BABY GIRL

3.

David

I come home to the sound of something shattering in the dining. I thought it was Ana who has broken a plate again but when I get there, I find my daughter’s best friend crouched on the floor, her hands full of broken glass. I rush over and kneel beside her, catching her wrist before she can gather more shards. She freezes, like I caught her doing something criminal.

Her eyes are wide. Is she embarrassed that I walked in on her breaking a cup?

I’m not even looking at her reactions anymore. I’m focused on her hands. Small, soft, delicate hands that shouldn’t be touching these dangerous shards. She’s nicked one already and its starting to bleed.

“You okay?” I ask, calmer this time. I don’t want her thinking I’m upset or anything simply because she broke one of my most precious glass cups. I cherish it because it belongs to Ana’s Mother.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she says, too quietly as if in guilt.

I look at the cut. It’s shallow, but it’s bleeding more than I like. “See what I was trying to prevent,” I mutter, already reaching for the first aid kit under the sink. “I need to disinfect this.”

She doesn’t argue. Just sits still, watching me dab antiseptic on the scrape with a cotton pad. I do it gently. She doesn’t flinch even a little like Ana would’ve done. Makes me think she might be used to getting hurt like this. It’s a pity.

I glance up for a second, and her gaze collides with mine. Her pupils are a little too wide. Her breath a little too quick I don’t know if I’m making her uncomfortable. Am I making her uncomfortable?

Shit. I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable. But I’m a bit worried. She doesn’t look okay.

I clear my throat. “You sure you’re alright?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

Lies. I can smell it miles away. I can hear it in her voice as well. But I let it slide since she’s unwilling to tell me whatever it is that is bugging her mind.

“Good.” I say. “Now go take a seat while I pack this.”

She obeys and stands up without hesitation. I keep my hands busy sweeping up the glass with a parker that I pulled under the cabinet, but somehow-somehow, my eyes follows her backside tucked in tiny little shorts.

Jesus, snap out of it, David. I lowered my gaze immediately. That was very inappropriate I don’t know what the f**k made me look at her backside. She’s seventeen and she’s my daughter’s best friend for goddamn sake. Off limits in every possible way.

I scrub a hand down my face and take a long breath. Four years of abstinence is doing me dirty.

***

Dinner is awkward as hell.

Ana’s talking a mile a minute about school, but Nate is quiet. Ana told me he hasn’t said a word to Maggie since he arrived. When I told him she’d be staying with us, he did not complained either. He just… nodded.

Now, he’s barely even looking at her and for some reason, that unsettles me more.

He’s changed since he came home I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

I’m watching both of them while pretending to focus on my prayer before I eat my food. I try as much as I can to not make this dinner more uncomfortable than it has to be.

When we finish, Maggie insists on helping clear the dishes. I tell her she doesn’t have to, but she insists again. So I let her.

I don’t think she’ll back down anyway. She seems genuinely interested in helping.

***

Later in the night, I listen to the girls in Ana’s room laughing and giggling. I’m glad my daughter has a friend like Maggie. I was always worried about Ana because I will never understand the extent to which loosing her mother has affected her. And Maggie seems to bring so much happiness and joy in her life. I’m so grateful for that.

It is more than enough reason to let Maggie stay for as long as she wants to.

I’ll just have to figure out a way to deal with my own loneliness. I would never intentionally do anything to disgrace my daughter or hurt Maggie who is someone’s daughter as well.

I’m in the living room, scrolling absently through some work emails, but my mind is elsewhere.

Nate.

I shut my laptop.

I need to have a decent conversation with that boy so I’ll at least understand why he’s treating Maggie like that.

So help me God.

Nate is in his room, sitting still on his bed with headphones on. He doesn’t look up when I walked in but he shifts a little to acknowledge my presence. I sit on the bed next to him and give him a big pat on the back.

“Hey”

“Hey Dad.”

“I’m so glad that you’re here with us. We missed you a lot you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I hesitate for seconds before I clear my throat.

“Hey, so, what’s going on between you and Maggie?”

He flinch the moment he hears her name. I see his hands grip the edge of the bed so tightly. He’s irritated by my question. But why?

“I see you’re not here to ask how I’d been all this time I was locked away from society and family. You’re here because you’re worried about her.”

“Come on Nate-“

“I ain’t gonna hurt her Dad,” he cuts in sharply. “If that’s what you’re worried about then no, I will never hurt the girl.”

“That’s not exactly what I mean.” I counter his attack.

I can’t help wondering why he calls her the girl anyway. As if her name is some kind of abomination. This is getting more strange and worrisome.

“Excuse me.” Nate gets to his feet in a rush. “I need some air, I’m going for a walk.”

“Need I remind you it’s past 10pm?”

He’s already walk even before I could finish my sentence.

Man, managing my family ain’t going to be as easy anymore. With Ana, I at least have an idea what to do but with Nate, I don’t know how to do it right. I wish Sophia had at least taught me how to do it before she left me.

I’m about to leave his room when the sketchbook sitting on table catches my attention. Some colorful drawing of a girl’s hair is peeking out so I move to have a look. I open the page and Maggie’s face is on the drawing. Immediately, I flip through the other pages and there’s about six or seven more different drawings of her. What startles me more are the dates on each drawing. It means he’s been making sketches and drawings of Maggie since he was fourteen.