Chapter 3: A Little of Your Time
1036 Words
I wasn’t as rude as he seemed. He held an umbrella over Jasmine and me as we rushed into that remarkable hotel, holding doors open as we entered. I’d almost think he was a good guy.
We barely approached the front desk before he was greeted.
“Mr. Hayes! What a pleasure! I wasn’t expecting you this evening!” the older man exclaimed.
“You’re not alone in that sentiment, Charles,” he smiled at the older gentleman. “Uh, I’m here because this young lady is having a rough go of it. I was hoping to give her a day or two in my suite.”
“Ah,” the man replied, regarding me with pity. I hated pity, but I’d tuck in my frown and put on a smile if it helped my baby get out of the rain. She’d already sneezed one too many times for my liking. No matter how adorable they sounded.
“It’s a pleasure to have you here, miss,” the man said.
I decided right then, despite the pity in his eyes, I liked him. “Thank you,” I whispered, too tired to speak loudly.
“Do you have any things you’d like me to carry upstairs for you?” he asked with a small reassuring smile.
The only thing I had was Jasmine’s diaper bag and a large old satchel with a few clean clothes.
“That’s okay, thank you, though—”
Jasmine’s sperm donor snatched the satchel and diaper bag from me and handed them to Charles. “It’s a bit wet. Appreciate it.”
Charles nodded at me with a small, surprisingly sincere smile before heading off toward the elevator.
“Goodnight, miss,” he glanced down at the baby again and then awkwardly looked away.
“Wait! Please,” I pleaded, slowing him down. From where I stood, I could hear his loud sigh. He turned around, his jaw clenched.
“What?” he asked.
“Please…just give me a moment to explain…why,” I shakily said.
He looked around impatiently. I couldn’t tell if he was afraid to be seen speaking with me or if it was just a force of habit. Nonetheless, he approached.
“Why should I listen to anything else you have to say? Why would I? I think I’ve done quite enough and I've given you more than enough of my time, Ms. Woods.”
“I…I know, but...I just...I don’t want you to think that…”
“Doesn’t matter what I think—”
“But it does,” I interrupted. “It matters for her sake,” I said, referring to my little girl.
He struggled with how to respond. I could tell. I was so selfish for what I was doing, but I couldn’t think about that right now.
“Ms. Woods,” Charles interrupted, “if you’ll follow me.”
I glanced at the man standing in front of me. Jaafar Hayes, that was his name. He was irritated, but I thought I might have convinced him.
“I’ll take it from here, Charles,” he smiled at the gentleman and walked off. I followed but not before nodding a small and grateful thank you to Mr. Charles.
We rode the elevator in silence until we reached the top floor. Immediately, I was awestruck by the beauty. Large windows displayed Boston’s rainy night. The soft off-white walls gave off a warmth I hadn’t felt in a while. It was a fresh, clean place, and I couldn’t wait for Jasmine to experience a bed again.
“Thank you,” I said, overwhelmed by his kindness despite his frustration.
“What is it that you want to talk to me about?” he asked, cutting to the chase.
Jasmine was asleep, so I fought the urge to ask if he wanted to hold her. I bundled her small frame into a corner of a large sofa with an ottoman. She didn’t roll much, so she was safe. Then I faced him.
“You were right,” I admitted. “About how I went about things earlier. I…I shouldn’t have come to you, and I…I never planned on it, but…but things just got so bad and I…I just…I wanted Jasmine to be with someone…someone that…”
“That you can trust?” he scoffed, seeing how foolish my thinking had been. “Because you don’t know if you can, and that’s why you can’t even finish the damn sentence!”
“I-I know that now. I…I guess I was just…so afraid…of losing her that…I thought that giving her to you…you’d at least feel some obligation to make sure she’s safe.”
“Child protective services do that pretty well.”
“Not from my experience,” I quipped. “Life…was hell for me…and I just…I can’t imagine putting her in such a place where she’s at risk of not being loved.”
“And what makes you think I’d love her? I don’t even want her.”
His words were like a sharp nail plunging through my heart.
“You wouldn’t have to,” I said. “Just…make sure she’s safe, until I can get her back. I…this isn’t some permanent solution. I want my daughter…and I know that you don’t. To be honest, I was hoping you wouldn’t want to keep her. It would ensure I could get her back. If I put her in foster care, I-I don’t know what will happen to her.” I sat next to Jasmine’s sleeping form. “You’re an angry man, but you’re also a good man. It was a coin toss of that being the case when I first knocked on your door. That was reckless and stupid of me, but now I know it to be true.” I looked up at him. “I can tell. I’m so selfish to do this to you. I have no right to ask, but…please…please take her.”
He stood there, watching Jasmine for a few moments. Maybe I’d won him over; he’d take her. He had to, right?
I was hopeful I’d appealed to his generous side. Then he finally answered, and my heart dropped.
“No.”
- Writer
