The Billionaire’s Baby Mama

Chapter 7

May

The building was nearly one hundred years old, and it had the single-pane windows, scuffed hardwood floors, and steam radiators to prove it. It worked out well for Alistair —the windows made the cars, busses, and pedestrians who trafficked the street seem as if they were in the apartment and thus provided him ample entertainment—but it was more of a bummer for me. I liked quiet . . . and sleep. At least I used to until I had the twins and I developed an habit of waking up at the slight noise. But it was Wonderland for Alistair who is the Calm one of the twins. He prefers watching and observing before making any move. He only talks when necessary, unlike his sister Amanda.

I swear that child must have been a parrot in her previous life, she talks a lot. When they were much smaller and at the stage where they’d just started babbling, Amanda could spew on endlessly but Alistair, he was so quite. Too quite. Always staring and just absorbing whatever was around him. I was worried and scared that something was wrong, I had to take him to a pediatrician who assured me that he was doing fine and would talk when he was ready. Which eventually happened.

I park my car in my apartments parking lot and take the elevator up to my floor. I start a mental list of all the things I need to get done before the school bus drop off the kids in a few hours. Laundry. Dish washing. Maybe finally sort through the baby things I want to donate to the orphanage home right across the street. I should probably throw in a few of my stuffs too. I pause my silent musings as the elevator slides open and I am spotted by someone I’d rather avoid.

John, my neighbor who moved in about a year ago. He has the whole average thing going for him; average height, brown hair, brown eyes, works a Nine to Five job, is home by six everyday like clockwork, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t drink, doesn’t curse and loves Football . As I said, an Average Normal Guy. Seems like a nice guy. I know, I know I sound like a nosy neighbor but I promise I’m not. Everything I know is because he told me. Which brings me back to why I’d rather avoid him. He’s being asking me out for a few months now. He’s been very persistent. I have been trying to let him down softly but he is not taking No for an answer. I already have enough on my plate, I can’t add in anything else.

His face spots a smile immediately and pause his walk as he waits for me to meet up.

I walk as slow as possible and paint a phony smile. "Hey, John."

"May. Just the person I was hoping to see.” His smile grows wider.

The feeling isn’t mutual but I still smile. "Oh. That’s nice. What’s up?”

"I have four tickets to an Amusement park. I was hoping you and the kids would come along.”

This is the sixth invite from him to attend one show or something similar. It’s not that I hate outings or the location he picked, The places are wonderful and are places I would pick myself. But I just don’t want to have anything to do with him. He seems like a nice guy and also seems to genuinely like my kids. But I just don’t know why I’m not attracted to him in any way, I don’t like him in that manner. Not into him. He feels more like a friend. I have to let him off gently. The last time he asked me out was a month ago. The longest interval between his requests, so I was hoping he had accepted my decision and has given up. That’s why I have been avoiding him, so as not to water his feelings. But it definitely didn’t work.

I wince. "John.”

His smile drop. "You are rejecting me. Again."

I don’t know why he keeps asking me out when he already knows my response. Maybe he is a Masochist. "John. I told you already. I’m not looking for a relationship.”

"I know. You said so. But I was hoping maybe you’d change your mind this time.”

Now I’m curious. What gave him the idea? "Why’d you think that?”

His face turns wicked and angry. "You went to see a guy today.” He said it with so much conviction and as if it physically hurt him to utter the words.

Hold on. How did he know that? I only told the girls over the phone last night. I didn’t even mention it to Mrs Russo. "How do you know that?” I ask curious of his answer.

He blinks his face transform back into the nice and smiling face I was used to. "Oh. That. I guessed that right. Well I got to go. I’ll see you around.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he leaves me standing alone in the hallway.

Okay. That was strange. I make a mental note to analyze that weird interaction when I have a free moment.

Right now I need to start the chores as I planned earlier. There is so much to do in so little time. So I shake off the weird conversation as I use my key on the door to my apartment.

The sweet smell of cinnamon hits me as I step into my home. I pause and inhale after locking the door behind me. I take off my shoes, hang it on the shoe rack beside the entrance and exchange them for a pair of comfy slippers. I drop my keys in the ceramic bowl on the shelf hanging over the shoe rack. I choke back a little laughter when my eyes catch the family portrait Alistair drew. The stick figures look more identical to ants than humans but I love it. He’d spent about an hour on the portrait.

I dropped my bag on the couch and headed straight for my room to change into more comfortable clothes—a plain pink round neck top and a old leggings. I pack my hair and roll it into the donut style.

My apartment is on the small side with two bedrooms with a adjoining bathroom, and a living room, with a wide kitchen which we partition into two areas; the kitchen with the cooking stuffs and equipment and a small area off the living room which we placed a small square dining table surrounded by four chairs. Though we rarely use the dinner area.

The living room is pretty standard; a tv with cable, two threadbare sofa seats, a small centerpiece table. A few knickknacks here and there. There’s a small shelf besides the tv that’s dedicated to books. It’s a book rack with a combination of my favorite books, Amanda’s and Alistair’s. Overall my apartment is small and a bit cluttered but it’s home. It’s the first place the kids and I got after I decided to leave Donna’s place.

The kids and I stayed with her. It was a dream come through for me. She stood for me when I was all alone. She was there for me through every step of the pregnancy, she attended baby classes with me, went with me to my clinical appointments, held my hand during labor. She makes it had to believe that we never knew each other until that unfortunate situation at the bus stop.