EXCERPT Hakeem stood and I looked over just in time to see him walking out of the living room. I considered grabbing Adam and running, but I had nowhere to go and no way to get there if I did. No children were allowed in the halfway house. If I was going to get custody of my son, I was going to have to find a place to live. It didn’t have to be perfect, Emma assured me, it just had to be safe. I watched Hakeem come back in with papers in his hand. He sat next to me and I wasn’t prepared to feel him that close. I slid away, feeling my pulse quicken. I knew it was a trauma response, not wanting a man to sit next to me uninvited, but I couldn’t stop my body’s reaction. I took another scoot away and looked at him, turning so that he wasn’t behind me. He handed me a sheet of paper, looking over the other himself. I took the paper, skimming it and literally laughed out loud. I had half a mind to toss the paper at him. “Rules? You’re giving me rules?” “Yes.” He said, as if it were the most natural thing. “I’ve already explained that I believe the best think for King is that he has a relationship with both of us. These are the things that I wanted to make clear, that I need us to be in agreement on. I spoke with Emma. If you and I can come to our own middle ground, the judge will likely accept it. I don’t like other people deciding my fate for me, and I would imagine you don’t either. So we’re going to figure this out for ourselves. OK?” His tone was firm, but still so damn gentle that I felt compelled to simply reply, “OK.” He nodded, looking down at the paper. “Good. First things first. I’m acknowledging you as King’s mother and I will always respect you as such. I would like if you gave me the same courtesy.” I stared at him, not sure how to respond to that. He wasn’t his father, and his name wasn’t King. I tried not to get frustrated but I already was. “You’re his guardian.” I said quietly, not wanting his calm resolve to spark into anger. “Yes. But as far as I’m concerned, and as far as he is, too, I’m his father. If we’re going to do this, I would like you to acknowledge and support that.” I looked at him. “I just need some time to think about that one.” “What is there to think about? You said his biological father isn’t present; I am. Your son loves me, calls me ‘Dada,’ and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m sitting here trying to co-parent with you because I don’t want either of us to lose him. You can grant me this.” “I’m not obligated to co-parent with you. He’s not yours. You have no legal rights to him.” “And at this point, neither do you, yet here I am, trying to make this work outside of court because I believe he deserves that; I believe you deserve that. Look at him and tell me you don’t believe I deserve the same thing.” I did look at my son, and I couldn’t deny how happy he looked, how well cared for he was. I couldn’t deny the way Hakeem had altered his home, and probably his life, to make it fit Adam. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t noticed the way he’d held him during court, as if losing him would shatter them both. Adam crawled down off the couch, tired of the iPad and tired of us. I watched him and stood to follow. “He’s fine,” Hakeem assured me. “He can’t get upstairs. He’s probably just going to get his toys.” Ignoring him, I watched my son pad across the living room to the small basket in the corner. He sat down, turning it over, spilling cars, legos, and other random toys into his lap. I sat down, rubbing my knees. Hakeem knew him in a way that I didn’t. That’s what the judge saw when he awarded him continued guardianship. And Adam was happy here. He was comfortable in this house, with this man, and I didn’t want to take that from my son, even if I didn’t want to sit and have this uncomfortable conversation with this man. “Fine.” I said, defeated. He was quiet for a moment and when I looked at him, he gave me a nod before looking back at the paper. “Rule 2, if we’re both going to agree to co-parent, then we have to agree to co-parent. That means we both have to live a life that is in the best interest for him at all times,” He put the paper down, made eye contact with me. “You have to maintain your health. You may not put yourself in dangerous positions. And you cannot leave him. Ever.” “I would never leave him again,” I said, fighting back tears. “Don’t you think I know that?” He nodded. “I do. But I still think it’s worth stating. He needs you around and he needs you whole. You have to take care of yourself.” “You said that already.” I mumbled, looking down at the paper just as I read what Rule 2 actually said, the part that he’d had yet to say. My head snapped up as he looked in my eyes and said, “You may not use drugs or abuse alcohol. And you may not sell your body.” My eyes narrowed. “What I do with my body is none of your business.” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. He didn’t break eye contact, nor did he hesitate as he said, “It is very much my business, Cassandra. And I’m not asking.” I had to look away again, but as soon as I did, I heard his voice call out, “Look at me.” My body obeyed before my mind could even understand why. His eyes are so intense. I found myself lost locked into his gaze, listening to him speak as if in a trance. It was the strangest feeling, and I couldn’t shake myself out of it. “… If there is something you need,” He was saying. “Or something King needs, I’m more than happy to assist. But I mean what I say. You may not sell any part of your body ever again.” Or what? I wanted to ask him, but I also really didn’t want to ask him. I took a small breath, and then forced my gaze away, looking at Adam on the floor. “I’m not good at asking for