Page 3 of My Addiction
He grabs Ollie under the arms and lifts him. I prepare myself for the screaming to start. The little bastard doesn’t make a sound or wake up.
“I didn’t want to touch the spit-covered baby. His hand was covered in it. He climbed onto my lap and went to sleep. If I had woken him, he would have cried.”
The man frowns at my words. I’m not sure what I said, but he stopped smiling. I prefer it when he’s smiling. I need to see it again.
“I’m sorry that a teething one-year-old grossed you out. If I owe you for having your clothes cleaned, I’ll pay it.”
“Smile again.”
“What?”
“You were smiling before, and now you aren’t. I want to see your dimples again.”
“Are you serious? I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
I get that reaction a lot.
“I’m serious. I want to see them.”
His cheeks turn pink, and he blinks at me a couple of times before responding. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”
“Oh, great, you found him!” Joanne, the director, says as she walks into my office. She looks over at me, then back at the man.
“Yeah,” he says, rubbing Ollie’s back. “We’ll get going.”
“Come with me. I saw you had several things in your cart before the little man here disappeared. I’ll get those bagged up for you.”
She places her hand on his back as she guides him through the office door. I don’t like her hand there. It’s an irritant that doesn’t have a rational reason to be in my head. I want to snap her wrist so she can’t touch him. She’s worked for Mom for years. I have to remind myself that I can’t do it. I don’t like this feeling coursing through me. Sure, I have malicious thoughts in public, but I never have any issue not acting on them. Right now, though, I’m actively keeping my hands down so I don’t grab the offending appendage.
I stand and follow them out of the office. His clothes are worn, and I notice the bottom of his pants is frayed. They don’t fit him properly, as if he’s lost weight since he bought them. Both he and his baby are clean and well-groomed. But you can see the struggle. I feel like I should do something, but I can’t figure out what. The question of why hits me. Why would I do anything for this stranger?
Joanne looks back at me. I recognize the nervous expression. I smile at her. She looks more nervous. That happens often when I smile at people. She hurries and grabs a cart filled with food and a few pieces of baby clothing.
“Was there anything else you needed today?”
“No, this is good,” he tells Joanne as she bags up the few necessities from his cart.
“I haven’t seen you before. I’m Joanne, the director here.” She glances at me, then back at the man. “We’re here to help.”
“I just moved here, and I’m looking for work.”
“What do you do?” I ask.
“I’m a freelance computer programmer.”
That’s perfect. I can work with that.
Chapter 2
Colton
Ollie squirms in my arms to be let down. He’s just started walking and would rather be on his own feet than be held. I place him beside me.
“Hold my hand,” I say as I grip his tiny hand in mine. I go back to digging through the rack for his size.
I came across the food bank and donation center by chance, so I stopped in. Ollie needs new clothes, and we need food. Food is easier now than it used to be. If he were still on formula, it would have used up all of my cash. Diapers still will. That shit is fucking expensive. Unfortunately, he’s still a long way from potty training, so yeah — diapers.
Focus, I keep telling myself. Focus on my next move.
