Hold on to Hope

by Jackson, A. L.

  “Are you hearing this?” she asked Josiah in exaggerated disbelief.

  “Loud and clear, Nutter Butter.”

  “You should have seen her face when Evan walked through that door.” She hummed in some kind of morbid satisfaction because her mind going that way was nothing but sadistic.

  Like she was taking some kind of joy in causing me more pain.

  “This isn’t funny, Carly,” I told her, voice starting to tremble.

  She frowned in true sympathy. “Nope. It’s not. But you claiming that Evan isn’t your soul mate is damned near hysterical.”

  My heart clutched all over the place, then it was tipping out onto the ground when I heard the knuckles rapping at the door.

  Milo started barking like mad, scrambled to get on his feet, and trotted for the door.

  “Damn it,” I managed to mutter.

  Carly smirked. Josiah laughed under his breath.

  “That should tell you something right there.” She pointed toward the door.

  I scowled at her from over my shoulder.

  She sure wasn’t gonna make this any easier, was she?

  I crossed the small living space to the door, and I worked through the lock, cracking it open and praying I could act like a normal person and not some crazy loon who was gettin’ ready to lose her mind.

  Heart had gone missin’ a long time ago, so I guessed the ailment was fitting.

  Jack was on the other side, like I’d known he would be, all dark brown hair and thick beard and tattooed sleeves.

  “Hey,” he said in his casual way.

  “Hi,” I mumbled. Even that one word felt like a lie.

  Jack frowned. “Bad day?”

  “You could say that.”

  “She’s spun-up because her best friend, Evan, is back,” Carly shouted from the kitchen.

  I was going to throttle her.

  Jack frowned. “Evan?”

  I forced a bright smile. “Yep. Remember I told you about him?”

  Only I’d barely mentioned him. Unable to speak his name, to confess what he’d meant to me.

  “Guy you’d told me about who took off? The deaf one?” Jack’s voice was edged with hardness.

  I tried my best not to throw the defensiveness I felt right back, wishing that I’d never said a word at all. “That’s him.”

  “What is he doing back?”

  I shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Who knows.”

  Could see he was getting ready to ask more questions, so I cut him off. “You’d better get in here. Dinner is almost finished. I bet you’re starving.”

  Six

  Evan

  Night clung to the walls of my old childhood bedroom.

  A palpable quiet echoed through the space. Stagnant and constricting. Like maybe the air had gotten caught up in a bad dream.

  Held in a single moment of the night that threatened to go on forever.

  It only amplified the silence that screamed through my mind.

  A flood of fear. A torrent of confusion.

  All of it tumbled and mashed and taunted.

  Made me feel like my flesh was suddenly two sizes too small, and I was getting ready to split apart.

  I stared at the ceiling, roughing a hand over my face, wondering what the fuck I was going to do.

  The darkened expanse was only illuminated by a thin stream of moonlight that streaked through the break in the curtains and landed on one side of the room.

  A spotlight directed at the one thing that was important.

  What had brought me back to Gingham Lakes, though I had to wonder if I wasn’t getting drawn back here all along.

  The glow struck down on the spot where we’d placed Charlotte’s old crib that Dad had brought up from where it’d been stored in the shed out back.

  It was the spot where my son now slept.

  Didn’t matter the overwhelming distress and concern that had radiated from Dad.

  Slowed his movements and sent his eyes constantly slanting toward me.

  He’d stayed there. Helped me put it together the first day when I’d gotten back.

  He’d always promised he would support me no matter the situation. Maybe that’s why I’d had to go. Completely remove myself because they would never make that decision themselves.

  Selfless.

  Dread chugged through my veins when I thought about what I might have gotten them into this time, yet I knew I was willing to take the risk, anyway, because how could I not?

  I knew, no matter what, they would stand for family.

  Fear constricting my throat, I sat up and reached over to snag the crumpled letter I’d found in the front pocket of Everett’s diaper bag tonight. I’d been getting him ready for bed after Mom and I had been out running around most of the day picking up things that he would need.

