Charlie's Angel

from the beginning [short]

Here I was, not doing much sleeping at my momma's house with my son snoozing on my gut. Jacob had weird sleeping habits: for starters, when sleeping with me or Charlie he always pressed his big head on your torsos to sleep. Not our chests, not our arms, our fucking abdomen. He didn't like cuddling that much, he'd much rather sleep on your stomach and suck his thumb. His thumb was his alternative to his pacifier - which he up and decided one day that he didn't want anymore. He was a character, that's for sure.

I wasn't in a deep sleep anyway, but actually opening my eyes was still a struggle. Jacob's usually up by now and I guess my body was used to that, only this particular morning he wasn't up yet, and he held me hostage since he was where I imagined. I did however slip his thumb from in his mouth in an attempt to break that habit, and that popped his eyes wide open. Though my stomach was moist with his saliva, he smiled up at me and sat up. "Da!"

I couldn't knock the smile off my face, more like a proud grin at his first word. A word I would cherish for the rest of my life. He'd been babbling for months now, but mostly just pointed to things he was referring to. But this, this was his first word. With me, my name. It was surreal, and I damn near shed a tear. "Good morning to you, big man." He wore a white onesie with his thighs out, and he crawled over to me to press his face into my cheek as his form of kissing. It was nothing but slobber, though. "So you just gon' kiss a nigga and not brush your teeth first? That's how it is?"

Most of his saliva on my torso was white as it tried, and I cringed. I could handle anything dealing with babies. But saliva and poopy diapers that smelled like a damn atomic bomb was not on that list. I'd done it once and got that shit everywhere - literally and figuratively.

His curls were a wild mess, and I tousled them before feeling around for my phone. I don't know why I was waiting for a call or even a text from Charlie, but my phone showed neither. During this two month process dealing with the rape allegations, I was forbidden to come home. If I wasn't there to get some clothing or pick up the kids for some time with them, I wasn't allowed anywhere near them. Especially here. Those times I was granted a glance at her, I wished I wasn't that lucky. Not saying I don't want to look at her because I swear I love her, but she was reverting back to old ways. I was watching her wither away into a frail, heartbroken woman.

"You hungry?" I snapped myself from my thoughts and rose from temporary bed, scooping my son into my arms and heading down the hall to the kitchen. Like I knew, my mom was in there mixing the batter for pancakes. "Morning, Ma."

"Morning sunshine," despite the situation, she smiled. She was the only source of happiness around me besides the kids. She knew me, and she knew I would never touch a woman in that way - or any way. She knew to not take sides and let us handle it ourselves, but I'm glad I had her in my corner. The first mention of that word would have any mother run in the other direction. "How'd you sleep?"

"He slept fine," I muttered, passing him to her so I could take over with breakfast. I wasn't interested in talking about me because it didn't matter. I didn't matter. "I nearly drowned in his spit, though."

She sprinkled him with kisses and tickles, and he babbled away happily. "Did my handsome grandbaby sleep okay, huh? Oh, you are getting so big!"

I mixed the ingredients until it was a smooth batter with minimum lumps and stepped back so she could take over again. We traded projects and I reached on top of the fridge for some Cheerios for him to snack on. "He'll be one in two months."

"Are you planning a party? You can't have a one year old without a birthday party!"

I shot her a look from my spot at the kitchen table, and her grin disappeared. "Momma, can we get through this mess before we think about a party? I don't even know what tomorrow holds." I poured some cereal onto the table and sat Jacob on my knee so he could snack a little bit before actual breakfast was served. "She won't even talk to me."