Maxed Steel by M.J. Fields
The Park
Mila
Two hands slapagainst my cheeks and turn my head. “Mommy tired?”
“No. I just know I’m going to be missing my little girl when I head back to school.” And I haven’t slept uninterrupted since Max showed up at JU.
“I come?”
“Not yet.” Because there is no family housing at JU and nothing affordable to rent close by.
“But you come home and play soon?”
“Of course.”
“And Santa time?”
“Always.”
“And hot sparkly time?” she asks, referring to the summer or, more specifically, the Fourth of July.
“Forever.”
“And go on a boat time?”
“You mean my favorite day of the year? Your birthday?” I ask as I lean in and blow a raspberry on her cheek.
She laughs as I grab a wipe and clean off her face and hands, and then mine, too.
She slides off my lap and pulls on my hand. “Swing me, Mommy.”
I shove the remainder of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich in its reusable baggy, the used wipe in the old plastic grocery bag I use for trash, and then shove them both in the diaper bag that I still use to carry wipes for her sticky face, juice boxes in case some of the neighborhood kids ask, and snacks for the same reason. I throw the bag over my shoulder and let Saylor pull me toward the toddler swings.
After putting her in the seat, I pull her back and release her as she squeals in delight at such a simple thing.
Her hair —which Aunt Pam insisted I have cut short because Saylor throws a fit when it has to be brushed by anyone but me— blows around as she swings back. I have to remind myself to make sure the detangler is right by the tub, because Aunt Pam will need it since I couldn’t bring myself to have more than an inch cut off.
“High, Mommy, high!” she yells.
“Okay, Saylor, hang on,” I tell her as I push, but not any higher, in fear the old swing will break and she will fall to the ground and break her leg, like I did the summer before junior high.
“She’s beautiful,” someone says as they put their little boy in the swing beside us.
“Thanks. He’s a doll, too,” I respond, not really looking but truly believing all kids are beautiful, even when Cia thinks they all look like trolls or cartoon characters.
She laughs, and I realize she knows I didn’t look at him.
“Sorry, I just have this weird fear that this thing is gonna break the second I look away and I won’t be able to catch her, you know?”
“Totally get it.”
“Can I push her?” an older boy’s voice comes from behind me.
“Thank you, but I got it.”
“I promise I won’t look away, either. If it breaks, I’ll catch her.”
“Archer,” the woman scolds softly. “You can’t just roll up on someone who doesn’t know you and ask to push their kid.”
“Why?” he huffs, and I am about two seconds from grabbing Saylor and getting the hell out of there. “I’m not some bad guy. I’m one of the good ones.”
“Because she doesn’t know that, and she’s protecting what’s hers.”
Okay, fuck this, I think as I stop the swing.
“We’ve got to get going anyway.”
“No, Mommy. More swings. Higher.”
The woman beside me whispers, “You’re good, Mila. Saylor’s good.”
Swing in my hands, I whip around and look up at the woman, immediately recognizing her. Bella Steel.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“Just a quick chat.” She nods toward something, and I see her husband and a girl push off the one tree planted in the little park and walk toward us.
“I really don’t have a lot of time.”
“Give me ten minutes. Tags will push Saylor, Luna will insist on doing it instead—she loves kids. Archer will push his brother, Apollo, and not one person within a twenty-mile radius will approach them with my hot but scary as hell looking husband standing here.”
“I’m sure you don’t get this, but I’m not worried about the people around here. I’m more worried about people like you.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, sweetheart, drop the pretense and give me ten minutes.”
I look around me and see them all, unmoving, and my eyes land on who I assume is Luna, smiling sweetly as she asks, “Can I push her? I promise I’ll be careful.”
I glare at Bella. “You have five.”
As soon as my butt hits the bench, I tell her, “I do not appreciate this.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll get over it.”
I turn and face her. “You might want to look around and see where you’re at. It may not look like shit to you, but it is home to me, my family, and my daughter. If I want you out of here, twenty men who are just as scary as your husband will be here and see we get back to our place.”
“Gotta ask what in the actual hell do you think me and my three kids are going to do to you and that little girl who is probably going to be my family?”
“Probably?” I nod in understanding.
“Okay, fine, definitely.”
“That makes it no better.”
“Well, it’s not a lie.”
I get immediately that she thinks I’m a liar. “Don’t judge me.”
“Gotta know the side to be a judge of anything. Let me hear yours.”
“So, he’s going to drag us through this, huh?” I shake my head. “Get your team of lawyers to suit up. I’ll defend myself.”
As I start to stand, she places a hand on my knee, stopping me.
“She deserves to know Max. She does, just like I deserved to know my father before I was eight. That’s my dog in this fight, Mila—me. And I’m sure Auntie Pam is enjoying this shit.”
“You back off my aunt. She’s put her life on hold for us.”
