Pitcher's Baby Read Free Page A

up the broken glass and get all of her
things moved into her room across the hall. Aaron had Clarisa buy a swing and a
bouncer as well as a basinet that she had set up next to Charlee’s bed,
anticipating the arrival of the baby.
    I try to ignore the tears I see spring to
the surface of her eyes when she sees it all, but I can’t. Seeing the raw
appreciation and relief reminds me once again of the many things my own mother
gave up for me when I was growing up and how much I truly owe her.
    “I’m sorry about scaring you earlier. I
didn’t know you guys were coming,” I say to her, trying to ease the tension in
the room. Her shoulders tense, but she doesn’t turn to me or reply, so I walk
out of her room and back to my own, where her sleeping daughter still lies on
my bed.
    “Come on, beauty, let’s get you to bed,” I
whisper to her as I lift her beneath her head and bottom and carry her from the
room.
    Entering the room, I see that Charlee is
sitting on the edge of the bed holding a stack of letters. I don’t think she
notices me enter, and I don’t want to startle her again, so as quietly as
possible, I ease the baby into the bassinet and then lean down and kiss her on
the forehead. She’s so precious. I’ve always envied the young, especially at
this age. They have nothing to worry about. Someone else takes care of their
every need.
     “Bonne nuit, belle fille,” I whisper to
her and then walk from the room, closing the door quietly behind me. It’s been
a long night, and I’m beyond ready to lie down and get some sleep.
     
     
     

 
    Chapter
Two
     
    Charlee
     
    As soon as the door shuts, I pull out my
phone and Google what he said, typing in the best translation I can — Bonne
nuit, belle fille – Good night, beautiful girl .
    My heart aches when I read the touching
words. Why can’t her father love her this way? Why doesn’t he see her as the
beautiful blessing she is? A complete stranger has spent less than an hour with
her, and he held her more in that time than her own dad has in the last six
weeks. I wish I could blame it all on the drugs, but I know that’s not true.
    He didn’t want a baby. He was pissed when
we found out I was pregnant and demanded that I have an abortion, but I
refused. In the end, he stayed and pretended to be happy until we found it was
a little girl. Then everything changed.
    I understood that he wanted a little boy
if he was going to have a child, but that’s not the hand we were dealt. Why
couldn’t he be happy that we were blessed with a healthy child? Instead, he
found comfort at the end of a glass pipe with his buddies, and for the time, I
stayed with him, at least until my beautiful Everly Grace was born. Then I’d
had enough.
    The final straw was when he showed up at
the hospital, high as a kite, and then left me at eight centimeters dilated to
go across the street to get a tall boy. My daughter was welcomed into this
world by a team of doctors and nurses. She didn’t meet her father until she was
one week old. He didn’t show back up at the hospital, not even to sign the
birth certificate, so as far as the state of Arizona was concerned, her father
was unknown.
    Laying my head against the fluffy pillows,
I close my eyes and try to dream of a future of happiness. A future where I no
longer have to worry about how I’m going to afford my next can of formula and
my next pack of diapers. I long for that security, for that stability. I want
more than anything to give that life to my daughter—to give her the life I
never had.
    I hate being here and living off Aaron,
even though I know he doesn’t mind. He loves having me here, and having his
niece close by makes him even happier, but I feel like a moocher. He has worked
his ass off every day on the field to make the money he makes, and he supports
himself. He shouldn’t have to support me too.
    Lying in the bed, I doze in and out of
sleep. I try to shut my mind off and escape into the far Netherlands in