The Best of Forevers

by Hargrove, A. M.

  “He doesn’t count. He likes mush too and it’s icky.”

  “Okay, short stuff, I give up.”

  “What’s a short stop?”

  “I called you short stuff, not short stop, but … a short stop is a position in baseball. Do you know what baseball is?”

  “Yep. Daddy watches it on TV. It’s a dumb game.”

  Marin sat straight up in her chair and tapped Kinsley on the arm. “Well, I figured you were a smart girl.”

  “I am a smart girl. Daddy says so.” That earned me quite the reproachful look.

  “A smart girl wouldn’t have called baseball a dumb game.”

  “How come?”

  “Because baseball involves lots of strategy.”

  “What’s stragety?”

  Marin laughed at the way Kinsley pronounced the word and corrected her. Then she checked the time and said, “We have to get a move on here, short stuff. Finish eating and stop asking me so many questions. I’ll explain what strategy is on the way to school. Your oatmeal is getting cold.”

  “Okaaaay.”

  I had to admit, that funky looking woman had a way with my daughter. Kinsley seemed to have taken to her and Marin was comfortable with both kids. But right as I finished that thought, Aaron fired a shot at her, covering her shirt with a healthy dose of oatmeal. Kinsley exploded in laughter.

  “You forgot about that,” Kinsley said.

  I walked over and handed Marin a towel to which she smiled her thanks. “Yeah, I sure did.” Marin dabbed at her shirt, wiping the goop off.

  “You need to angle yourself sort of behind him,” I suggested. “I think he’s in early training to become a marksman.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” she said.

  I drank my protein shake and headed upstairs to shower. By the time I came back down, the house was empty. I was more than a little disappointed I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to my daughter. I made a mental note to let Marin know that was one of my requirements.

  My day consisted of nothing unusual other than my appointment with the psychiatrist, Mike Schellburg, who I was seeing at the end of the day.

  When I got there, we started out with the usual how’s it going.

  And then I told him of my breakdown in Aaron’s room last night.

  “How bad was it?” he asked.

  “Bad enough to bring me to my knees. I cried like a damn baby at the side of his crib. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He’s such a beautiful baby, Mike. And I love that boy. My heart … It’s so difficult. He’s the best baby. Better than Kinsley ever was at that age. Happy all the time. You should see him.” I brushed away an errant tear. At least this was one place I didn’t feel ashamed when a tear or two leaked out of my eyes.

  “What are you going to do about it, Grey?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “What do you want to do about it?”

  Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees. “I don’t know. If I find out the truth, then what do I do if Aaron’s not mine?”

  “I think you know the answer to that.”

  “It’s tearing me apart. Could I still love him?”

  “Only you can answer that. What does your gut tell you?”

  “The same thing it’s been telling me from the beginning. To forget about it. But it keeps nagging at me and it’s driving me nuts. I can’t seem to drop it. I think it’ll keep up until I learn the truth.”

  “Are you prepared to deal with those consequences? Because if you go that route, you may be raising a child that isn’t biologically yours. Will you love him the exact same way you love your daughter?”

  “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Rising to my feet, I paced the room, wanting to throw something. “Why the hell did she have to fuck around on me like that?”

  Mike scribbles some notes on a legal pad, and then says, “No one can answer that except for the one person who’s no longer here. Let’s get back to your feelings toward Susannah. Do you still love her?”

  “No!” And that was an emphatic answer.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Positive. My feelings for her died the day her lover’s wife showed up in my office.”

  “Tell me something. What if Susannah hadn’t died that day? What if you had gotten the chance to confront her? What would you have said?”

  My response is immediate. “I would’ve asked her why, right before I asked for a divorce.”

  “What if she would’ve said she needed a distraction because she felt your marriage had gotten a bit stale. But that she still loved you and wanted it to work? What would you have done then?”

  Once again, there was no hesitation in my response. “Here’s the thing, Mike. Susannah and I talked a lot. There were always two things I would never abide and they were lying and cheating. I’d always been clear on that. So she knew my feelings on the subject. And they haven’t changed. If she were alive, we would be divorced.”

  “And you’re positive about this? There are children to consider.”

  “I’m as sure as there is breath in my body. She carried on an affair that lasted for over two years. How could I have trusted her again? This wasn’t some random one or two night fling. This was a purposeful relationship. No, this marriage would not be in existence today and I can honestly say my feelings for her died right along with her.”

  “Do you feel enough time has passed since her death to allow for you to move on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Grey, you’re still a young man. You need to look ahead. There’s a possibility for future relationships in your life.”

  His statement stopped me in my tracks. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Not at all.”

  “The last thing I want or need is another woman in my life.” The idea left a bad taste in my mouth.

  “You should think of your kids.”

  “I am thinking of my kids. Susannah fucked me over, Mike. Why on Earth would I want to risk that again?”

  “Not all women are like her.”

  “Let’s be clear. Once was enough to destroy any hope of finding another that isn’t like her.”

  He shook his head. “You’re jumping to conclusions. You can’t lump every woman into that category. By doing so, you’d be missing out and so will your kids.”

