Sugar Rush

  I sigh. “She tell you she’s got a family?” Ceecee nods. “And I’m guessing she wasn’t as excited to see you as you were to see her.” Ceecee shakes her head softly. I ball my hands into fists to spot myself from losing my shit. “You don’t need her, baby. You never did. You got me, and I love you enough for a hundred people.”

  Chin trembling, tears fall from her eyes and she nods in agreement. “I know, Daddy. I love you too.”

  My heart races. I’m close to the breaking point, but I keep my calm enough to ask, “How’d Helena find her? She hire someone? Took me close to a year to track her down.”

  Ceecee looks over at me, confused. “Helena didn’t find her. I did.”

  My body stiffens. “What?” I ask, numb.

  Ceecee wheels herself over to her closet. She opens the door and pulls out…

  My heart beats even faster. My body hums. You have got to be kidding me. As she pulls out the box I’ve kept hidden all her life, I ask on a whisper, “Where’d you find that?”

  Rather than answering the question, she mutters, “Her address was in here. Photos too. I sent her a letter weeks ago asking her to meet me this morning. She sent one back saying she would.” Her eyes find mine. “Helena didn’t know. She thought I was meeting my new friends.” She opens her mouth to speak, but closes it. Finally, she says a hushed, “I didn’t tell anyone.”

  Dread fills me as the realization hits me. Helena didn’t know.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “This is all a big mistake.”

  “You don’t understand, Max. It wasn’t like you think.”

  My heart stop beating altogether. What have I done? I close my eyes, trying to swallow, but my mouth is suddenly as dry as the Sahara Desert.

  Jesus fucking Christ, what have I done?

  “You’re right. She’s not mine. I’m not her mother. But sometimes, I wish I were.”

  I feel the blood drain from my face. My palms sweat.

  “Are you okay, Daddy?” I swallow hard, the pressure in my ears building as she whispers, “I’m sorry, Daddy. So sorry.”

  I turn to my daughter. “I’m fine.” No, I’m not. “As long as you are.”

  Ceecee smiles sadly. “I always thought meeting my mom would be a happy memory.”

  I shake my head and sigh an apologetic, “Cricket.”

  She shrugs. “Helena told me it didn’t matter, that mom didn’t matter.” She smiles a small smile. “She got angry and said all that matters is I have a family who loves me, and Mom isn’t cool enough to join our family, because she has a giant stick up her ass.”

  Helena. Of course she did.

  Our family.

  Our family.

  My stomach turns as my head pounds. I think I might just throw up. I stand and move towards my baby girl, hugging her tight and placing a kiss to her head. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Ceecee straightens and states, “I can’t imagine you with her.” Unknowingly stabbing me in the heart, she mutters, “She’s not like Helena, and I sort of thought she would be. I thought she’d be cool, and funny, and loving.” Her eyes narrow in thought, likely pulling a memory from this morning. “She was just…cold.”

  I rub absently at the pang in my chest. Ceecee looks up at me, grinning. “You should’ve seen Helena yell at Mom. She wasn’t even scared.”

  I’ll bet she wasn’t.

  I clear my throat. “I think maybe we should do Coney Island next week, don’t you think? We’ve already had a lot of excitement for one day. Maybe we can just sit around, watch movies, and eat junk today, yeah?”

  She reaches up and takes my hand. “I’d like that, Daddy.” Stroking her hair, I smile down at her before moving away. As I walk out of her room, she calls out, “Can you call Helena to come too?”

  Somehow, I think she’ll kindly decline. Not that I’d blame her. I’m an asshole. Rather than telling Ceecee that, I call back, “I’ll call her.” And call her, I do.

  But she doesn’t answer.

  Not any of the eighteen times I call.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Helena

  It takes me over an hour of walking for me to realize I have no idea where I am. Luckily, my cell, which rings in my pocket every minute or so, is in my pocket. I call for a cab and wait patiently for it, sitting on the stone fence of a fancy house. A woman comes outside the property, pretending to get the mail, but I see her eyes me good.

  A wave of irritation flows through me, but I squash it. Standing from my sitting position, I turn to the woman and smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sit there. My feet are a little sore.”