help.” “You don’t have to ask for help. But selling yourself is not an option.” I looked down at the paper, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Rule 3, I read to myself. Both parents will agree on the name that is most suitable for our son, and will refer to him by that name only. “His name is Adam,” I felt the need to tell him. “The caseworker said you had to give him a name, but his real name is Adam.” “But there’s no birth certificate that states that, correct?” I looked at him, my lips parted in surprise. Are you really gonna fight me on my own child’s name? I wondered but didn’t dare say. This man scared me, but not in the way the men I’d encountered before scared me. There was something else about him that I didn’t fully understand and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to. “I didn’t have a chance to get a birth certificate, but I can do that. I’ll go this week and do that.” “Do you have the money for it?” I sighed, closing my eyes to stay calm. He didn’t ask it offensively, but as if he were sincerely curious. I opened my eyes, focusing on Adam. “I can get the money. I’ll go and apply for the birth certificate this week.” He didn’t say anything, and his silence always made me more uncomfortable than when he started talking. “Where are you planning on getting the money from in such a short period of time?” He finally asked and I rolled my eyes. “From wherever I need to. Hakeem, I’m an adult. I appreciate you taking in my son, but I don’t need this. I don’t need you giving me money for things or… or giving me rules!” I said, slamming the paper down. He just… looked at me with a gaze so steady, I suddenly felt calm. “Yes you do.” I gulped, looking down at my hands. “I don’t have the money for a birth certificate,” I admitted, wanting to sink into the ground. “But I don’t want to lose the name I chose for him.” “What if we compromise? King Adam Sanders. Adam would be his middle name, but his initials would be Kas, as an ode to you as his mother.” My lips parted as I looked at my beautiful baby and placed a hand over my heart. “I… actually kind of love that.” It was the first time I saw him smile. “As do I. And you’re fine with him remaining a Sanders?” I looked at him thoughtfully. “You really want him to take your name?” “Yes.” He said and I chuckled, wondering why I’d even asked. “And your family? Do they accept him as much as you seem to?” “Without question. My mother watches him every day that I work; my brother and his wife spoil him relentlessly, and my sister-in-law cuts his hair every two weeks at no charge. He has a whole Sanders village, and we are all very proud for him to carry on the name.” “Oh.” I breathed, because I’d never thought of how much weight a name could carry. For Adam—King—Kas—it would carry belonging and something he could wear with pride. For Hakeem, being a Sanders meant something, and I loved that my son would get to know what that felt like. “OK,” I said, nodding. “King Adam Sanders. Kas.” His smile couldn’t have been faked as he tipped his head forward. “Beautiful. Thank you, Cassandra. Would you like me to take you to file for the birth certificate this week?” “OK.” He looked back at the paper. “Rule 4 states that we must maintain adequate communication about our son at all times,” He lifted his eyes to me. “Meaning that I should always be able to reach you, and you should always be able to reach me.” I swallowed, knowing what he was saying, but unsure how to handle it. “You’ll have to wait until I find a job for me to get a phone. If you don’t want me making money the way I know how to make it, then it’s not gonna happen quick.” “I thought you might say that,” He said, standing to his feet and going over to the wall that was actually a built-in bookcase. He picked up a rectangular box, then came back to the couch. When he sat, he looked at the space between us and then slid back some, giving me some room. It was such a small thing, such a simple gesture, but seeing him notice my discomfort, and accommodate my preference for space did something to me, and suddenly made me want him closer. He felt safe, and I hadn’t felt safe with a man in… well, ever. He handed me the box and my mouth gaped as I realized what it was. I looked at him quickly. “I can’t pay you for this.” “I don’t want your money.” My eyes narrowed as I shrank away from him. I’d heard men say that to me before, and what followed next usually ended with me bent over somewhere as they took what they really wanted. My stomach lurched as I scowled at him. “Ohhh, I see.” I understood and his brow lifted in an unspoken question. I looked at my baby playing happily in the corner. “Where should we put him? Do you have a playpen or something?” “What?” “I don’t usually work in front of him, but I don’t want to just leave him out here; there’s too much for him to get into. If we’re gonna do this, we have to make sure that he’s—” “—Cassandra, what the hell are you saying to me right now?” The bite in his voice startled me enough to garner my attention and I saw the look of horror on his face. It was odd, because he didn’t typically show much emotion. He all but tossed the phone box at me and it landed in my lap. “I bought you a phone so that we can communicate about our son. I don’t want anything from you except for you to answer when I call or text.” He met my eyes, staring hard at me. “I don’t want anything from you.” He repeated, but I didn’t know if I believed him. “How much was the phone?” “You need a phone. It was a practical investment. If you decide to get one of your own, you may return it to me. If not, it’s yours.” “Oh.” I said, caressing the smooth box, unsure of what to do or how to feel. I wasn’t used to receiving