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However, until I could pick up my French press and buy the proper beans, I was stuck drinking a cup at a time.Such a waste.
A soft knock at the door drew me from my musings. With coffee on hold, I crossed to the door and squinted, looking through the peephole. Mack Sr. waited on the other side. He was holding two cups from the coffeehouse down the street.Thank fuck.
Unlocking the door, I opened it wide. “Morning.” I glanced down at the cups in his hands. “Please tell me one of those is for me.”
Mack Sr. chuckled. “Good morning, Jackson. And yes—” he held out one of the paper cups “—I brought this for you. Sarah Jane told me Waverly had a piece-of-shit coffeepot.”
“She does,” I said with a snicker before stepping back so he could enter.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “This has got to be the tiniest fucking apartment I’ve ever seen.” His gaze darted around the room before landing back on him. “Is there even a bedroom?”
The expression on his face said everything I’d already been thinking. Yes, money was tight for Waverly, however, I had to wonder if the small space was punishment. I pointed to the door to Mack’s right. “Just one. Waverly and Alandria share a room.”
“I’ve got no words, Jackson. None. I can’t even give you an explanation on why Waverly did what she did.” He took a sip of his coffee. “She tell you yet?”
I shook my head. “Not yet.” I hesitated asking the question sitting on the tip of my tongue, but I wanted to know. “Everything okay between you and Sarah Jane?”
“Wasn’t happy with her either, but I get it.” He gestured with his coffee. “You have a daughter now, and one day you’ll understand. Sarah Jane explained the situation after the initial call came in from the hospital. Mothers protect their children. However, in this, she repeatedly expressed to Waverly what she was doing came with consequences and to articulate to Alandria’s father the truth. Sarah Jane had no doubt you were the father from the get-go. Waverly, however, refused to budge on anything. Sarah Jane didn’t want to break her trust or push her further away.”
“It doesn’t make it right,” I stated, feeling the simmering anger spark back to life.
“Sure as shit doesn’t. Unfortunately, the trust built between parent and child means we often walk a fine line. It’s not always easy for us to straddle the damn thing.”
I stared at my coffee and contemplated what Mack said. He was right. A parent’s duty was to their family first, and everyone else came second. It wasn’t Sarah Jane’s or Mack Sr.’s fault Waverly hid everything from me. I took a sip of my drink, then sighed as the caffeine started to flow through my veins, kicking my fatigue in the ass.
“When are you planning to leave to pick up Waverly?” Mack asked as he walked over and sat down on the couch. He grimaced, and I didn’t blame him. That damn piece of furniture was a torture device. I planned to buy a new one with a pullout bed as soon as I could.
“Wanted to wait until Alandria woke up.” I ran my hand through my bedhead. “I still need to get a shower. Your granddaughter has a knack for waking up and being bossy the moment I step into the shower.”
Mack laughed. “Finish your coffee and shower. I’ll keep an ear out for her while you go blow the stink off yourself.”
Taking the last sip, I crumpled the cup up and tossed it in the trash. Last night before I went to bed, I’d pulled out a bunch of frozen breastmilk packets from the freezer and put them into the fridge to thaw. Every day the supply Waverly had, I assumed, worked so hard for dwindled. As much as Dr. Jay assured me Waverly’s stock would be fine and not tainted by the medication they were giving her, he still recommended waiting a couple of weeks before allowing Alandria to have Waverly’s milk. Which meant relying on the donations at the hospital. Not that I’d snub my nose at it. When I picked Waverly up, I planned on also grabbing a fresh stash so Waverly could focus on getting better.
Grabbing the oldest pack first, I dropped it into a pot of warm water. “Once this is ready, you just need to pour the milk into one of the clean bottles from the drain board. I washed and sterilized them last night, so you’re good to go.” I pointed to the bottles next to the sink before stepping into the bedroom so I could get ready.
After turning on the water, I undressed and waited for the spray to heat up. Steam filled the above-average sized bathroom. It still surprised me how tiny the rest of Waverly’s apartment was, except for the bathroom. It was bigger than the one I’d shared with Landon growing up.
I started sleeping in Waverly’s bed after waking up with crick in my neck the first night. I refused dealing with the small-ass, lumpy couch, which gave me back and neck issues. There was a downside to sleeping in Waverly’s bed though. It was torture. Every inch of her sheets smelled like her, especially her pillows. I woke up with a hard dick every morning. It took me two days to work up the nerve to jack off in the shower, only to have Alandria scream bloody murder because she woke up, and I wasn’t there to provide her with a bottle. Nothing like a bloodcurdling scream to make your dick go soft.
So, I stopped trying, convinced I’d be admitted into the Guinness World Records for having the biggest set of blue balls ever recorded in history. At least Mack was here now, and I knew he’d get Alandria if she made a peep. It just seemed wrong on so many levels to jack off with him just in the other room. Yet, I also couldn’t fight the compulsion to relieve the building tension. Under the guise of washing my dick, I rubbed one out, biting my bottom lip as I spasmed through a much-needed orgasm.
Fuck. What the hell am I doing?
Since I didn’t have to rush, I took my time. I allowed the hot water to ease the last of the soreness from my jaw and neck, then soothe the tightness between my shoulders. When I’d been in there long enough, I turned off the water and snagged my towel hanging by the shower stall, wrapping it around my hips.
When I exited the bathroom, Alandria’s crib was empty. I hadn’t even heard her whimper. Then again, I had been preoccupied. Once I was dried off, I dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans, a thin long-sleeved white shirt, and a dark short-sleeved Henley. I finger-combed my hair before pulling on my socks. I’d been leaving my boots by the door after I tripped on them in my rush to get to Alandria when she cried the first night.
“Everything okay?” I asked when I stepped back into the living room.
Mack Sr. sat on the couch, Alandria cuddled between his arms while he held the bottle for her. I picked up the funky u-shaped pillow Ireland insisted I used. “This helps take the strain off your arm.”
Mack Sr. snorted. “Please, boy, this girl is just a little bitty thing. I don’t need a damn pillow to support me.” Funny, I’d thought the same thing until I woke up with a sore shoulder the other morning. Now I used the damn pillow. I didn’t argue though. Wasn’t worth it. Besides Mack Sr. had helped raise three of his kids. He didn’t need me telling him how to care for or feed Alandria.
“If you get hungry, there’s a bunch of prepped meals in containers in the fridge. They’re all labeled, so help yourself,” I said, then explained what all I’d made.
“Got it. You know,” Mack mused, “always thought holding your own kids was a special experience. Cuddling your grandkids... It’s spectacular.”
I smiled, doubting he heard a word I’d said since all his focus was on his granddaughter. Slipping my boots on, I laced and tied them before I got up to get my jacket and the keys to my Comet. Another surprise Ireland had; she’d driven my car on the first visit. It was almost like she’d read my mind. Mack had followed Ireland over as well, allowing me to stay in for the day to get to know my daughter.