand on my knee and squeezed. “You’ll make the right choice.”

I nodded slowly, turning her words over in my head. I was torn in multiple directions and it kept becoming more and more appealing to just go home to Chicago and act as if this trip had never happened. Mrs. Nickelsen lifted Regan from her lap, depositing her onto mine, and stood.

“What would you do?” I asked her suddenly, which startled her. Her shoulders tensed slightly, as if she were afraid I would ask her that question.

She looked at me, then, and for the first time I saw her frown. “I would look at the whole picture first. Think about why you left and if it’s possible to fix those reasons. If not, then I would consider looking at moving on.”

I swallowed hard, pressing my lips together in a tight, straight line. Garrett’s copper hair came into view as he peeked around the corner, peering into the living room. “Mom? You coming?”

She looked over her shoulder at her son, then back at me. “That’s just what I would do. But it’s not my choice, Nolan.”

“Right,” I said, barely able to nod my head. I lifted my eyes to meet hers. “Thank you.”

Garrett eyed us, cautiously stepping down from the last stair. Mrs. Nickelsen gently placed her hand on his shoulder as she passed and then disappeared up the steps. He tilted his head, confused, and stole a glance at his mom before his eyes settled on me.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, now walking over to the couch.

I shook my head, stood up and carried Regan into our bedroom. Of course, he followed. I set Regan down on the bed, pulled the covers back, and tucked her in. “Take a nap, okay baby? If you need anything, Mommy’s going to be at the kitchen table.”

Regan nodded, suddenly sleepy. Garrett looked at me, wondering how I knew she had needed a nap, no doubt. I didn’t meet his gaze. He followed me out of the bedroom and stared at me as I closed the door behind us.

“What just happened?” he asked again. “Did my mom say something to you?”

I hated the worry and panic in his voice. Biting my lip, I began to walk away. His hand wrapped around mine and he tugged me back in front of him.

“Nolan,” he pleaded.

“You can’t kiss me in front of Regan,” I told him. “You can’t. You can’t be like that with me in front of her. Who knows what she’s feeling or thinking. I just – I just uprooted her from Chicago, without any rhyme or reason. And after five years of not knowing any better, I introduced her to the man she can rightfully call her father. I can’t allow you to mess that up. I can’t let myself do that to her.”

“So this is about John,” he concluded.

I blinked several times. His tone was unreadable and his expressions had softened to the point where it was indecipherable. I had no idea if he was sour over the things I had just said to him, or if he was actually questioning who this protection was for. “It’s about Regan. It’s always going to be about Regan.”

“What if we just talk to her, then?” Garrett suggested. “She’s a smart girl, Nolan. She’ll be able to grasp some small concept of what’s happening, even if we don’t talk to her. She’s like John in that aspect. She just knows things.”

“What I’m saying is that we need to figure ourselves out. And according to your mom, we have less than two weeks,” I replied. By the look in his eyes, I knew he hadn’t expected to hear this from me. “I’m not going to tell my daughter any other life-altering news until I know exactly what’s happening. And I’m sorry, honestly sorry, that it involves putting John first.”

“So we’re done before we even started?” he asked, confused and hurt.

I placed my hands on the sides of his face and kissed him. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me close to him, our hips and chests pressed flush together. I pulled away to catch my breath but he didn’t allow it, crushing his lips back against mine. One of my hands slid around his neck, fingers tangling in the short hair at the nape of his neck. His teeth sunk into my lower lip and I tightened my grip on his hair.

“Fuck,” he breathed, resting his forehead against mine. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, Nolan Greeley.”

I looked into his gorgeous blue eyes and couldn’t help the frown from appearing. “Don’t say that yet.”

His opportunity to respond was interrupted when my phone rang. I would have ignored it if it had been anyone else, but the number on the screen was so familiar it caused my heart to lurch into my throat. “Did you give him this number?” I asked Garrett.

He looked panicked, terrified even. “I swear to God,” he said.