  “First, there isn’t any possibility of me ever putting my trust in another woman again. Second, I can raise my kids just fine. I would like to change the topic. What should I do about Aaron?”

  “Only you can decide that. But not all women are like Susannah.”

  “Okay, we are having two dissecting conversations. One, I believe all women are like Susannah—liars and cheaters. And two, finding out about Aaron scares the shit out of me.”

  Mike chuckled. “I’ll admit, this conversation chain is strange. One thing at a time. Women first. I disagree. Do you believe your mother is like Susannah?”

  That was in insult. “Absolutely not.”

  “That’s my point. You have to find the right one, Grey.”

  “My mom is from a different era. Things have changed since then.”

  “You have an answer for everything. If you seek, you will find, and you are unwilling to do that.”

  “Exactly. I have no desire to seek. Trust doesn’t come easy, and the last time I tried, I ended up as nothing but a pile of ashes. It won’t happen again. I won’t allow it.”

  “Okay. We’ll drop this for now. On to the DNA. I understand your fears. You don’t have to do anything, you know?”

  “Why the hell does he have to look exactly like his mother?”

  Mike laughed. “Maybe it’s God’s way of giving you an answer.”

  “An answer to what?”

  “To telling you what to do,” he said.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Think about it.”

  “It’s all I’ve been doing. And you know something? You’re not helping much.”<
br />
  He chuckled. “I’m your psychiatrist. I’m not supposed to give you all the answers. I’m supposed to help you find a way to get back on track so you can figure these things out for yourself. My biggest concern is that you’re not suffering from depression and you’re able to function as a parent for your children.”

  “I’d be a liar if I said I was a happy man. But I’m not in the depths of depression either.”

  “I don’t want you hiding in a dark cave somewhere, letting life pass you by. Understand?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  On the way home, my mind kept straying back to Susannah and what she’d done. All those damn pictures I’d seen of her with her lover. It still shook my foundation that she had done it for so long and I had never suspected a thing. My anger over it had lessened. She was gone and I had to get it through my head that there was no use in rehashing this. If she were still here, we wouldn’t be together anyway. My parents were right. I needed to pull my head out of my ass and focus on my kids.

  When I arrived home, the gate was open. I’d have to remind Marin to keep it closed. Even though the community here was safe, I didn’t want to take any chances where the kids were concerned. I drove the car into the garage and grabbed my things. Walking into the kitchen was like entering a war zone. Aaron was screaming his head off, Kinsley was yelling, and Marin stood behind the counter holding a mop, her hair poking out of a messy bun in every possible angle, wearing the most exasperated expression possible.

  “What in the world is going on?” I asked.

  “The dishwasher is leaking everywhere and I’m trying to get it mopped up.”

  “Aaron won’t stop screaming, Daddy.”

  “And why are you yelling?” I asked her.

  “Because Marnie said the fucking dishwasher won’t turn off.”

  Marin’s expression was so comical. She looked like she wanted to crawl into said dishwasher.

  “Okay, polka dot. But you don’t have to scream.”

  I scooped up Aaron and noticed his diaper was full. “He needs changing,” I said.

  “Oh, no.” Marin was clearly overwhelmed.

  “I’ll handle it.” Then I walked to where she was standing and saw the water gushing out. “Did you turn it off?”

  “I tried.” Panic laced her voice.

  “Daddy, Marnie said the fucking thing is broken.”

  “Kinsley, why don’t you go in the other room and let us grown-ups handle it?” It was almost impossible not to die laughing at this scene. “What about the breaker box?”

  Marin looked at me blankly.

  “Shit.”

  “Daddy said a bad word.” She scolds me for shit, but clearly has no idea about fucking.

  “Not now, Kinsley.”

  I jabbed the off button on the dishwasher, but it was no use. “Here.” I handed Aaron to Marin and said, “I’ll turn off the breaker.” I ran into the laundry room, located the proper one, and broke the current.

  “That did it,” she yelled.

  When I came back into the kitchen, water still trickled out, but at a much slower pace.

  “Oh my gosh, I was freaking out and didn’t know what to do. Thank God you came home when you did. I’ll grab some towels to soak this up.” She handed a giggling Aaron back to me. He must’ve thought we were playing. Then she mouthed, “Sorry about the swearing.”

  I nodded. I would’ve kicked the damn thing in. “This is weird. This thing isn’t even two years old.” I stared at the boxy machine as though it were possessed. Then I grabbed my phone, searching for our repairman.

  “Who are you calling?” Marin asked.

  Holding up a finger, I began speaking. “Yes, Ralph? Greydon West here. Any chance you can make a house call tonight? Great. We have a possessed dishwasher. That’s wonderful. We’ll see you in about thirty.”

  “Wow. It sure pays to have connections I suppose.” She reached for Aaron saying, “Here, I’ll go change him now.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll do it. You look like you could use a break.”

  Her eyes widened a bit and she said, “Thanks. I’ll get Kinsley’s dinner started.”

  “What are you making her?”

  “I was going to fix some chicken.”

  “Hmm. That sounds good.” I was pretty hungry myself, but I didn’t want her to think I was asking.

  “You want me to make extra?”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “No. I was going to do it anyway.”