“I’m well aware of what she’s putting on hold. She did it to me, too. And, Mila, I will fight for Saylor, just like I wished my dad could have afforded to fight for me.”
“What the hell are you even talking about?”
“My mom, Charlee, died giving birth to me at eighteen. My father, Max’s father, was seventeen. His parents fought for shared custody to the point they had to sell their family home. Then our grandfather, Jonathon, died in a hurricane that wiped out their little restaurant. My grandmother and her sons opened a tattoo shop, because they couldn’t afford to reopen as a restaurant. My family didn’t have money, then. They ended up inheriting it from our grandmother’s estranged family in Italy. The story’s much more detailed than that, but I can promise you that it does affect you. My mother’s best friend used to sneak my father pictures of me, and eventually, they started hooking up. Whenever he tried to break up with her, she would stop communicating with him about me. She used me to get to him. Ask me her name, Mila.”
“What does this have to do—”
“Aunt Pam,” she interrupts me and, with disgust, answers her own question.
“Bella?” comes from behind me, and I turn around.
Aunt Pam is walking toward us, cane in hand.
I stand up and hurry toward her, hoping she doesn’t fall. “I don’t think you should be here. Let me grab Saylor, and we’ll get inside.”
She shakes her head and slowly walks toward the bench.
I look at Bella, whose shock is evident.
“I want you to leave,” I tell her.
“Not yet.” Tears fill Pam’s eyes. “I’d like a few minutes with Isabella.”
The hurt in her eyes causes me pain. “You don’t have to do this.”
“But I do, Mila.”
I watch Pam move with slow, cautious steps, realizing she is getting slower and weaker by the minute.
She sits on the bench and looks up at me. “You have anything to tell me, Mila?” I know she’s asking about Saylor’s father.
“The answer will be the same as it has always been—I don’t know who her father is.”
She tilts her head. “Is it one of Bella’s cousins, or maybe her brother?”
I look down at my feet, ashamed, and shrug. “Could be, but he wasn’t the only one.”
“Raise your head up high, Mila. There is no shame to be carried in this. Just look at your daughter. You’ve been an amazing mother, sister, and niece.”
I lift my chin. “I’m sorry I never told you. I just didn’t want—”
“For good reason, too.”
“And what the hell does that mean?” Bella snaps.
Pam looks back at her and smiles as I swallow back the ass chewing I’m about to give her for speaking to Pam like she just did.
“You’re beautiful as the day is long, Isabella. Always have been.” She looks back at Saylor, her eyes squinting because of the sun. “And that little cherub there, she looks so much like you did at her age. I should have known.”
“Oh, I’m sure you did. I’m sure.” Bella’s voice cracks, and Pam reaches over and pulls her into a hug.
“Don’t.”
“I’m sorry. I was a stupid, young girl back then. I was missing my best friend and fell in love with a man who never was and never would be mine. But that didn’t mean I didn’t love you, Little Bell. Always have and always will.”
“You didn’t.” Bella sniffs as she pulls back.
“I certainly did. And I will admit that Karma came back swinging.” She taps her cane on the ground and smiles. “Trying to take my legs, and definitely stole my hot little Jersey Shore body.”
Bella wipes her hand under her nose. “What happened to you?”
“Rheumatoid arthritis. But I’m doing just fine.”
From behind me, I hear, “Why you crying, Mom?”
I look back at Archer, who is glaring at me and Aunt Pam.
“Is this one of yours, Isabella?” Pam asks with nothing but love in her tone.
Bella smiles at him and nods. “Come here, Archer. I want you to meet someone.”
He looks her up and down. “Is she good or bad?”
Pam laughs. “Done some bad things in my life, little man, but I’m doing good things now.”
He considers her for a minute then shrugs. “You ever done time?”
“Archer.” Bella laughs as she’s trying to scold him.
“You’re my mom. I protect you.”
“Yeah?” She giggles. “Well, I changed your diapers, so let’s put things in perspective, shall we?”
Pam laughs loudly. “Oh, Isabella, you are just like your father, and so are you,” she tells Archer.
“She know Pops?” Archer asks.
“Yeah, bud, she did. Now go play and let us girls talk.”
“Gross,” he grumbles right before he takes off.
“So,” Aunt Pam says to me, “I think we have some talking to do.”
“I’m an adult, and I am doing what I need to do. I can—”
“And whether she’s Max’s or not, he’s not going anywhere, except maybe jail if Saylor’s Marc’s.”
“I don’t want a fight. I don’t want Saylor—”
“Hold up,” she says, digging into her crossbody. She pulls out a baggy and a comb. “I know a guy who can get you the answers you need, so you’ll know if there will even be a fight.”
“And if it’s his, you need to promise not to say anything. Max needs to just leave me alone so that she doesn’t have to … so I don’t have to lose what precious time I have with her.”
“Yeah, well, Max is not going to let anything go. He’s very much planning on making you his.”
