•••
“But Momma, Sammy wants to play!”
“It’s bedtime, baby. Go to bed.” I told my three-year-old son, Sam, who was more eager to push his toy cars across the rug than close his eyes.
“Sammy don’t wanna!” He whined, a little ball of frustration.
“Sammy, do you want Momma to get angry?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips and feigning a stern expression. It was always difficult to muster anger at such an innocent face.
Sam looked up at me with his big hazel eyes and dark brown hair, mirroring my own. Sam wasn’t biologically mine, but he was a perfect miniature of me.
Coincidence, right?
He was the son of my Aunt Mila and Uncle Steve. Aunt Mila wasn’t a blood relative—my mother was an only child—but Mila was her first cousin and best friend. They considered each other sisters, and she was the best aunt I could have asked for, real or not. Five months before Sam was born, Uncle Steve succumbed to lung cancer. He’d battled a long addiction to alcohol and smoking, but he hadn’t fallen into the typical, destructive patterns. He was cheerful, a big teddy bear of a man.
Sadly, a day before Sam’s birth, Aunt Mila was diagnosed with breast cancer. There was a risk of it spreading to the baby, but the doctors assured us Sam would be okay.
I’d always been fond of children, so when I heard the news, I proposed adopting Sam. Mila accepted immediately, not because she didn’t want him, but because she simply lacked the time, money, or energy to raise a child. I completed the adoption paperwork, and the process was finalized the day Sam was born. My parents were surprisingly supportive of my decision, and have been ever since.
He’s Momma’s spoiled little angel. I strived to give him everything he needed—and everything he wanted. My family is comfortable, though not in the “Christian Grey” stratosphere. I can afford Gucci or Chanel once or twice a month, thanks to the generous allowance my parents provide, recognizing that I don't earn much right now. His grandparents, and I, have always spoiled him.
That’s the harsh reality of life: it doesn't matter where you graduated from, you’ll only find a good job if you have working experience, and you’ll get working experience only if you have a job. It's a twisted cycle.
I was nineteen when I adopted Sam three years ago. Now, at twenty-two, I couldn’t be happier with my decision. He always speaks about himself in the third person, an innocent and endearing habit.
I moved to Los Angeles three months ago, after graduating with my bachelor's degree, with my best friend, Matt. We don’t share an apartment—he wanted us to because of his fear of the dark, but I sweetly declined—though he did buy one right next to mine, which I don’t mind at all.
Matt is a year older than me. We met at Yale and have been inseparable ever since. He was a player in high school, though it wasn’t his fault girls threw themselves at him. He was, and still is, devastatingly handsome. Combined with his bad-boy charm, he's irresistible. Ocean blue eyes, light brown hair. Not only is he incredibly handsome, but he’s an amazing cook.
Why haven’t I fallen for him already?
Simply put, he’s gay.
Like any cliché novel out there.
He didn’t fully understand it until college, and before that, he channeled his confusion into destructive behavior.
Using girls like tissues.
Matt is, and always has been, lighthearted and comedic. But out of the two of us, he’s definitely the more polite one. I’m not rude, exactly, but my introverted nature makes even a simple “hi” feel exhausting.
Suddenly, I was pulled from my daydream.
“I don’t like Momma angry!” Sam sniffed, his eyes welling up.
Aww, poor baby.
“Then go to bed, please?”
“Can Sammy sleep with Momma?” He asked in a small voice. He truly *is* Momma’s boy. He can’t even be apart from me for ten minutes, which is why I bring him to my workplace, Mocs’ Café. I was scared my manager, Jenna, wouldn’t approve of me bringing my personal life into work, but thankfully she loves babies.
Being unable to leave Sam alone was the only reason I hadn’t found a decent job. My options were limited to a handful of cafes. My business degree sat uselessly in the bottom drawer of my cupboard.
Also, a question I get asked constantly—why work if I'm so rich?
To become independent. I can’t live off my parents’ money forever. I want to forge my own path, my own life, and even though it would be easy to simply live off their generosity, I chose a different path, a normal path, one where I build something for myself. Matt has been my biggest support in this.
I dislike my parents spending so much money on Sam as if he's an extension of their ego. They already have plenty of expenses, and I don’t want to burden them. As Sam’s mother, it’s my duty to fulfill his needs and wishes. They still shower him with expensive gifts he doesn’t know how to use. What’s the point of gifting a two-year-old a remote-control car?
Absolutely nothing.
I tried explaining this to them, but they wouldn’t budge, so I let it go.
“Of course, honey!” I said, lifting him into my arms. His small head rested on my shoulder as I headed to my room.
