Page 10 of Power Play

four

. . .

Riley

When I made my way to the townhouse this morning, I had every intention of letting Emmy go. I didn’t want to, but I knew she didn’t belong to me. Now, though… I get to stay in her life. She’s not going anywhere.

The store delivered the crib midafternoon, and I laid her down for the night a few hours ago. Al watched as I read her a few books from the diaper bag, wrapped her in her sleep sack, and rubbed her back until she fell asleep.

He hovered.

All day long, he’s been letting me take the lead, his watchful gaze trained on me as if memorizing what to do. We started introducing solid foods in the last two weeks, right before everything went to shit, so he got to feed her a mashed banana with her evening bottle.

The more time they spend together, the more she warms up to him. And I wish I could say the same, but I don’t trust that he won’t change his mind and throw me out. He’d be well within his rights.

I lie in the guest room bed, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling.

Am I really doing this? Am I actually going to move cross-country, give up my job, my apartment, my independence, and become his nanny?

But when I think about what Carter would say if I abandoned her daughter with a virtual stranger… I know I have to. It doesn’t matter that Al is Emmy’s father. She’s my family, too. Hell, she’s all the family I’ve got.

Tears well in my eyes and I roll over to bury my face in my pillow. It was always supposed to be me and Carter, the two of us against the world. Now that she’s not here, I don’t know how I’m supposed to face it. How do I charge into battle without her beside me? How do I navigate life without my best friend?

I choke back a sob, the sound muffled by the pillow. It was supposed to be me who went first. I’m nobody, no one. She had a daughter. She had a purpose. I… don’t.

A tentative knock sounds on my door.

“Riley?” Al asks through the solid wood. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I call back. “Have a good night.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “If you need to, like, talk or something…”

“I’m good.” A few stray tears escape my eyelashes, trailing down my face, and I hurry to wipe them with the back of my hand. “I’m fine.”

Silence stretches on the other side.

“Okay,” he finally says, before his footsteps recede. His steps are heavy as he thumps down the stairs.

I cry silently for a few minutes, letting myself feel all the emotions filtering through me. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach doesn’t go away, though.

Rolling over again, I try to push it from my mind and focus on nothingness.

But the negative thoughts keep flooding back. Maybe a glass of water will help. Throwing the covers off me, I climb off the bed and open my bedroom door. There’s no sound coming from Emmy’s room, and Al’s door is wide open, his room dark.

Light shines from downstairs, providing a warm glow in the stairwell as I pad down to the main floor.

Al is sitting on the floor, with a beer beside his knee while he puts together a bouncer. Plastic pieces surround him, strewn across the floor, the instructions crumpled on the carpet. A Grizzlies T-shirt stretches taut against his barrel chest, and his dark hair is tousled like he’s been running his fingers through it.

At the sound of my footsteps, he looks up, his gaze roving over me with frank appreciation on his face. He scratches at his bearded cheek, his eyes dark as they ping between my bare legs and my face.

No. Shut it down, Riley.

“Can’t sleep?” he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

I’m hyperaware of my mismatching sleep shorts and the oversized T-shirt I wore to bed. My nipples pebble under his inspection, and I cross my arms over my chest to hide the reaction.

“Never been able to sleep well in new places.” The side effect of being a foster kid, never knowing how long I’d stay in one place. Just once, I’d like to be able to put down roots. Find a place I can call my home. I almost thought I had it in Arizona, but I guess that’s changing, too.