The Blessing Read online

  Grey begins to splash the shallow water around him and squeals as it hits his face. I can’t help but laugh at him, enjoying the moment we’re sharing together. I pause, realizing this has been the first time I laughed in a very long time. Emotions swell in my heart, and for a moment, I can barely breathe. I finish washing his hair before pulling him from the sink and wrapping him in a towel. See, Trevor. That wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be!

  Feeling proud of myself, I take him back to his nursery to get him dressed. That’s another thing which isn’t easy: trying to dress your baby as he’s constantly squirming around and kicking every time you try to slip his pants on. It takes a moment, but once I get in hang of maneuvering him, I get it done. As silly as it may be, I feel extremely accomplished. I’ve never cared for anyone before and I’m getting things done on my first try! Before this, I could barely take care of myself, so the fact I can take care of a baby amazes me. After Grey is in a fresh diaper—which I’m not entirely sure is on correctly—and dressed, I take him to the kitchen to have some breakfast with me. Our breakfast consists of a bowl of cereal for me and a bottle of formula and a jar of bananas for him. After he’s finished with his meal, I sit him comfortably on my lap while I search for job openings on my phone.

  Turns out, there isn’t much for me besides a few retail jobs and cook positions at chain restaurants. I was a cook out in California and managed to save up a bit of money before returning to Colorado, but not nearly enough money to afford me a place well suited for Grey and me. I grow disheartened as I scan through the options, realizing none of the jobs pay enough for me to afford much. However, I can’t be picky. I’m not college educated and I don’t have a wealth of job experience, so, I can’t expect to get a job which will meet all of my needs and expectations. I’ll just have to settle, and perhaps something good will come along eventually.

  I decide on applying to anyplace I think will give me an interview. Good or bad, I need a job. I settle Grey down at his baby gym before walking off to find my dad. I know he’ll let me borrow his laptop if I tell him the reasoning behind it. Despite it being nine o’clock in the morning on a Sunday, I find him in his den scouring over files. I suppose he wants to distract him from Dean’s death—just like I do. I lightly knock on his door and wait for him to look up. When he does, he looks even more tired than he did last time I saw him. His features are gaunt, his eyes are full of anguish. However, despite all of this, he smiles as soon as he sees me.

  “Trevor, you’re up early,” he comments as he gestures for me to sit in one of his wingback chairs in front of his desk.

  “Yeah, I’m not as lazy as I was as a teenager,” I joke as I take a seat.

  I spent my summers as a teen sleeping in until three in the afternoon every day after a night of drinking and partying. Of course, my dad had no idea since I was so good at sneaking out. I wish I hadn’t been so fucking indolent then. I could’ve been focusing on something advantageous. I guess as a teen, I had no fucking foresight.

  “I didn’t want to bother you. I just wanted to see if I could borrow the laptop form you. I wanted to apply for some jobs today.”

  “So, you’re staying in Colorado then?”

  My head whips around as I hear my mother’s voice from behind me. I didn’t even hear her approach, but apparently, she’d been listening the whole time. She looks surprised, as if she expected me to run away from my responsibilities or fail them. I suppose I can’t blame her because I haven’t had the best track record—but this is different. Grey is all that I have left of my brother. How the fuck could I run away from him?

  “I was planning on staying,” I say, trying to keep the bitterness I feel out of my voice.

  I feel like I’m a teenager again. She treated me like I was an irresponsible little shit then, and apparently nothing has changed. How can change happen, when everyone around you predicts your next steps, based off a notion of the past which you no longer feel associated with? I’ve only been removed from my old life for a matter of days, and already I feel like a different man. I can’t change the choices I’ve made—regardless of how fucking much I want to. All I can do now is try to move on and do better. Dean always believed in me—perhaps it’s time I started believing in myself.

  “That’s good,” she comments, but I’m not convinced she actually wants me here.

  I try to convince myself that this is her grief talking, but I fear it’s more than that. She’s never truly like me—even though I’ve spent years pretending that wasn’t true.

  “I’m going to apply for some jobs today and hopefully go to a few interviews this week,” I tell her, hoping it will convince her I’m here for good.

  “That’s wonderful, Trevor,” my dad says with an impressed smile. He’s always been my biggest supporter, despite my flaws. I give him a brief smile and he continues, “Take my laptop for as long as you need it.”

  Feeling uncomfortable with both of my parents in the room, I quickly take the laptop, thank my dad, and return to the living room to find Grey still playing in his baby gym. As soon as I see his smiling face, I can finally breathe again. I have no idea why my parents make me feel so fucking edgy—but I’ve never liked it. I always feel like my mom is summing me up and looking for defects. That’s why I’ve always liked to be as far away from her as possible. That sounds so horrible and I feel bad for thinking it, but I can’t help the emotions she inspires in me. She could always change her tune if she wanted to, but she just… doesn’t.

  Despite the good morning I’ve had, I still feel defeated after that brief interaction with my mother. Luckily, Grey is all smiles and manages to brighten my mood considerably. He reaches for me, making me feel like the most important person in the world. Maybe this is one of the draws to having children in the first place. They make you feel teen feet tall and bulletproof when they look at you with this sort of love and adoration. It’s especially nice at a time like this, when I really fucking need it. I pull him onto my lap and settle him on one of my thighs while the laptop is powering up on the other.