I gritted my teeth and inhaled before answering. “Hello?”

“I didn’t expect you to actually answer,” he said, evidently caught off guard. When I remained silent, I could tell he was wondering if I had hung up. “I- I was just wondering – hoping, really – if I could see Regan today.”

“I just put her down for a nap,” I explained shortly.

“Oh,” he said softly, dejectedly.

Hearing his tone reminded me of Mrs. Nickelen’s words, and I felt bad. I felt horrible. I had to be able to figure out my past first and that meant giving John as much of a chance as I could manage. “Are you going to be home today?”

“All day,” he said, perking up at the prospect of possibly being able to see Regan after all.

I looked at Garrett then down at my feet. “We’ll stop by whenever she wakes up.”

After thanking me multiple times, we both hung up. Garrett was looking at me, his expressions still a blur. After a few seconds of not being able to understand what he was feeling, his eyes twinkled and his lips twitched upward slightly. “I get that John comes first, but I don’t want you to forget me.”

I laughed softly and playfully rolled my eyes, placing a gentle kiss against his lips. “I won’t. And to prove that, you can take me to dinner tomorrow night, okay?”

Garrett grinned now. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

“Mommy!” Regan whined.

I sighed. Of course. Garrett laughed at my annoyance, until he heard his mother calling for him from upstairs. It was my turn to laugh now, and I poked him in the ribs.

“Tomorrow night,” I promised.

Garrett nodded and quickly kissed me once more before hurrying upstairs. When I walked into my room, I saw Regan sitting up in bed. “What’s up, babycakes?” I asked, sitting on the edge.

“Can’t sleep,” she responded sweetly.

I pursed my lips, eliciting a giggle from her. “John invited us over to his house today.”

“I do like John,” she said and nodded in approval. “We can go?”

I pretended to weigh the options, as if we had so many other obligations to tend to. “I suppose,” I finally told her. “As long as you promise you aren’t sleepy.”

She hopped up, curling her hands into fists and pressing them against her hips. She puffed her chest out like a superhero. “I’m not sleepy!”

“Alright, silly goose,” I laughed as I stood up and scooped her into my arms. “Do you like this outfit or do you want to change?”

She looked down at our outfits, then shrugged. “This is good. I want to see John fast.”

After saying goodbye to everyone, we went outside and settled into the car. With the AC blasting, I took my time driving through our connecting neighborhoods. I suddenly felt nervous about seeing John and allowing him to get to know Regan. I didn’t know what I was afraid of but there was fluttering in my stomach that wouldn’t go away.

“Is he home?” Regan chirped from the backseat as we slowed in front of a house.

Parking at the curb, I looked over my shoulder. “You see that white truck?” Regan strained to see out the window, but when she spotted the truck she nodded enthusiastically. “That’s John’s,” I told her. “He’s had it since we were kids.”

“Wow,” Regan said softly. “That’s a long time.”

I made a face at her. “Girl, how old do you think I am?”

Regan giggled loudly, kicking her feet in amusement. “Mommy! You are not old. You are pretty.”

“Much better,” I laughed, turning the ignition and dropping my keys into my bag. I got Regan out of her carseat and headed up to the front door. Regan rang the doorbell multiple times, impatient.

When John opened the door, annoyed and clearly confused, Regan reached out for him. His face lit up when he saw us standing there and gently lifted her from my arms. I followed him inside, kicking the door shut on the way. He asked Regan about her day and what she felt like doing, and walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

I absently followed. I knew Regan took after John in the way that she instantly knew if someone was ‘good’ or ‘bad’ or if she could trust them. It just never occurred to me how strong of a bond she could create with someone she had never met before, related or not. I suppose it was only a shock because she didn’t act this way with my dad. I figured the doting grandfather figure would be enough to win her over, but she wanted little to do with him. She wasn’t interested in being won over. And John didn’t try to do that with her.

“Mom said you were sleeping,” John was saying, setting her down on his unkempt bed. She stood there as he wandered across the room to lower the volume on his record player.