  “Thanks. That would be great.”

  She snapped her fingers. “Oh, but maybe I should wait since that repair guy is coming.”

  “Tell you what. Why don’t we all go out when he gets here?”

  Kinsley jumped up and clapped her hands. “Yay. Can we get pizza?”

  “I think we can.”

  Marin’s hands flew to her hair. “Uh, why don’t you three go and …”

  “No. You hafta come too, Marnie,” Kinsley shouted.

  “I need to shower.”

  “Go. I’ll watch them.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  Aaron started kicking his legs. “You seem to have forgotten something. They’re my kids.” At least one of them is anyway. And it’s time I start parenting again.

  “Right.” She ran out of the room.

  Kinsley tugged on my hand. “She’s fun, Daddy. I want my hair to look like hers.”

  “Okay, polka dot. We’ll have to see about that.”

  “And can I get a bunch of flowers on my arm too?”

  Isn’t this great? Rainbows and flowers. “Maybe one day when you’re a grown- up.”

  Chapter Nine

  Marin

  Scrambling to shower and dress, I did it in record time. My hair was still wet, but as I stared back at my scraggly locks in the mirror, I knew the only hope for them was a messy bun. So I wound them around the elastic and did the best I could. Then I ran back downstairs to the waiting hungry crew in the kitchen.

  “Ready?” Dr. West asked.

  “Yep.”

  We all loaded up in his car, the non-sporty one, which was still a big fancy SUV, and drove off to the pizza place. Kinsley chatted up a storm and it was super weird sitting next to him in the front seat. I couldn’t help but compare my car to his. There wasn’t a speck of dirt or a crumb in sight. Mine looked like it had been infested by a team of hungry toddlers on their break from daycare.

  “Daddy, you shoulda seen Marnie today. She didn’t know how to take me to school.”

  “What do you mean, polka dot?”

  At this point, I wanted to slide under the seat because I knew what was coming.

  Kinsley laughed as she told her dad what happened.

  I pulled into the horseshoe drive in front of the elite prep school.

  “Whatcha doin’, Marnie?”

  “I’m dropping you off.”

  “It’s not how you do it.”

  “Oh?” I was completely clueless. My mom always pulled in front of the school and just let me get out of the car.

  “Only the big kids get to go in like this.”

  “Hmm. Okay. Tell me what to do.”

  “Ya gotta go over there.” She pointed to the parking lot where I apparently had to park. I pulled the car over and did as she instructed.

  “Now ya gotta take me into my classroom.”

  Shit. I looked like death on a stick. “Okie dokie.” That meant I had to get Aaron out of his seat too. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to leave him alone in the car. Better get a move on. As I got out of the car, I noticed I was still wearing my fuzzy bunny slippers. Wasn’t this great. This was sure to make a great impression on these people. Gathering Aaron in my arms, Kinsley took my free hand and we headed for the door. In the meantime, I took a look around the parking lot. It was nothing but a sea of expensive cars. Next to my Toyota Corolla were Lexuxes, Mercedes, BMWs, Range Rovers, Audis, and even an Alfa Romeo. Now I knew I was in trouble—me in my oatmeal-smeared T-
shirt with holes in it, baggy pants, and bunny slippers.

  “Lead the way, my dear,” I said with much more bravado than I actually felt.

  When we got inside, my worst fears came true. Every eye in the place was glued to me. I looked like a homeless woman compared to everyone else.

  “You gotta stop there first,” Kinsley said. She pointed to a glass window.

  I stepped up to it and a middle-aged woman looked down her long thin nose at me and asked, “May I help you?”

  “Yes. I’m Kinsley West’s nanny and I’m here to drop her off.”

  “Hmm.” Her eyes raked over my shirt as I cringed. I wished so badly that Aaron was as large as me so I could hide behind him. “Name?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your name?” She said each word with great precision like I was an idiot and didn’t understand English.

  “Oh. It’s Marin.”

  “I see. Does Marin have a last name?”

  Kinsley started laughing because she thought this whole thing was funny and I suppose through her child’s eyes it was. But this woman was not nice.

  “Yes, Marin does. It’s McLain.”

  “Yes, I see you’re on the list.”

  She was being a bitch. “You can go on.” She leaned forward and said, “Kinsley, honey, you can show her the way.”

  Kinsley swung our joined hands back and forth and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

  Onward we marched. Women stood by and stared. As we passed I heard their whispers. They were all dressed to the nines and I mean the nines. Designer clothing that I probably never would own. Fine shoes and nice handbags. The women greeted Kinsley and gave me withering glares. I must surely smell or have some dreaded contagious disease by the way they acted. But if I cowered, I would let them know they affected me, so I stood ramrod tall and plodded on, smiling with the little girl who was oblivious to it all. When we arrived at her classroom, she took me inside and was so sweet. She happily introduced me to her teacher.

  Mrs. Crawford didn’t quite know what to say to me. She stammered for a long moment until Kinsley said, “I want rainbow hair just like her and flowers on my arm too. I’m gonna ask my daddy if he’ll let me.”

  “I see. Well, Kinsley, why don’t you take your seat so your er, uh, …”