  The woman walks over to me. She looks to be in her fifties, with kind eyes. “That’s okay. You sit if you need to, doll.”

  My throat thickens and I choke out, “I’ve been walking a long time.”

  My phone chirps in my pocket. I pull it out.

  Max calling.

  I stare down at the display, devastated.

  The woman steps closer. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  The simple question causes my emotions to erupt. With my phone vibrating in my hand, tears flooding my vision, I sob out, “I’m pretty sure my boyfriend just broke up with me.”

  The woman makes a knowing sound in her throat before taking a seat next to me on the fence. “Ah. Young love.” She pats my hand, her light pink fingernails flawless. “I’m sure it’ll work out. If not, there are plenty of other fish in the sea.”

  Forcing down another sob, I sniffle, “Not like Max, there isn’t.” I look up at her. “He’s it. My sugar rush.”

  My phone chirps again and again, and the woman nods down at the cell in my hands. “Seems like someone’s trying awful hard to get ahold of you.”

  My voice lowered to a hush, I tell her, “I don’t feel much like talking to him right now.”

  She sits by me in silence, her mere presence a pillar of support I hadn’t know I needed, this woman I don’t even know. “You know, when we were younger, my Stan had a knack for saying things in anger. Things he didn’t mean, but things that hurt me regardless.”

  I use my sleeve to wipe at my face, and ask, “What did you do?”

  She smiles at me, her eyes full of wisdom. “I forgave him. Every time.”

  My nose bunches. “I don’t know if I could do that.”

  She shrugs lightly. “You ever said something you wish you didn’t? Something that hurt someone without meaning to?”

  Had I? Yes, I had. More than once. I nod, and she asks, “How did it make you feel?”

  “Like shit,” I whisper.

  She puffs out a small laugh. “Exactly. Now, if your beau, Max, your sugar rush, is feeling like that right now, would you want to make him feel worse about it?”

  I shake my head. “Now I’m not saying to run at him with open arms, honey.” She winks, the string of pearls around her neck gleaming in the sunlight. “Nothing wrong with a little guilt trip. Sometimes, silence is the best punishment a woman can show a man.”

  A cab pulls up in front of the house and we both stand. I turn to her. “Are you and Stan still together?”

  “In my heart, yes.” She smiles sadly. “He passed nine months ago and I miss him dearly.” A sincere look crosses her face. “And I’d give anything to hear his voice again, even if it were those hurtful words, because I’d forgive him again, and again, and again. I guess you could say that Stan was my very own sugar rush.”

  A wise woman. I hold out my hand. “I’m Helena.”

  She smiles sweetly, placing a gentle hand in my own. “I’m Martha Mae. But, please, call me Mae.”

  I squeeze her hand. “Thank you for the talk.”

  As I walk over to the cab, she calls out, “Helena, love isn’t proud.” When I turn, she adds with a light tilt of her head, “Sometimes, you have to put away your pride for the sake of love. But those times, with the right person, are completely worth it. Remember that, honey.”

  Smiling gently, I step into
the cab and relay the address of my apartment. When the cab takes off, Mae waves, smiling back at me. I take in the words of the intelligent woman.

  “Love isn’t proud.”

  ***

  Max

  Nik stares at me hard, his jaw ticking. “Maddy? As in Ceecee’s mom. That Maddy?”

  I nod, nursing my beer. I lift it to my lips and utter, “The very same,” before I sip. When I wasn’t able to get ahold of Helena, I asked Ceecee if she wanted to go play with the girls. Of course, I had ulterior motives. I needed to talk to my brother. I needed advice, and if anyone knows better about how to fix what you’ve fucked up, it’s Nik.

  As Tina, Ceecee, and the little ones laze around on the sofas, watching a kid’s movie, Nik and I sit on the back patio, away from little ears. My brother narrows his brows at me. “Why are you so calm about this?”

  I’m not calm. I’m hurting, real bad, but not as much as I imagine Helena is. “Ceecee met her mom. It’s done. The bitch doesn’t want anything to do with her. I’d bet her family doesn’t even know about Ceecee.” I shake my head. “She was distraught, man. Never seen my baby so upset before.”

