Chapter Two - BeckyI had made up my mind. I had been single-handedly looking after Jessica for every waking hour for nearly two full weeks. Dean seemed barely aware of her existence. He didn't even know that she was allergic to peanut butter! I would be damned if I was going to become a live-in nanny doing all the work while he sat in his home office doing lord knew what.
I had a sneaking suspicion he might have been jerking off. Why else would he keep the door locked? Though I did occasionally hear guitar riffs when I would go up there to ask for help with something—usually directions through this labyrinthine of a building.
Plucking up my courage, I marched up the three flights of stairs and stopped short in front of the office door. A quite elaborate Heavy Metal riff came to its end. It sounded like Drangonforce. I didn't know he liked Dragonforce. Dean had struck me as a classical and opera sort of guy. Though that could have been my own assumption based on his house and his clothes and such. Maybe he was the black sheep of his blue blood family. Every family had its skeletons. It sure would explain a lot if Dean was among that inglorious number.
Shaking my head, I lifted my fist and gave a quick, hard knock on the ivory white, gold-trimmed door. I tried not to gag thinking about the cost of each door and how many there were in the house.
I was sure I had left my socialist tendencies behind me back in college. Though there was nothing like actually living with the bourgeoisie to bring up the pro-union firebrand, my mother had raised me to be—not exactly being a shrinking violet herself. She did what she wanted when she wanted, part of how I came into being, and taught me to hold the same value on personal freedom. As well as the courage to stand up when I saw something that I thought was wrong.
“Yeah?”
I went into the office without any further conversation, marching up to Dean’s desk and crossing my arms. My conviction resolute.
“You have to take care of your niece. I miss my mom want to go and stay with her during the lockdown,” I said, as sternly as I could muster.
He blinked at me. “But you have to take care of Jessica. What will happen to Jessica if you are gone?” Dean asked, making a pathetic attempt to tug at my heartstrings.
“I'm sure you'll muddle through. She's toilet trained and doesn't even throw her spoon at lunch anymore. I think that was mostly a game anyway. She'll go right to sleep if you read her a story first.”
“I'll pay you double,” Dean said, not letting it go.
“No. That's not good enough. You are her legal guardian and the only family she has left in the city right now. You need to be with her. She-she's having a tough time.”
“Triple,” Dean said, as though he hadn't heard a word that had just come out of my mouth.
How could he be so cold?
“No. I can't. I love Jessica and have liked helping, but that's what I was for. Help. I can't raise her myself. I'm not her mother. I'm not even blood!”
“Quadruple.”
I looked at him closely. Dean’s expression was blank. I could have sworn his deep brown eyes were glassy. It was almost as if he was meditating with his eyes open. Something I was pretty sure was impossible. He wasn't listening. At least not to all of it.
“No. You aren't getting it. It isn't about the money. It is what is best for Jessica. That little girl is hurt and confused, she needs her family. It won't do her any good to have me be the only one she sees regularly.”
He didn't move. His eyes still stark. Like he was trying to turn off his feelings. The ones he was feeling hurting too much.
“You want more?” he asked, using his Master of the Universe voice I was sure greatly impressed his underlings at work.
“Yes, in a way. I will stay with you, during the lockdown, on one condition.”
“Name it,” he said distantly.
“You spend one afternoon per week with Jessica. The whole afternoon. From one to five. No excuses. No exceptions.”
I actually saw Dean flinch. I didn't understand it, but the idea of being alone with his niece seemed to be causing her uncle physical pain. I had just started for the door to leave, probably for good when Dean sprang to life, like waking from a dream.
“Wait!”
I stopped and turned back. Ready to listen but also prepared to walk out at a moment's notice if he said anything I didn't like.
“I'll do it.”
“You will?” I asked, surprised he had caved so easily.
“Yes. Four hours. Every Saturday. Alone with Jessica. You wouldn't be able to go home, of course, but we'll go to a different wing of the house, so you don't have to be involved at all.”