The Way We Get By

10 // Liam

The bitter chill of the cold air makes me shiver as I rummage through the garage. My coat is zipped up to my chin, my gloves sealed tightly around my wrists, and yet I'm freezing.

Our neighbors have been out of town for the last few weeks, and they've just called to ask if I could shovel their sidewalk.

I don't mind, considering they often babysat Angel and Alex years ago whenever Ramona and I needed a last minute babysitter. What I mind, though, is the fact that I can't feel my goddamn fingers despite the fact that I'm wearing heavy-duty winter gloves that are supposed to keep my hands warm.

Alex was the last one to shovel, and I'm about to go inside and holler at him about where he put the damn thing when I remember it's probably in the back shed.

The honk of a horn makes me suddenly jump out of my skin, and I turn around with a racing heart to see Ramona waiting to pull into the garage. She motions for me to move to the side from inside of her Lincoln, and I do so with arms raised in surrender.

I watch as she pulls into the garage right next to my car, cutting the engine and stepping out. Lucy emerges from the backseat as well, a backpack hanging from her shoulders and a smile appearing when she sees me standing in the garage.

"Hi, Daddy!" she chirps.

She slams the backseat door shut and steps over to give me a hug. I accept it with open arms and bend down to match her height.

"Hey, munchkin."

I kiss the top of her head, thankful for Ramona's skilled nature in talking with kids, especially Lucy. She's like the trauma whisperer, and she somehow managed to make Lucy invoke at least a little bit of trust back into me.

Lucy pulls away and I stand back up. I watch Ramona close her car door once she's collected her phone, keys, wallet, work bag, and all the other things she needs. Why she refuses to get a purse, I will never understand. Too womanly for her, I suppose. But I tell you, if it were socially acceptable for me to have a purse, I'd be all over that shit.

"You got your hands full, huh?" I laugh as I watch her shut her car door with her foot.

"Shut up," she mutters. Her eyes follow Lucy while she heads up the garage stairs and inside the house. "It was a long day today. And I'm still mad at you."

She tries to push past me and head towards the stairs, although I reach out and gently stop her by placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Still?"

"Yes." She wastes no time in swatting my hand away. "You took Alex's phone for no reason. You didn't handle that situation very well last night. So if you'll excuse me, I have to go talk to my son and repair any damage you did."

"Our son," I correct her. I sniffle as the cold starts to bite at my nose and sting my cheeks.

She steps onto the first garage stair before turning back towards me and looking down at me, although she really isn't looking down on me despite having a boost from the stair she's standing on. She's now at the same height as me, and she's clutching her water bottle and keys in one hand as she gives me a glare.

"You've got some selective hearing if that's the only thing you got out of what I just said."

She turns around and practically drags her feet upstairs. Her composure appears sluggish and tired from everything that's been happening lately.

"Ramona—"

"Save it," she deadpans as she opens the screen door. I barely get a glance in my direction as she opens the other, heavier door. "I'm gonna start dinner."