  A letter I didn’t think had been there before, though I wasn’t sure.

  Everything had been so chaotic that night when he’d come into my life, the quick decision I’d made to come here as the dawn had been breaking. I’d grabbed a few things before we were in the car and headed for Alabama.

  I studied the words in the lapping shadows that clawed through the room.

  A whisper. A will.

  A lie. A debt.

  You can run. It doesn’t matter. I will collect.

  A shudder rolled my spine.

  I mean, what the fuck was this bullshit? A joke? Some kind of twisted threat? Some inconsequential thought she’d scribbled on a scrap of paper and then stuffed into the pocket and left it without realizing it was there?

  Only thing I knew was I couldn’t stop the flash of Ashley’s face from blazing through my mind. The way she’d looked that night when I’d opened the door to find her frantic, trembling and shaking, this girl who I hadn’t seen in over two years who was shoving this kid into my arms.

  A kid I’d never seen.

  A kid who looked exactly like me.

  The sheer terror in her eyes, the way she’d met mine with a plea.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I swear I never meant for this to happen. I . . . I . . . Take care of him. Please.” Her hand flew over her mouth and tears raced down her cheeks.

  “Ashley,” I’d shouted as she’d turned to flee, no clue how to even hold the child in my arms, the weight of him foreign.

  She whipped around to look at us from over her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  Two seconds later, she was gone, and I was suddenly a dad.

  We already had plans to contact an attorney tomorrow.

  Dad suggested it was the best way. Track her down and figure out what her intentions were. Get the gist of what her frame of mind was when she left him.

  Of course, that meant I had to decide on what my intentions were, too.

  Where I stood.

  Long term.

  Forever.

  That and we had to get him immediate testing.

  Nausea coiled in my stomach, this sickness I would never outrun clawing and ripping, like I could feel the rise of the disease that lived inside.

  My teeth gritted, and I scruffed a hand over my face to break up the disorder. So I could see through the turmoil to the one thing that mattered. I pushed to my feet and eased over to the crib, this crazy feeling running a circuit through my body.

  A connection like I’d only ever experienced once before in my life.

  Knew firsthand how dangerous it was.

  How that feeling could destroy.

  The destruction that came when the bond was severed.

  Warily, I peered down into the crib.

  Everett was face down, his knees tucked up under him, his butt in the air, his little hands fisted in the sheets. Mouth moving like he was sucking something.

  Affection and fear pulsed.

  I couldn’t distinguish one from the other. Or maybe they were one in the same.

  Intense.

  Unrelenting.

  Like a fist was driving itself rig
ht into the middle of my chest and tearing out my heart and giving it to this kid.

  But that’s what this was, wasn’t it?

  The sudden awareness that I’d give him my life.

  Whatever bullshit his mother had gotten herself involved in? I was going to make sure it didn’t affect him.

  That he would be safe.

  Guilt stalked through my insides like a monster preying on the innocent. The selfishness of those nights. The way I’d been overcome with the desperation to do anything to erase the loneliness that had howled and begged.

  Like fucking some other girl was going to erase the pain.

  Blot out the loss of Frankie Leigh.

  Fill up the vacancy.

  Because of it . . . I’d done this.

  I stared down at this child. Heart seizing in my chest, I sent up a thousand prayers that I hadn’t condemned him to the same life I’d endured.

  That he would be spared.

  That he hadn’t inherited this curse.

  Consumed by it, I reached into his crib and picked him up, needing to feel his weight. The little motion-activated light Dad had set up to draw me from sleep in case he woke up in the middle of the night flickered to life in a dull haze.

  Only thing it did was light up his cherub face.

  These fucking chubby cheeks and double chin that I had the overpowering urge to kiss.

  He barely stirred, just snuggled deeper into my hold.

  I carried him back to my bed.

  Lay on my back with him nestled on my chest.

  His little heart thrumming its life beat against me.

  I wrapped my arms around him.