“What’s that?” she asked, lowered herself and crossed her legs neatly under her.

“This?” John asked, pointing at the record player. Regan nodded. I dropped my bag by the door and sank into the chair by John’s desk. His eyes shot over to my figure, as if just acknowledging me. His eyes went back to Regan’s little form, swallowed up in his duvet now. “Your mom doesn’t play records for you?”

Regan shrugged, her shoulders framing her cheeks. “I left it behind,” I explained to John.

John looked as if I had slapped him and I rolled my eyes. His love for anything vinyl really astounded me. “This is a record player,” he told Regan. She nodded enthusiastically, appreciating this lesson. He held up a record. “This is a record. It has music carved into it, in long circles. The needle on the record player reads the music.”

“Cool!” she exclaimed, carefully taking the record from him when he offered it to her. Her little fingers explored the grooves, then her eyes slid over to me. “Mommy, can we get one?”

“We actually have one already, baby,” I told her. “It’s in the attic. I can get it down tonight, if you want me to.”

“Oh yes!” she exclaimed again. “Do we have music?”

“I have more than John does,” I said, and laughed when John scoffed.

John took the record back from Regan and headed over to his collection. It had grown in the past five years, no doubt exceeding mine now. “Mommy used to have the best collection,” John said, sifting through the records and placing that one back in its spot. “But mine is so much cooler now.”

Regan giggled. Her eyes wandered around his room, scanning everything and drinking it all in. He lived in a much messier state than we did. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at something behind me.

John and I both looked at what she was pointing to. It was a small jar with a screw-on lid. It contained little paper stars, most of the colors now faded. I looked at John, who was trying his best not to frown. It had been our thing way back when.

“Remember I taught you to make necklaces out of gum wrappers?” I said to Regan. She nodded and carefully climbed off the bed. She wandered over to me, climbed up my legs into my lap, and reached behind me for the jar. She sat there for a moment, simply examining the jar and its contents. “That’s kinda like what those are.”

“Pretty,” Regan commented. She slid off my lap and crawled her way back up into John’s bed. He had taken a seat on the bed, in the far corner where I once slept.

When Regan laid down, her head against his pillow and the jar held above her still turning it and looking at all of the different colored stars, John laid down next to her. She then cuddled into his side. He smiled and placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Do you know about Mommy’s heart?”

Regan looked at him. She nodded slowly. I had told her, briefly, about my condition. Seeing as she was so young, I only told her to call the ambulance if I ever “fell asleep and didn’t wake up right away.”

“Your mommy started making those out of her hospital bracelets,” John explained. “Each time she would come home, she would make a new star.”

“How do you even make those?” John asked.

“Have you ever made a chain out of your gum wrappers?” I asked in reply.

He made a face, holding me closer as I continued to fold. “That’s what girls do.”

I chuckled. “Well, it’s the same concept.”

He watched in silence as I finished the star. When I was nearing completion, he reached up to his windowsill and grabbed the jar down. He turned it in his fingers, the stars clinking against the glass container.

“I can’t believe you’ve been to the hospital so many times,” he said breathlessly. “It’s so scary.”

I shrugged. “Not really. Most of those stars are from routine tests and checkups, not admittances.”

He kissed my forehead. “I still don’t like how many there are in here.”

I nodded. I didn’t particularly like how many were in there, either, but it was my life. I had to go to the hospital frequently, there was no getting around it anymore. “At least you heard what they said today. I’m getting stronger.”

John rolled his eyes at my optimism. I dropped the new star into the jar and stared at it among the others. Each one represented hope and faith. They each represented another success story: I had made it one more day. My heart wasn’t a time bomb waiting to go off, by any means, but it also wasn’t a condition I could take lightly. One wrong step, one push too many, one particularly bad fall, and it could mean serious consequences.

John’s lips melted against mine, pulling me from my thoughts. “I love you.”

I smiled, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him again. “I love you forever.”