  He sips his beer. “I can imagine. I’d have lost my shit.”

  “I did,” I admit. “I said some pretty fuckin’ nasty things to Helena.” I turn to see Nik watching me closely. I utter, “I fucked up.”

  Nik smirks. “Welcome to the club. I was wondering when you’d join us.”

  I glare at him. “Not funny, dude.”

  His smile falls. “You’re right; it isn’t, but it’s probably not that bad. What did you say to her?”

  I breathe deeply, and exhale slowly. “That dating her was a mistake. That she wasn’t Ceecee’s mom. That she had no right to do things she didn’t even do.” I pause a second before I tell him, “She told me she loves me, man. Just last night.”

  Nik remains silent, and I know it’s bad. If it weren’t, he would be teasing me. His non-response tells me how serious this is. How badly I fucked up. After a while, he asks, “You call her?”

  I scoff. “Only thirty times.”

  “You text her?”

  “I am not apologizing to her over a fuckin’ text.” I sip my beer and mutter, “She deserves better than that.”

  “You go over there?”

  I shake my head. “Got Ash to make sure she got home okay.” I tap the side of the bottle. “After he threatened to cut my balls off and feed ‘em to me, he called later and said she got home around two. That was a couple of hours after she left.”

  Nik narrows his eyes at me. “You love her?”

  No hesitation. “With all my heart.”

  He sits up in his chair. “Then why are you here, moping around like a fucking pussy?”

  I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I try again and hate the weak state of my voice, “Because I don’t know how to fix this. What if she doesn’t forgive me?”

  “Women like Helena don’t need grand gestures. I know, because she’s more like Tina than she is like Nat. You want to know how you fix this?” I look up at him and nod once. He rolls his eyes. “You get off your ass, go over there, and make a fuckin’ effort.”

  My gut clenches. “I don’t know.”

  Nik states, “I do.” He pushes at my shoulder, jolting me. “You gonna let her go without a fight?”

  Fuck no.

  I know what I have to do. Not saying another word, I stand and stride over to the door.

  Nik calls out, “’Atta boy, Max. Go get her.”

  ***

  Helena

  “Don’t wanna be…all by myself…” Here it comes. The big one. Mouth full of ice cream, I belt out a garbled, “Anymooorrrrreeee.”

  My phone chirps. Nat calling. I slide the screen and answer around my ice cream, “Yeah, what?”

  Her small chuckle sounds in my ear as she whispers, “Dude, the walls are super thin.”

  Oh. Seems my private performance has unknowingly become a concert. Eyes wide, I whisper back, “Oh. Right. Noted.”

  The amusement now gone from her voice, she asks a careful, “You okay, ho-bag?”

  When I finally got home and Asher was waiting for me, he asked if I wanted him to make Max a permanent soprano. With a smile, I told him no, but kissed his cheek and thanked him for the offer. I asked him not to tell Nat what happened, that I’d tell her when I was ready. He wrapped an arm around me and I walked him to the door.

  He looked like he wanted to say something, but also wanted to keep quiet. After a moment, he blurted out, “Men fuck up. And we do it a lot. Thank God we got women who love us; otherwise, we’d be lonely sacks of shit.” He rolled his eyes and grunted, “I don’t think Max is good enough for you, but that’s not because Max isn’t a good guy. Max is one of the best guys I know. The reason I don’t think he’s good enough for you is the same reason I don’t think I’m good enough for Nat. It’s because you deserve better than the best. I know it’s your choice who you date, but chances are I won’t like any of ‘em. And I’ll like ‘em a whole lot less than I like Max.” Without waiting for a response, he kissed my forehead and went home.

  I smile at the concern in Nat’s voice. “I’m fine. I think I’m just missing home.”

  She hesitates. “You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?”

  “No, I’m not,” I answer, even though I was earlier in the day. I thought about it, but it was a silly thought. “As long as the work is good, this is the place for me.”

  She lets out a humorless laugh. “Thank God. I love having you here. If you went home, I’d be shattered.”

  Wow. Nat never puts herself out there. I’m touched. I smile. “I wouldn’t leave you. Who would keep you out of trouble?”