something for nothing, especially not from a man, and for some reason it made me feel… ugly? Ashamed? It was a kind gesture, but the fact that he didn’t want my body as payment made me feel like there was something wrong with me. I ventured a glance at him, having a strong internal need to remedy that. “If you change your mind,” I said slowly. “If you decide that you want me to… pay you back,” I said the words so that my true meaning was undeniable. “I don’t mind.” His jaw clenched as he stared at me, and I saw his throat move as he swallowed. I didn’t know if he was turned on or angry because I could not, for the life of me, read this man. “I won’t change my mind,” He said, and I believed him. “Don’t ask me that again.” I dropped my head, the shame washing over me in waves, sitting on my shoulders like a weight sinking them down. I couldn’t look at him anymore, so I stared at the box in my hands instead. He quietly cleared his throat. “Rule 5 states you will never allow your pride to put yourself or King in a compromised situation.” I rolled my eyes, shaking my head without lifting it. “Isn’t this basically just the same as the other one?” “No. Would you like me to explain the difference?” “I get it. I can’t sell my body. You’ve made that very clear.” “This rule is saying that you may not live in a vehicle with my son. If you’re not going to be living here, then you must secure adequate housing for you both.” I froze, and then looked at him, because I had to make sure I was understanding him correctly. “What do you mean, if I’m not going to be living here?” It was the first time I saw him hesitate. He sat up straighter, placed the paper down and then took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to misconstrue the offer that I’m making. I just…” His mouth worked around the words, and I wondered why this man that was typically so put together was having trouble asking me to move in with him. “I understand how difficult it is, in this economy, to secure a job in a month’s time that would provide enough income for you to obtain housing up to my standards.” That made me laugh. “It doesn’t have to be up to your standards. The caseworker already told me the requirements I have to meet to satisfy the judge.” “Yes, but we’re not dealing with the judge right now. We’re operating based on what’s best for King, and what the court would approve of for my son is in direct opposition to what I believe he deserves. My income won’t support an additional property, but it can support you living here full time, and I have enough room that your privacy wouldn’t be invaded. You could sleep upstairs, in the room right next to Kas. You two would share a bathroom, and you could check in on him as much as you’d like. If you move in this week, you’ll be able to use the address to go ahead and begin seeking employment, which,” He pulled out another piece of paper, handing it to me. “I spoke with the hiring manager at the hospital where I work. They have a couple of positions available that you may qualify for. If you work dayshift, on the days that I work, we could ride into work together.” I stared at the paper with job listings and a website link to apply. But I could barely read the words. My mind was racing, trying to process what he was saying. I looked between the sheet of rules and the job listings feeling like someone was holding my head underwater. I blinked, confused. “So you… don’t want to… to have me, but you want me to live with you?” “I want you to be in the most productive position to be the mother that King deserves. And right now, you need help getting back on your feet. So I’m going to help you. And in six months, a year, after you’ve had time to save and put yourself back together, then you can secure your own housing and we can discuss a visitation schedule that is suitable for all of us.” I still couldn’t look at him. I looked around the house instead, trying to imagine myself living here… with him. “And you don’t want any kind of payment?” “For the phone? No.” My gaze shot to him. Ah. Here it is. Now I’ll get to see the real him. “And what payment is fair to you?” I asked with a condescending smirk. He held my gaze, his face serious. “$200 a month. I’ll place it into an account for you, and when you’re ready to move, everything you’ve saved will be yours, and I’ll be able to write you a reference stating you have good rental payment history. Any place that you move into will want to see that.” Oh… I hadn’t been expecting that. He really had thought this through… and he really was doing this for me. Now I’ll get to see the real him, I’d just thought, and he was showing me exactly who he was. As controlling and maybe even a little narcissistic as I’d first thought he was, now all I saw was his compassion, even if it was wrapped in a hard, unwavering exterior. He continued staring at me as I stared at him, not looking away, just… reading me, searching my face for answers to questions that he didn’t voice. And for some reason, I didn’t feel scrutinized or criticized or even judged. I just felt… seen. I looked over at my baby boy and found myself smiling. Smiling at the idea of being so close to him in a way that didn’t require us to struggle. It would be new for us, but I wanted new for us. I’d thought I’d lost him, and now I’d never have to be without him again… As long as I was willing to submit. To these rules. To this plan. To him. And I couldn’t quite understand yet why in the world I actually wanted to. I looked over the rules once more and figured if I was gonna be living here, they’d all be pretty easy to keep. With a light sigh, I looked at Hakeem, only to find his gaze still on mine. “OK.” I said quietly and then shrugged. “I’ll do it.”