#light believer

The mother bowed her head, letting out a tired moan before turning to him with desperate brown eyes. “Listen Henry... do you see that precious ball of joy back there?”

He nodded.

“That is my two-month old daughter, Lucy,” she explained. “I named her that because she is the light of my life... but that screeching sound that she’s making right now? Well, it was the first thing I heard when she was born and the only thing I’ve heard since. I have been up since 6am yesterday, trying to get her to stop and failing miserably.”

“Okay...”

“The only two breaks I’ve gotten,” she said, talking over him, “were on the cab ride home from the hospital and on the hour-long trip to visit my step sister. Apparently the only thing that soothes is the steady rumbling of a car engine so I... am... begging... you... please just take me around the block. Because I am about to lose my mind.”

Henry stared at her. On closer look he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the spit up on her shoulder, both of them actually. All that combined with the wavering desperation in her voice as she begged him to drive her around the block painted a very visceral picture.

“Okay,” he acquiesced. “I will take around the block a few times. We’ll see how it goes.”

She shut her eyes gratefully. “Thank you. I will give you the best tip of your life, I promise.”

He doubted it, but as he pulled away from the curb with a crying infant and an exhausted mother as his passengers he couldn’t help but feel as though he’d been right to take the fare.

To her credit, the woman was right. They’d barely gone around the block once before Lucy began to settle. By their third time around, she’d gone completely silent and he was sure that she was sound asleep. He gave her two more laps to be sure, and pulled up to their building on the fifth, keeping an eye on her through the rear view mirror.

“Well, I’ll admit that worked better than I expected,” he said, cheerfully putting the car in park. “Think she’ll stay asleep for long?”

Realizing that he was getting only snores in response, his eyes whipped toward his passenger seat, where he saw Lucy’s mother out cold with her head against the window.

“Oh..no, no,” he said, gently shaking her shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

Double checking her reservation, he starting calling out to her by name. “Jacinda... Jacinda it’s time to wake up.”

For all his efforts, Jacinda remained dead to the world and Henry dropped his head to the steering wheel and groaned. God, this was the night that would never end.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the cackling beginnings of a cry began to rise from the back seat. Lifting his head from the steering wheel he looked back, worried, as Lucy started to cry again. Jacinda stirred in the front seat and though he knew it was probably the quickest way to get her out of his car, a part of Henry hesitated to let Jacinda wake up to a crying baby.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.

Rolling, his eyes he climbed into the backseat, placing a hand on Lucy’s stomach as she started to squirm. “Hey don’t cry,” he pleaded, in his calmest voice.

Lucy’s face turned red, as she outright ignored him and started to wail once again.

Henry grit his teeth, unsure of what to do next. He wondered if he should take her out of the car seat. Jacinda probably wouldn’t be too fond of that idea.

Lucy let out another wail and Henry reached for her seat belt buckle. Screw it. Maybe he was just tired but if her mother had the audacity to slip into a coma in his front seat, he should be able to comfort the baby anyway he saw fit.

Cradling her in arms, he tried to bounce Lucy to calm her down. It was ineffective. She squirmed and cried in his arms as he tried to remember what his mother had done when he was a baby. She said he used to read to him and tell him stories. Unfortunately, there was only one that he could think of at the moment.

“Okay Lucy,” he muttered. “The publishers didn’t like this one but maybe you will.”

He started telling her the warped fairy tale he’d been working on the past few years. One filled with redemption and curses, old feuds and two battling mothers. He whispered to her stories of a cursed town filled with miserable characters who had no idea who they were and the young boy who worked to save them. It was a long, twisted, confusing tale (according to the publishers) but Lucy seemed to enjoy it. Listening to him speak, her cries softened and eventually went silent. Her eyes didn’t shut but instead remained focused on him. He’d never had such an attentive audience.

Telling stories to her he didn’t even notice how much time slipped by.

---------

Sleep and rest. Jacinda had long forgotten what they felt like. Every since her daughter was born it’d been a 20 minute nap there and 10 minute break here. She hadn’t truly rested in weeks.

Perhaps that’s why she slept so soundly in Henry’s car. If she’d known it would be the last proper sleep she’d get for the next few weeks, maybe she would’ve felt less guilty but as it was she’d count falling asleep in her Swift driver’s car and leaving her baby to the whims of a stranger as one of her lowest parenting moments.

When she woke up, the first thing she noticed was how rested she’d felt. Her bones no longer ached and her head no longer felt heavy with sleep deprivation. For the first time in weeks her mind was clear was as the sky. That’s probably how the panic moved in so quickly.

Squinting, against the glare from the windshield, she noticed that the sun had started to rise and illuminate the street.

Wait... the street?

She abruptly sat forward in her seat and was jerked back by the seat belt across her chest. What hell? Her head whipped around, as she took in her surroundings. Was she in somebody’s... car?

“Don’t panic.”

She whipped her eyes to the back seat where she saw Henry sitting with her daughter in his arms.

“You’re safe,” he said.

One look at him, and everything came back. He was the Swift driver she’d ordered.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed, frightened. “Why do you have my baby?”

“Because I figured leaving her alone in the car would be reckless endangerment,” he deadpanned. “You fell asleep.”

“I realize that,” she said, embarrassment rising in her cheeks as she glared at him. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I tried,” he laughed. “After the first ten minutes I thought you were legally dead. You were out cold.”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, shutting her eyes and running her hand over her head. Did she really just fall asleep in a stranger’s car with her infant daughter? “Lucy...”

“Is fine,” said Henry. “We’ve really gotten to know each other these past two hours.”

Two hours? “Oh my god!” She jerked away her seatbelt and rushed out of the car. Opening the door to the backseat she held out her arms for her daughter. “Give her to me!”

Henry immediately passed over the baby, and Jacinda sobbed with relief, pulling her close. “Oh my god, baby I am so sorry.”

She looked her over, relieved that her daughter seemed no worse for wear. In fact, she seemed calmer than ever. Not a hint of tears in her eyes.

Henry climbed out of the backseat, pulling Lucy’s car seat with him. He looked her up and down. “I take it you don’t have much help.”

She looked at him, confused. “What?”

“No offense... but you slept like someone who’s doing it all on their own.”

She hesitated, before reluctantly nodding. “It’s just me. I have a roommate who helps as much as she can but she’s visiting her mom this week.”

Henry nodded understandingly, passing her the car seat. “Sounds rough.”

She kept herself from agreeing. She made a promise to herself when Lucy was born to never speak of her as if she was burden. Growing up that was all she’d heard from her stepmother and she didn’t want her daughter to feel the way she had. Instead she just nodded.

“It’s worth it,” she said, looking down at her daughter. “Every minute.”

“I bet,” he mumbled, dropping his gaze. “Listen if you ever need another ride around the block, call me.” He passed her a drab business card. “Hyperion Heights is kind of my territory.”

She let out a small awkward laugh as she took it from him. Henry Mills, FICTION WRITER.

“Fiction writer?” she noticed. “Anything I would know about?”

Henry shrugged his shoulders, opening the door to the driver’s seat. “Ask Lucy. She’s heard all my stories.”

They said goodbye with a nod and a small wave, Henry watching the two of them through his rearview mirror as he drove away, the picture of them sticking in his mind all the way home. After a quick shower, he’d collapse in bed wondering in she’d ever call him again.