Counting Paths

Chapter 20.

A few days later...
Before Sterling, the bay window was rarely used. Now, for the last week, it's become...a steady area for us. The days Russell are here, he and Sterling, when they're not playing around with Moose or making a mess with games I will never find the point of, are sitting on the seat, leaning against the pillows and glass with a book in their hands. Kevin sits there when he's on his laptop handling his share of work. I bought a wooden tray table for myself. I sit there and work on my share.

I'm sitting there now and I have been for well over an hour.

"Kevin, are you sure this is everything?" I ask on autopilot, my eyes scanning the last few pages of work I just went did.

"Yeah," he answers in his deep voice. I grab everything and put it in a pile, then slide it into an envelope.

Someone sneezes a high and screamy sneeze, and I look up as Sterling approaches me.

"Bless you," I tell her. She nods, her wavy hair falling into her puffy and reddened face. Her eyelids look heavy, they're almost completely covering her eyes and blocking her sight. "Are you okay?" I reach up to cup her face but before my hands can touch her, she quickly shoves them away.

"I'm tired," she says in a hoarse voice. "Can you sleep with me?"

"Yeah." I don't hesitate to say yes. A few days ago, I found out the hard way that Sterling has night terrors every fucking night. She woke up a couple of times screaming and thrashing around violently before I realize she needs me to put the nightmares at ease. She sleeps in my room and because Moose is now her shadow, so does Moose. It's terrifying. I know it's been a short few weeks, but I thought I had accepted this already; my time with Sterling, her strange and sudden and unreasonable feeling of safety with me. But every day, before we go to bed, in the back of my mind, I'm thinking I need to run. I'm thinking this isn't me. I'm not a fucking family guy.

I think all of that, but still follow my gut upstairs. It is fucking terrifying.

"Give me a couple of minutes and I'll be right there," I tell Sterling. I think she nods as she slowly turns and walks away.

Once she leaves the living room and disappears down the hall, Kevin asks, "you let her dress like that?"

I look at him. "What?"

"Don't you think she's showing too much skin?"

Today, Sterling is wearing navy blue high-waisted shorts that are dangerously too high with a black, long sleeve crop top. She goes back and forth between wearing things too revealing and too baggy. Tomorrow she might wear one of my shirts and a pair of my pajama pants, and have her entire body covered up.

I shrug. "I don't care."

"Yeah, but-"

"There are no buts," I almost growl. "I'm not going to shame her for feeling comfortable with herself and with us. The only time I should worry about her wearing something like that, is when I become a fucking pervert and think shit I shouldn't be thinking-so, is that what you're telling me? You're a fucking pervert now?"

"Jesus, no!" He pushes off the couch and stands, facing me. "I have a daughter at home-"

"So what the fuck is the problem with Sterling?"

"Nothing! I just thought...I mean, you lose your mind when she talks about sex-"

"I don't want her talking about sex because she's a kid. It's as simple as that."

"Right...I'm sorry."

There's a few beats of awkward silence, then-

Sterling walks into the living room. "Roland?" I groan softly to myself. How much of that did she just hear? I don't want her to get the wrong idea. "I don't feel so good," she whimpers, holding her stomach.