  Held him tight.

  And for the first time in days, I actually slept.

  * * *

  “Okay, big man, this is going to be a little cold.” Dad pressed the stethoscope to Everett’s bare chest, kid without a shirt with all his adorable jelly rolls pudging out over the top of his diaper.

  I cringed the second the metal hit his breastbone. Struggled to breathe. To slow my pulse that was beating mad.

  Was pretty sure I was two seconds from passing right the fuck out.

  Dad glanced at me in worry. “It’s okay, man. Just . . . take a seat. Relax.”

  Relax.

  That was not going to happen.

  “I’m good,” I told him.

  “Good, huh?”

  YUP, I signed.

  Dad studied me for a beat before he turned his full attention back to Everett and his eyes dropped closed.

  Listening intently.

  Everett was grinning, grabbing at the tubing, tugging hard and thinking it was some kind of fun game when he managed to yank out one of the earpieces from Dad’s ear.

  “You are a little stink bug, aren’t you?” Dad teased, poking him in the belly.

  Chubby legs kicked all over the place, his joy spilling out.

  Dad reached over to grab a plastic toy from the desk that was some kind of bug that hung from a short string, its body made of rattles. He dangled the decoy in front of Everett’s face.

  “How about this instead? Look how awesome it is . . . a little grasshopper . . . just like you.”

  Those full lips of his puckered in a little ‘O’ and his eyes shined with glee.

  Dad tapped it to his nose.

  Everett threw his head back in a fit of laughter.

  “Boink. Got you,” Dad said.

  Everett grabbed it from him and held it up like a prize in his little fist. “For Ehvie! Ehvie, please.” Everett nodded this emphatic little nod that left me a puddle on the floor.

  How the hell was the kid so damn cute?

  “Yours? That’s mine.” Pure affection radiated from my father. His gentle care so clear as he distracted my son from the exam. Made him feel comfortable and safe.

  Dad had practiced here at Gingham Lakes Children’s Center since he’d come into mine and Mom’s lives.

  A room almost exactly like this one had brought us together.

  Our paths crossing.

  Colliding.

  My dad was probably the best doctor in Gingham Lakes.

  Caring.

  Intuitive.

  Didn’t think there was anyone else in the world I would trust with Everett.

  Still, I felt sick.

  Legitimately sick.

  I hated these fucking rooms.

  Hated them with every fiber of my being.

  Hated the needles and the fear I could feel creeping across my skin, the memories of the pain I’d suffered through.

  Loved them the same.

  Because if it weren’t for exam rooms like this, I wouldn’t be here today.

  Could feel the squeals of laughter Everett was exuding, could feel the warmth in the murmur of words that Dad spoke to him.

  Moments like these were when I really wished I could hear.

  Wished that I could hear Dad tell me he was completely fine.

  Tell me he didn’t inherit the scourge from the family I didn’t want to be a part of.

  The illness that came from my biological father’s side of the family.

  My aunt had died from it.

  Chances were that someday I would, too.

  I almost scoffed at the memory of when the attorney had shown up at my apartment here in Gingham Lakes about a year before I’d left, the knock at the door that had let me know I’d inherited five million dollars.

  My estranged grandfather had passed.

  Wasn’t like he wanted to take care of me after he was gone. Hell, his son, aka the piece-of-shit who had fathered me, had wanted me dead.

  My congenital defects nothing but a blemish on their superior blood line.

  What bullshit.

  Only reason I was still breathing was because my mom and Kale had been willing to fight the fight. To war and contend.

  Refusing to stop until they’d brought the corrupt into the light.

  Once my father and grandfather had been exposed, the will had been rewritten.

  I hadn’t wanted anything from either of them, but there it was, my bank account now boasting so many zeros I doubted I could spend all of it in my entire life.

  Had to admit right then, I was thankful I had that cash. Didn’t matter where it’d come from.

  Dad sat back, swiveling around in the low wheeled stool he sat on, his hand still on Everett to make sure he was safe.

