To Have It All(18)
Pimberly wailed loudly as the elevator doors closed. Still patting her back, I began humming as I carried her back to the apartment. What in the hell are you going to do, Liam?
As it often happened in life, my sneak attack on Max didn’t go as planned. I was convinced he’d sign the papers right then and there. Damn. Damn. Damn. I just left my daughter with a stranger—at least to her, anyway—who happens to be her father and wants no part of her life.
“And mother of the year goes to . . . Waverly Torres,” I said to myself in my best imitation of an announcers voice. The people waiting for the elevator as I climbed off gave me a strange look having just witnessed me talking to myself like a nut job.
Ugh! I hated Max. Why? Why was he doing this? Why wouldn’t he just sign the damn papers? Climbing back in the Taxi that brought Pimberly and me, which was a fortune, I instructed the driver to take me to school wondering if I shouldn’t go back right now and get her. What if something happened to her? What if he got busy doing something and she fell and hit her head?
Shit. I had to go back.
My cell phone rang, and I quickly yanked it from my purse, positive it was Max already throwing in the towel, begging me to come back and save him from parenting our child. Instead, Matt lit up on the screen, and I twisted my mouth, unsure if I wanted to answer. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. I’d left him a note on the kitchen counter that morning explaining my plan because I knew if I told him face to face he’d probably kidnap Pim and run away with her to stop me. He was a very protective uncle that way.
“Hel—”
“Are you at his place yet?” he interrupted. “I’m on my way to get both of you. What in the hell are you thinking, Waverly?”
“Matt,” I paused unsure of how to defend myself. He was right. I was fucking nuts for concocting this plan, and on top of it, it backfired. He took her without a fight. I reminded myself that I knew Max. I knew he would fold; he would be so overwhelmed he’d be begging me to come back any minute, and he’d have those papers signed, waiting for me when I got there. Putting Pimberly in this situation is what was most wrong—deep down I knew that. Max may have been the king of deadbeat dads, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He was an asshole, not a monster. She’d survive a few hours with him.
So, inhaling deeply, I prepared for the backlash that was coming from Matt. “She’s already there,” I explained calmly. “I need you to trust me.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he boomed. His voice was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “I trust you. Although,” he snorted, “this move today definitely makes me question your sanity, but it’s him I don’t trust. Where is she? I’ll pick her up now.”
“Matt,” I said, my voice firm as I clutched my cell phone a little tighter. “Let her be. I’m her mother, and this is my decision.”
The phone was silent for a long moment until finally, he replied, “And I’m just what, nobody? Haven’t I been a parent to that little girl? I don’t get to be a part of the decisions that affect her?”
My heart dropped to my stomach. I’d hurt his feelings and offended him in one fell swoop. I could now add sister of the year to my mother of the year title.
“That’s not what I meant,” I pleaded. “Of course you do. But you have to trust me.”
“Whatever, Waverly. I just hope you don’t get that little girl caught up in his bullshit. Do you really want to set yourself up to be rejected by him again?”
When he hung up, I stared down at my phone wanting to call him back, but the car stopped in front of my building and I’d already taken this leap. Now, I needed to see it through. My plan would work. Maybe not as quickly as I had originally thought, but it would. I was positive it would. Max would sign the papers.
Paying the driver, I climbed out. “It’s just one day, Waverly. One day,” I told myself.
She’d been crying for twenty minutes. TWENTY LONG, EXCRUCIATING MINUTES. I was pretty sure my brain was on the verge of melting to mush. I’d made silly faces, bounced her on my knee, pulled out all three hundred of her toys Waverly packed, but nothing worked.
Panicking, I pulled out my cell and called Helen. She said she’d be there in an hour. So what the hell did I do in the meantime? In desperation, I pulled up the internet on Max’s phone. Maybe a YouTube video would distract her? What the hell were kids watching now?
“Do you like motorcycles, Pim?” I asked her in a sing-song voice. I pulled up a video of two sports bikes racing at the drag strip. As soon as the engines revved, her crying ebbed as she stared at the small phone screen, tilting her head in curiosity.
“You like bikes?” I chuckled, grinning widely. “You’re pretty awesome, kid.”
After five bike videos, the doorbell rang, and I sighed with relief. Helen to my rescue.
Opening the door, I said, “Thank yo—”
A blur of red hair was all I saw as Hel flew past me, without so much as a hello, Helen rushed into the living room where Pim was seated on the couch, still holding my phone. I’d pulled the coffee table away from the couch and placed pillows and blankets all around it. The kid seemed to be able to sit up well, but the last thing I needed was for her to face-plant on the floor.