  She laughs then. “You’re almost as much trouble as I am.”

  “Am not.”

  “Are too.”

  A knock at my door sounds and I roll my eyes at her need to take this argument face-to-face. “Am not times a hundred.”

  I walk over to the door as she says smartly, “Are too times infinity.”

  Shit. What beats infinity?

  Unlatching the door, I pull it open and grin. “Am not!”

  But it’s not Nat. It’s Max.

  My heart races.

  He looks almost as bad as I feel. Nat calls out, “So I’m guessing by your silence that I’ve won this round.”

  I shake my head and speak into the cell, “Sorry, I gotta go. Max is here.”

  She purrs into the phone. “Ah, I get ya.” Then sings, “Let me lick you up and down ‘til you say stop.”

  I fight my hysterical laugh and mumble, “Yeah, like I said, I gotta go.”

  But she ignores me, singing louder, “Let me play with your body, baby, make you real hot.”

  I hang up and swallow hard. “Hi.”

  Max opens his mouth to speak, but Nat is not to be ignored. She shouts through the wall, “Let me do all the things you want me to do.” I cover my mouth with a hand, flushing as she finishes her solo. “’Cause tonight, baby, I wanna get freaky with you.” A moment later, she yells a huffy, “You shut up, ASSer!”

  My face beet red, I bite the insides of my cheeks to stop myself from smiling, and look up at Max to ask quietly, “What are you doing here?”

  He looks down at his feet and crosses his arms over his chest in a most defensive posture. “Can I come in?” He looks up at me then, asking gently, “Please?”

  I push open the door and step aside as he enters, looking awkward and out of place. I close the door behind us and walk into the kitchen. Just because he yelled at me, blaming me for what happened this morning, doesn’t mean I can’t be polite. “Something to drink?” He shakes his head. I open the fridge. He’s always hungry. “Something to eat?’

  He sighs, his brow pinched. “No. Thanks.”

  I’m probably just delaying the inevitable, but it’s somewhat of a defense mechanism. “Are you sure?” I ask as I move to close the fridge, and he loses whatever
patience he has.

  “Jesus, stop. Please. I just want to talk to you!”

  Here it comes. The official break-up. Avoiding his eyes, I walk over to the sofa and sit. I play with my fingers, still not willing to look up into those gorgeous golden eyes. I feel the cushion depress, and his leg presses against mine. “Helena, look at me.”

  I do. Only because if I don’t, I won’t believe this actually happened, and I don’t want to live in denial. He reaches over and takes my hand. I fight an eye roll. Oh, great, he’s holding my hand. Never a good sign. Just do it already. Put me out of my misery.

  “Ceecee told me what happened. I know you didn’t have anything to do with Maddy showing up.” Vindicated. Well, at least that’s something. He adds, “I said some things to you in the heat of the moment. Things I didn’t mean, and I need to apologize for them.”

  If I look him in the eye while he apologizes, I’ll cry. I dip my chin. His fingers grip my chin, lifting ‘til we’re eye-to-eye. He searches my face a long moment before he utters sincerely, “I’m sorry, cupcake.” His voice turns rough. “I am so sorry.”

  My eyes fill with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. Instead, I whisper, “It’s okay.”

  His eyes blaze. “It’s not okay. If anyone else spoke to you the way I did, I would fuckin’ murder them.”

  My eyes close of their own accord. I repeat, “It’s okay. I forgive you. I know you were put in a stressful situation. Not only was your daughter hurt in the fray, but you thought I betrayed you after you told me Ceecee’s mom was a sore spot.” I stress the conviction by steadying my voice. “I get it. I do.” I open my eyes and take in a shaky breath. “But I never would. Betray you, that is.”

  His face turns pained. “I know you wouldn’t, baby.”

  Well. That’s that. I stand and head to my room. Taking out what I’d prepared when I got home earlier, I bring it out and hand him his overnight bag. He looks at it in confusion before he stands, towering over me, eyes blazing. He takes the bag from my fingers and throws it aside. It hits the ground with a dull thud. His eyes wide, he places his hands gently at the base of my neck, gets in my face, and states, “I’m not letting you break up with me. So you can go ahead and put that back in your closet.”