  “From where I’m sitting, his exam is completely normal.”

  Relief hit me hard.

  YOU’RE SURE? Couldn’t help but go back to my first language, signing like instinct.

  Dad wrapped the stethoscope around his neck. “Going to talk to you man to man, Evan. As a doctor to a parent. All of this is preliminary. Basic. But right now? This second? The only thing I can see is that he is a healthy sixteen-month-old boy. Fiftieth percentile for height and ninetieth for weight. You might need to put him on a diet.”

  The last was a tease.

  Felt like deliverance that sloshed through my bloodstream.

  I sank down onto the chair.

  “Thank God,” fell from my tongue in a slur as the weight I’d been carrying since the second I’d had Everett in my arms lessened a fraction.

  Dad touched my knee to get my attention. “Hey, Evan. Need you to hear this.”

  I held up a finger for him to give me a second, and I stood up and moved for Everett where he was swinging that toy all around.

  What I needed right then was to wrap him up and hold him close.

  I pressed my lips to the back of Everett’s head where he sat facing out on my lap.

  “He’s beautiful, Evan.” For a beat, the white coat was gone, my father in its place. His eyes warm and brimming with the faith he’d raised me with. “Beautiful. I can’t believe I have a grandson.”

  Dad lifted his hands to sign, like he needed to be direct, ensure that I was understanding what he was saying. IF HE CAME IN HERE WITHOUT YOUR FAMILY HISTORY?

  I nodded understa
nding, my heart going spastic at the reference.

  The curse.

  I WOULD HAVE NO CONCERNS. I’D BE CONFIDENT HE WAS ONE-HUNDRED PERCENT HEALTHY, he continued, hands moving distinctly, emotion packed in the emphasis. I’D CLEAR HIM AND SEND HIM HOME AND SAY TO FOLLOW UP FOR HIS EIGHTEEN-MONTH WELL-CHECK.

  More relief.

  Dad leaned forward a little more, the rhythm of his hands growing more forceful.

  RIGHT NOW, I’M NINETY-NINE PERCENT SURE THAT IS THE CASE. BUT BEFORE WE CAN COME TO THAT CONCLUSION, HE HAS TO HAVE A COMPLETE GENETIC WORKUP. IT’S THE ONLY WAY WE CAN BE CERTAIN HE DOESN’T HAVE THE SAME DEFORMITIES THAT YOU WERE BORN WITH.

  Dad’s throat tremored, and I could see his own ghosts and demons simmering deep in the well of his eyes.

  BECAUSE OF YOUR MEDICAL HISTORY, I’D ALSO LIKE HIM TO SEE THE PEDIATRIC CARDIOLOGIST.

  It was instinct.

  The way I hugged Everett fiercely.

  Like if I held him close enough, I would never have to let him go.

  Dad watched me with pure hesitancy. “Do you have any of his prior medical records?”

  Regret shook my head. NO. THE ONLY THING SHE LEFT ME WITH WAS A DIAPER BAG.

  That and a car seat she’d left sitting outside the door.

  “All right . . . we’ll just . . . go about this the best that we can. Hopefully the attorney can track her down quickly. Get the judge to order temporary custody so you can sign to obtain his records.”

  That was a worry, too.

  If the state would come in and snatch him up and place him in foster care.

  Deem the situation too chaotic.

  My care unfit.

  I’d already given a blood sample this morning so I could at least prove paternity before we got the law involved.

  The attorney said that was the first step.

  Then getting me on his birth certificate.

  The rest of it would have to go from there.

  “He needs us to do the best that we can for him, Evan.”

  “I’ll do absolutely anything. I just . . .” Misery twisted my brow in a plea. “How am I supposed to be a father when I have no fucking idea if I’m gonna be around?”

  Grief streaked through Dad’s expression. “None of us gets the luxury of knowing that, Evan. Not one of us. And I know your situation is different, but being a father is giving your child every single one of your days. However many of them there are. That’s what matters.”