I bat away a tear that I didn’t realize had fallen. “I am not looking to be anyone’s.”
“But you deserve to be.” Pam smiles.
“That’ll be your decision. I promise to keep it quiet, if you promise not to tell him that I was ever here.”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Hell no, he doesn’t. He’d flip if he knew I was eavesdropping on his conversation with my parents. So, when he rolls up to pick you up in the vehicle he’s shopping for now with Dad, you better keep it to yourself.”
“Never a dull moment around your family, is there, Isabella?” Pam laughs.
“Yeah, and about that. Carly doesn’t need the stress of—” She snaps her mouth shut.
“Of me?” Pam finishes.
Before Bella can respond, I tell her straight-up, “She’s my family.”
She doesn’t look at me. She stays looking at Pam. “Just, no games.”
“It’s been years, Bella. Lifetimes. I am no longer that girl.” Pam laughs. “I’m literally twice the woman with half the moves. And besides”—she looks at me—“I have a man.”
“Are you talking about Jesus again?” I ask.
She gives me the look, the one that says bitch please without saying bitch please. “I love my relationship with my Lord and Savior, but I’m dating Pastor Davis.”
“No way? When did this happen?”
“Been a minute. But he knows you girls—my girls—come first.”
Bella laughs. “Gotta tell me how he reacts when you two get it on and you scream out to his boss.”
Pam laughs. She looks so happy. God, it’s good to see her happy.
But inside, I’m terrified of what’s in store for Saylor, Cia, and myself.
* * *
Standingin the middle of our apartment complex’s lobby, I’m a bit disappointed that I didn’t get more shopping in this weekend. Then again, I didn’t have as much money to spend, knowing I’ll be paying a mechanic to put a Band-Aid on Becky, as I thought I would, and Saylor was a bit wound up by the third trip to Target. Couldn’t blame her. So was I. Taking Aunt Pam’s Kia instead of Becky sucked, but it is what it is.
“Once again, Mila, you’ve done the Lord’s work.” Pastor Davis smiles as he looks around at the tables filled with food and health and beauty products.
“And once again, Pastor Davis, I’m happy to help, but I do get a kick back.” Most of the time, I earn rewards in the form of coupons or actually make money off my coupon stacking ability, which enables me to buy fresh produce and meats so that Saylor, Cia, Aunt Pam, and I can eat healthier food than we could normally afford. We used to have a big stock pile in our tiny two-bedroom apartment, and some things would even go to waste. It feels good to do this, and it alleviates stress for so many living off a system that was never designed to help them succeed, let alone eat properly to stay healthy.
“Those are the Lord’s blessings.” He winks.
Pastor Davis is in his early sixties and is a tall, slightly overweight, balding man with the kindest eyes and smile. He was reassigned from his church in Canada to this one. It was a big transition for him to preach here, as opposed to the small town he had been in for years, but from what I learned over the past two years, his wife had passed away and he trusted God put him where he was needed and needed to be to grow and heal.
“They sure are.” I look down at Saylor, who’s asleep in her snuggly that’s attached to me.
“We plan on expanding your garden next season, as well.”
“That was mostly Aunt Pam’s idea.”
His cheeks pinken, and he says, “She’s a wonderful woman.”
“She seems to think highly of you, as well.”
“Yes, well, whatever becomes of that, she’s made it clear you girls come first, and I’ve made it clear I’d like it no other way.”
“I appreciate that, but don’t throw away something good on our account.” I don’t say much more, because I don’t know how much she has told him about our situation, but …
My thoughts are interrupted by two words.
“Hey, Mila.”
I look to my other side, and by the look in his eyes, he appears to know I’m not all that put off.
“Thanks for coming and all. I could have—”
“Hush your mouth, Blue,” he winks.
Pastor Davis clears his throat, and I steal my eyes from Max’s.
He steps forward and introduces himself. “I’m Pastor Davis, a friend of Mila’s family.”
“I’m Max Steel, a friend of Mila’s and hoping to become something more.”
Seriously! I think and glare at him.
“Can’t lie to a man of the cloth, Blue.”
“Shouldn’t lie at all, son.”
“No plans on doing so.” Max smiles at him in that Max Steel way of his.
“Good to hear. Mila is a great person and an asset to this community.”
“I’m sure she is.” He looks around at the people shopping then back at me. “Coupons?”
I nod.
“Epic.”
He looks down at Saylor. “So, is she going to wake up or—”
“She’s had a busy day, so probably not without a lot of prompting. She’ll wake up grumpy, and that makes it harder to leave her.”
“Any chance I can go with you to”—he scratches his head—“wherever she goes when you’re at school?”
“I can take it from here, Mila. Have a good week and safe travels.”
“Thanks, Pastor Davis.”
“Give me a minute. I need to grab something from the new ride.”
Before I have a chance to say a thing, he’s gone.
“He a good man, Mila?” Pastor Davis asks.
I really hope so.