I placed him on the bed, pulling the blanket over him and sliding beside him. I stroked his hair, knowing it calmed him. He fell asleep quickly. His tiny hands gripped my bicep as he curled into a ball, like a caterpillar.
Definitely a cute one.
My eyelids slowly closed as I drifted off to sleep.
~~~~
Poke. Poke. Poke.
I felt someone poking my arm, but ignored it, trying to fall back asleep.
Poke. Poke. Poke.
I opened my left eye, annoyed by the disturbance. Sam was standing by the bed in his Superman night suit, his finger poised in the air, mid-poke. His hair was ruffled, and he had sleep crusties in his eyes.
“Sammy is hungry!”
Looks like the little devil woke up before me again.
A sleepy smile formed as I sat up, pulling him onto my lap. I kissed his forehead as he grinned, looking up at me. “What do you want to eat?” I asked.
“Sammy wants pankies.” He said, grinning from ear to ear.
Pancakes are his favorite, so I should have expected that. He can't say "pancakes" yet, so he calls them "pankies."
I stood up, Sam in my arms, and walked to the kitchen. I set him down on the side of the sink. After brushing his teeth, washing his face, and using the bathroom, he wiped his face with a towel and handed it to me.
“Sammy, can you please go to your room and play? Momma will be out soon.” He nodded, running to his toy-filled play area. He's a very respectful son.
Ten minutes later, my mouth no longer tasted like stale food, and my eyes were clear. I walked over to the kitchen and started preparing the pancake batter.
While I set the table, I heard the piercing sound of the doorbell reverberate through the apartment. I opened the door to find Matt standing there, hugging a pillow tightly to his chest, hair ruffled, and dark circles under his eyes.
Looks like someone had a bad dream!
“Enna! You won’t believe what happened in my dream!” He whined, plopping down on the couch.
“What?” I asked eagerly. His dreams were always humorous, and I often looked forward to hearing about them.
“Dracula! Can you believe it?! And he even told me that if I tell anyone about it, then he will kill me. And oh, those scary looks—”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m raising two kids instead of one.” I said, walking towards the dining table and placing the syrup down.
“Aw c’mon! You never believe me!” He said quietly, a hurt look on his face.
I immediately felt guilty, even though we both knew I wasn’t wrong.
“Sorry Mattie.” I muttered, looking down at my feet shamefully.
“Enna..you do know I’m kidding, right?” I simply looked up, not knowing how to respond. I thought he was seriously sad.
“Sienna Jacob Collins! For how long have you known me?” He asked. I was about to say four years when he spoke again. “Your entire life you’ve known me and you still don’t know when I’m joking!”
“Matt, we only met four years ago.” He sighed dramatically, glancing at my confused stare and placing his hands on my shoulders.
“Enna, don’t you know that saying?” I shook my head, growing more and more confused.
“Babe, haven’t you heard the phrase, ‘I’ve only known you for four years, but it feels like I’ve known you my entire life’?”
We chuckled at my stupidity when Sam came running towards Matt. My son absolutely loves Matt!
“Uncle Mattie!” Matt picked him up and whirled around in a circle, causing Sam to burst into a fit of giggles.
“Hey munchkin! How are ya doin’?”
“Sammy is good, but better now that you’re here!”
“Sam, pancakes are ready. Come here, sit with Momma.” I announced, pouring chocolate syrup on his pancakes.
“Hey Matt, do you want caramel sauce?” I asked.
“Aw, you know me so well.” He laughed, sitting down on the chair opposite me.
My apartment is actually a gift from my parents. When I told them about my decision to move out, they decided to buy me this apartment. I attempted to decline the offer, but in the end I agreed.
The apartment is located in the wealthy side of town, so even though it has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a dining room, it was still pretty huge. Matt bought his apartment using his savings of more than three years.
After breakfast, Sam went back to playing with his toys, leaving Matt and me to clean everything. After wiping down the table, we both plopped down on the couch in the living room.
“Matt, I need to find a job with more pay. As Sam grows, he’ll need more. I don’t think I can work at the café forever.”
“You’ve definitely spoiled him, babe.” He jokes, and I shrug, unable to deny it.
“Well, how about applying for some job interviews?” He asks.
“I think I can start searching from tomorrow and hope for the best.”
“You’ll definitely get the job on your first interview!” He says, his contagious smile making me smile.
I can only hope I get a good job quickly. As Sam grows, his expenses will grow too. I don’t want my number one reason to not buy him something to be ‘I don’t have enough money.’
Right now, all I can do is rest and wait for tomorrow.
Fingers crossed.
~
So, the first chapter is here. Like Sienna, my fingers are also crossed. I hope you guys like this chapter and thanks for reading this.
Cya till the next update!