  Grey points at the computer and makes a sound, as if he were trying to ask what on Earth it was. “It’s a laptop, buddy. I’m going to apply for some jobs today and hopefully I’ll be able to get us our own place soon,” I tell him, although, I don’t know why I’m saying any of this shit aloud. It’s not like he understands a single word of it. I suppose it just makes me feel better to have someone to talk to.

  I turn on the television to Sunday cartoons for Grey, as I apply for some jobs. I forgot how long it took to fill out applications. They want to know about your schooling and work history, and then they want you to take a personality test to see if you’re a “good fit.” As much as I think it’s bullshit—I know I’ve got to complete all of this stuff if I want to get an interview.

  After a few hours of filling out applications with a few breaks here and there for Grey’s sake, I’m completely fucking beat. I just hope that someone will call me back tomorrow because I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I filled out applications for everything from a construction worker to a night clerk at a gas station. I have no experience working construction, but if they’d give me a chance, I know I’d be a fast learner. Hell, I’d learn anything quickly because I know my future is really fucking riding on it. I don’t remember the last time I’d be so driven. My motivation is in my arms with a huge grin on his face. I’ve got to do better for him. I don’t know what I’d do if I let him down. However, Grey isn’t the only reason I’m trying to improve; I want to do this for myself, as well. I want to prove to myself that I’m not a complete fuck-up. I want to prove that I can do something right.

  Chapter 3

  Creep

  “Trevor Warren.”

  Taking a deep breath, I give the hostess calling my name a tense smile before following her back to the manager’s office in the back of house. This is my first interview since my job search started and I don’t want to fuck it up. I was excited wh
en they called to schedule an interview—embarrassingly so. I even asked my dad to ask me a few questions in a little “mock interview” before I came today. I felt almost childish when I asked him to pretend to interview me, but I pushed any embarrassment aside because I really want to do well today. I have two interviews setup today and another one tomorrow. If these don’t go well, I’ll have to return to filling out more applications online.

  This first interview is for a line cook position at a local restaurant. It’s underwhelming to say the least, but I really need the money. I need a full-time position at a place that pays decent or—better fucking yet—a part-time position at a place that pays very fucking well, so I can have more time with my nephew. As soon as I walk into the office, I can tell this job isn’t going to be the best fit for me. The manager’s a complete prick off the bat. It’s like he’s lording his management position over me like it’s something I should be insanely jealous of. He treats me like I’m some sort of juvenile delinquent from the moment he sees my tattoos. I tried my best to cover them up—wearing a long-sleeved button-up to hid most of them—but I couldn’t hide them all. He took one hard look at the black and gray lotus flower on the right side of my neck and made a judgment call on me. It’s apparent he thinks I’m not good enough for the position. Which is surprising, considering it’s in food service and I’m going to be in the back of house. Fuck him. I leave feeling fucking jaded.

  The interview wasn’t a complete train wreck, but it didn’t go well either. He said he would “get in touch with me,” which I know is code for: “Don’t expect a call because it isn’t going to happen.” I try not to let it get me down, but I wish it went fucking better. Hell, I wish I was in the position to be turning jobs down. However, I know I can’t be that choosy since I’m pretty much begging for a position. I go out to my truck and try to relax, wishing I had a Marlboro 27 between my lips. I kicked my smoking habit as soon as I found out I was Grey’s guardian. I knew it wasn’t right to smoke around a baby—so, I trashed my last pack and haven’t smoked since. That doesn’t mean the cravings are gone, though. I deal with the cravings all the damn time. I pop open my glove compartment and grab my package of Nicorette Gum before popping a piece into my mouth. It doesn’t take away the craving completely, but it definitely soothes my desire.

  While I’m chewing away on the gum and daydreaming about nicotine, I open my wallet and look at the photo of Grey I placed inside earlier this morning. It’s a photo of him as a newborn and, for some reason, it really has a way of soothing me. He’s asleep in the photograph and looks so incredibly peaceful. I run my forefinger across his face before folding the photo back up and slipping it behind my driver’s license. It feels good having it there. It’s like a constant reminder of why I’m doing this. I don’t care how many prick managers make me feel like shit because I have my nephew to go home to.

  I grab my lunch before heading to my second interview of the day. The job’s a night clerk at a gas station near my parents’ home. I don’t know if it will work well with my need to take care of Grey, but it’s an option and I have to keep all of my options open. If this interview works out, I could always keep this job while I search for a better one that’s more compatible with my life. As I park outside the run-down gas station, I have to admit that I feel incredibly stupid wearing a button-up shirt and a nice pair of pants to this sort of job interview. This isn’t some nine-to-five office job, this is a shitty job at a shitty gas station. However, I hope the effort I put into my appearance works in my favor. I run a hand through my dark, unruly mane before heading inside with the hope that this interview won’t go as poorly as the last one did.

