CHAPTER 6

MILLIE’S POV

Life kicks you in the teeth, then it has you laughing while you're bleeding from your gums. 

Yeah, well, that's where I'm at, right to the edge of the world, clinging with what little I got left, smiling all the while for Jay, my boy, my heart. 

The courts are breathing down my neck, all set to snatch him away from me, but I damn sure am not gonna let them see me break. Not in front of him.

Jay has got all his Legos all over the floor, building something—a spaceship or a castle or something. I don't know.

I just sit there watching him, so focused, with his little tongue poking out the corner of his mouth like he is the king of the world.

To me, he is my king, my baby boy, the only good thing in this rotten, godforsaken mess.

"Mommy, see! I made a dragon!" 

Jay's eyes shine, and for a moment, everything—all the crap swirling around us—just goes away. 

I forget the lawyers, the social workers, the stone-cold-eyed judge who thinks he knows better than me what my son needs.

I forget, because God, that smile on Jay's face makes everything right.

"That's one mean-looking dragon there, cutie pie!" I gush and take my fingers through his hair, my fingers unsteady from this very moment, but I get it pulled back together. "What's his name, anyway? It has to be a good one for a dragon."

He grinned at me, missing his front tooth, and my heart just about shattered.

"His name's Blaze! He's the toughest dragon in the whole world! He can protect us from anything, right, Mommy?"

I nod and take a big swig of my drink to wash that lump down my throat. 

"Damn straight, Blaze can take on the whole world—just like you, Jay. You are powerful, and don't let anybody mess with you.".

Jay laughs, and that's beauty—raw, painful beauty that pulls at the gut because you know it can't last. And I can't let him see that.

I can't let him see me in my weakness. So, I play along, pretending like everything's fine, like our world is not about to come crashing down around us. 

I need to keep him happy, keep him distracted. Maybe if I focus on the little things, I can forget what's coming too.

I scoop him up, quickly heaving him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

He squeals and laughs at me as if I have just told the most brilliant joke. 

His tiny hands grab at my hair, and I twirl him around and around, making him dizzy, making him happy. It is that sound of his laughter, his small body pressed against mine, that I cling to.

That helps me in keeping on my toes, even when everything around me seems to fall apart.

We head to the kitchen, and I set him on the counter. He's still giggling, almost.

We got flour in a bowl as I was ready to make a small cake.

"Look, Mama! I made you a smiley face!" Jay shows me his bowl, as proud as anything, and I nod, playing along, acting like my world is not falling apart.

"Well, that's one happy-looking bowl of flour, Jay."

My eyes never look away from his face, and I am trying to burn everything into my mind: his tangled blonde hair, his green eyes that seem a spitting image of mine, his tiny nose wrinkling when he's focused on something in front of him. 

I burn it all into remembrance, as soon it may be all that's left –memories.

When I’m out of my head I notice that flour is everywhere and the kitchen's a real mess.

"Are you okay, Mommy?" Jay's voice is soft and concerned. Christ, he's too curious for his own good.

Smack the smile on, though it feels an awful lot like a knife twisting in my gut.

"Course I am sweetheart. Why wouldn't I be?"

His big green eyes are as if they are trying to figure me out, and I hate that. 

Through me he can see so plainly. But I can't let him know it. Can't let him see me crack.

"I'm just tired, J. You wear me out, you know that?" I tousle his hair, trying to lighten the mood.

It doesn't shine so bright now, and then he would still be giggling, still.

"You should get some sleep, Mommy."

"I'm okay. We still got that dragon to finish, right?"

The glee returns to his face, and it is only then that I can breathe an easy sigh. 

Afternoon of building Lego dragons and battling imaginary enemies, all with me diving into it with every bit of might I had—the urge to hold onto those moments, the fight to hold the tears back.

Finally, Jay gets tired. 

"Come on baby let's get you in bed." I say as I carry him to bed.

I put him to bed and then tuck him in, maybe with a kiss to his forehead, lingering a bit longer than I should. 

Almost under my breath, I tell him. 

"Love you baby, “my voice sort of cracking, as I drag the blanket up against his chin. 

He Sort of mumbles something back, he is half asleep already, and I stand there watching him—fighting back the urge to cry.

I can't lose him. Just cannot.

The moment I am out of his room, everything falls. I gingerly click the door to a close behind him and slump my back against it, trying to catch my breath. 

I have been squeezed on my chest, and it feels as if someone is squeezing my hand on it, so it hurts to breathe.

I stumble into the bathroom, lock the door behind me, and let it out—all of it, the tears and sobs I've held back all day. 

I sit down on the floor, bury my face in my hands, let myself go, and cry. 

My shoulders were shaking, as it now dawned on me, again, that silent, ugly crying was on my schedule.

They're going to take him from me. God damn it, they're going to take him from me.

They're going to yank my heart out of my chest, and they're going to leave me bleeding. I can't—fuck, I can't do this. 

Jay's all I got now, and now they're gonna take him away because I am not good enough, because I am too damn messed up, because life's a cruel bitch who doesn't give a flying damn who it hurts.

I imagine a life without him: hollow, cold, a never-ending nightmare.

I think of those nights when I rolled over to reach out for him, and his side of the bed was empty, or that morning when I woke up and he wasn't there. 

My heart broke at the thought that he wouldn't be there to meet me, smiling face and all, on my rising. 

It is the birthdays I will miss, scraped knees I shall not be in a position to kiss better, dreams he will never chase.

I cry until there's nothing left—until my eyes are dry, my throat raw. 

An ache. Still, then, it doesn't go away. It just keeps on telling me that no matter how hard I fight, I could lose him any minute.

I get to my feet, all shaky, and stand in front of the mirror, there as I look at the face that blinks back at me with now-red, puffy eyes and blotchy-splotchy features from the crying. 

I look like hell, and I don't care. I sprinkle some cold water over my face in an attempt to wash away all the evidence of my breakdown, but it's still there—the hurt, simmering below.

Can't let Jay see me go weak; can't let him know, not for the wide world, that I am so scared, so close to falling apart. 

I've gotta be strong for him, even if it's the hardest damn thing I ever did.

Drying my eyes, I straightened my clothes, slapped my favorite sexy smile on my face, and headed on down to the room we shared. 

I slipped into the room, got into bed with him, pulled him close to smell his shampoo, and the warmth of his little body.

"Good night, sweetheart," I whispered, kissing the top of his head. He stirred a little, burrowed tighter into me; I held him hard, like that would keep him safe.

But in the base of my stomach, I know I'm fighting a losing battle. It freaks the hell out of me, man.

I have no idea when I slept off…