  I leave the interview feeling frustrated. As soon as I walked in, the manager snickered at me as he saw me dressed to the fucking nines for an interview at a gas station. Then, he couldn’t offer me more than fifteen hours a week. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I were making more than nine dollars an hour. I won’t be able to afford anything with that pay. I struggled to pay rent with the few roommates I had in Cali—so I have no idea how I’m going to pay for a nice apartment for Grey and myself. The manger told me he’d call me later this week if I got the job, but I didn’t get very positive vibes from him. I left knowing that I shouldn’t keep my hopes up.

  I pass a toy store on the way home and decide to stop. Since I’m not coming home with good news, it’d be nice to at least come home with a new toy for Grey. I park and grab another piece of gum before heading inside. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a toy store. The nostalgia hits me in waves as I realize I used to come here with my dad. Dean would look at the action figures and I would want to look at the various stuffed animals. Dean used to tease me for wanting a toy like that, but whenever another kid teased me for having a soft and cuddly toy, Dean would jump right in and scare them away. He was an amazing older brother. A lump begins to form in my throat and I try desperately to focus my thoughts on something else. It’s still so painful to think about him. Hopefully, I’ll be able to look back on our time together one day without feeling this way.

  I redirect my thoughts to Grey as I begin to walk up and down the aisles. I can’t ignore the appreciative glances I get from women as they pass me. The “old” me would’ve dropped whatever I was doing to flirt with them, but the “new” me focuses on finding a toy for his nephew. Even if I did flirt with them, what would I really have to offer them besides sex? I don’t need some older woman to look down on me. As hot as they may be, I know I have other things to focus on. I’m horny, though—uncomfortably so. I have so much built-up tension inside of me that I just need some way to release it. Maybe I should get a gym membership or a subscription to PornHub? I snicker at the thought and try to focus on something other than my libido.

  After twenty minutes of shopping with the help of an attractive saleswoman, I manage to find a few toys that are age appropriate for Grey. I leave the store with a Fisher Price gift set and the saleswoman’s cell number. I don’t plan on calling her anytime soon, but it’s nice to know that women still find me attractive. Especially insanely hot women I could easily see myself fucking. As soon as I get back on the road, I switch on the radio, feeling significantly more positive than I did an hour before.

  I get home around dinnertime, only to find that my family already ate. I try not to seem too disappointed because they are allowing me to live here for free, after all. I find the leftovers on the stove and set my shopping bag on the kitchen table before going to search for Grey—excited to show him his new toys. I need a little positivity after my disappointment of a day. I find him in the living room, resting in my mother’s arms.

  “How did the interviews go?” Mother asks without looking up from the baby. Her voice is passive, but I try my best to ignore it.

  “They’re going to get back to me,” I lie, before taking a seat on the chair across from her.

  She stiffens as soon as I sit down, as if she doesn’t want me in the room with her. Grey stirs awake in her arms and his big eyes search the room until they fall on me. As soon as his eyes meet mine, he begins to cry, causing me to want to hold him and make everything better.

  “I can take him, Mom,” I say, reaching my arms out for him.

  She tenses and holds Grey closer to her breast. “I raised two children, Trevor. I think I’ve got this,” she scoffs.

  Grey continues to cry and I roll my eyes at her, wondering why she insists on being so fucking difficult. “Mom, he wants me to hold him. Let me take him.”

  She looks at me for a long moment, before sardonically replying, “Of course, he does.” She hands him over, but she couldn’t have been more passive-aggressive about it if she tried.

  As soon as I take him away from her, I cringe at the tired look on her enhanced face. Suddenly, I feel bad about my bitter thoughts toward her. I know she’s been struggling since Dean’s death and I haven’t been the most supportive son.

  Grey’s cries cease as he sits comfort
ably in my arms. He stares up at me with a big grin before he starts to make all sorts of noises as if he were trying to have a conversation with me. I run my fingers along his face as he grabs ahold of my thumb, giggling before trying to stuff it into his mouth. I chuckle at him and feel all the stress from my day slowly begin to dissipate from my body.

  “Well, I’m going to go clean-up the kitchen,” my mother says, sounding resigned.

  I don’t want to upset her, but she almost acts as though she’s upset that Grey and I have a good relationship. Which confuses me because why wouldn’t she want what’s best for her grandson? I’m his guardian now, and having a good, loving relationship with him is extremely important.

  Wanting to make her feel better, and maybe even a little proud of me, I tell her, “I have another interview tomorrow.” I try to sound as optimistic as I can.

  Although she’s standing in the dark hallway leading to the kitchen, I can see the condescending look on her face. She looks so different like this… Truly unrecognizable. What happened to the beautiful and carefree woman she was when I was growing up with Dean? Now she looks so cold and repressed. Even though she stands a few feet away, I feel a great distance between us.

  “That’s good, Trevor,” she finally responds, and leaves before I can utter another word.

  I watch her go and have to wonder if she’s always treated me like this. Maybe I was too busy partying while I was growing up to ever notice her shit behavior toward me. I hear Grey giggle and I turn my attention back to him, not wanting to dwell on something which will only make me more depressed. Jesus, he’s so happy and he’s got his whole fucking life ahead of him. What I wouldn’t give to go back in time and redo things.