by Parker, Ali
“Okay,” Marie said. “I’m about five minutes down the road. See you soon.”
“The front door is unlocked. Just let yourself in.”
When I got off the phone, I made Marie her cup of tea and took four frantic minutes to finish the tidying in the living room I never got around to this afternoon; folding the blanket, fluffing the pillow, the basics. Then I flicked on the gas fireplace for a cozy atmosphere, turned on the stereo in the corner and set it to a low volume, and waited for my friend to get there.
By the time her headlights lit up my front window when she pulled up to the curb outside, my stomach had curled up into a tight little ball and was sitting heavy in my gut. Something was wrong. I could feel it. This wasn’t just a nice little house call because she happened to be in the neighborhood. She was coming here with a purpose.
I prayed everything was all right as I watched her pass through the gate, latch it behind her, and make her way up the path to the front door.
I met her at the threshold.
“Hey,” she said, one hand tightened around the purse strap on her shoulder.
She seemed nervous. Unsure.
“Come on in.” I stepped aside, offered to take her jacket, and hung it on the hook by the door. Then I led her into the kitchen where I handed her the cup of tea I’d just made.
She closed both hands around the ceramic glass and breathed in the steam. “Thanks.”
“Shall we get comfortable?”
Marie followed me into the living room. We both took up opposite corners on the sofa, me claiming the one closest to the fireplace. The fan hummed softly, barely audible over the soft music playing over my shoulder.
“How’ve you been?” I asked. “How are you feeling?”
Marie ran a hand absently over her still flat belly. “Feeling good. I’ve had a couple mornings where I wake up nauseous, but nothing serious. The doctors say I’m in a really good place. I just can’t wait to get our first ultrasound and see this little guy or gal. The anticipation is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”
I smiled, recalling all the nerves and excitement I’d felt when I was pregnant with Linden. “There is no match for it.”
Marie smiled. “John is worse off than I am. He can’t stop preparing. Planning. You should see how many ideas he’s blown through for the nursery already.”
I chuckled. “I can only imagine. Has he settled on one yet?”
Marie shook her head. “I’m pushing for a soft gray, but he wants something colorful. Of course, we still have to settle the most important debate.”
“Which is?” I sipped my tea.
“If we’re going to find out the sex before the baby comes.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Really? You’re considering leaving it a mystery?”
“I’d like it to be a surprise. But John, you know how he is. He wants to know ahead of time so he can plan everything just right.”
“Light gray works.”
“That’s what I said! But he’s stubborn.”
“Well, what does he want?”
“Purple for a girl. Yellow for a boy.”
I shrugged. “I like those, too. Not the traditional blue or pink, but still fun and bright. What if you compromise? Light gray walls and then one color accent wall by the crib or something?”
Marie blinked at me. “Now, why the hell haven’t I thought of that?”
I giggled. “Well, to be honest, you have your mind on other things besides paint colors.”
“Fair. But that’s brilliant. I’m going to go home and tell him that.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. I was glad I could help, but I had the feeling this was just one of those warm-up conversations that led to the real meat of the visit. I didn’t want to sit around waiting, so I shifted in my seat to get more comfortable. “Marie?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t think me being rude, but I have to ask, is this just a random visit? Or is there something specific you’re here for?”
Marie licked her lips, and her eyes shot to the fireplace.
So, I was right. There was something she wanted to talk about. Something that was making her uneasy.
I put my tea down on the coffee table. “It’s all right. I’m willing to talk about anything. You’re just… you’re making me a little nervous. Is everything okay?”
She nodded. “It is… it’s… it’s not about me.”
“Oh?”
“It’s about you.” Her eyes slid back to me.
“Oh.”
Marie put her tea down as well and then ran her hands up and down her thighs. “There’s been something I’ve been thinking about since you moved back, and I can’t shake it. I can’t even talk to John about it because I don’t know how he’d feel about it if it was true. And if it is true, I’d be putting him in a bad position by asking him not to say anything about it.”
My eyebrows were drawing closer together on my forehead. I could feel the furrowed frown in my skin. “Marie, what is this about?”
“It’s about Jace.”
“What about him?”
“And Linden.”
My skin went cold.
Marie studied me coolly, her expression unreadable for a solid five or ten seconds. Then she let out a wary sigh. “I knew it.”
There were no words coming to my aid. My throat was dry, my palms sweaty, and my mind racing a mile a minute. How did she know Jace was Linden’s father? How long had she known? And more importantly, if she knew, who else knew?”
“Marie, I—”
“I can’t believe this,” she whispered, rubbing her temples with her forefingers. “Emelia. This is insane. You knew all this time? And you were fine letting Jace believe Linden is some other man’s son? That isn’t right. That’s… that’s…”
“I know.”
“Apparently, you don’t because you and Jace are getting all chummy chummy, and he still has no idea he has another child.”
A lump formed in my throat. “I’ve been waiting for the right time.”
“That’s a shitty excuse and you know it.”
She was right. Of course, she was right. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you saying sorry to me?” she asked. I couldn’t tell if she was angry, disgusted, or shocked. Maybe it was a balanced combination of all three. “I’m not the one you owe an apology to. Jace doesn’t deserve this, Em. He’s been through enough shit this last year, and he’s finally back on track with Paxton and his own life. I know things have been hard for you, too. And I know he’s a good guy. And I know you care about him. But what you’re doing? It’s completely unacceptable.”
I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek and nodded as I fought to keep the tears at bay. “I know.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
My bottom lip trembled.
Marie moved to sit on the middle cushion right beside me. She put her hand on my knee and let out a sigh. “Em?”
I lifted my gaze to meet her steady stare.
Her expression softened. “I love you. And I love Linden. And I love Jace. I want this to work out for you. But the longer you wait, the worse this situation will become. You have to tell him. And you have to tell him soon. Okay?”
I nodded.
She pulled me in for a hug that I desperately needed, and I leaned into her shoulder and tried to hold back my sobs. All the grief and guilt I felt at myself for hiding this from Jace came rushing to the foreground. “He’s going to hate me.”
Marie held me tighter. “Maybe.”
Chapter 31
Jace
Paxton tugged at the belt hanging loosely from his hips and then slid his plastic gun into its plastic holster.
I grinned. “You look good, kid. Like Clint Eastwood.”
“Who’s Clint Eastwood?”
“Never mind.” I waved my hand. “You look like a real American cowboy. A ruler of the Wild Wild West. A no nonsense, stick ‘em up, straight shooter.”
Paxton just blinked at me, not understanding a word I said.
I chuckled. “Where’d you leave your hat?”
“On the bed.”
“Go grab it. Emelia and Linden will be here any second.”
Paxton hurried to his room to retrieve his hat, and I snickered to myself. I’d lied. He didn’t look like Clint Eastwood. He looked like a Pixar cartoon voiced by Tom Hanks.
He was still in his room grabbing his hat when there was a knock on the door. I took a look through the peephole and found Emelia and Linden instead of Trick or Treaters. Behind them was a slightly older couple, probably in their late sixties, holding hands.
Emelia’s parents, I assumed.
I opened the door to have Linden bellow, “Trick or Treat!” at me.
I laughed. “Sorry, sport. I don’t have candy this year since nobody is home. Save that energy for the next house, though. I’m sure they’ll give you a ton of candy. Nice costume by the way. Super cool. Are those swords on your back?”
Linden did a full circle, showing me the plastic blades slid into the back of a fabric wrapped around his waist. It looked like a very inexpensive cummerbund made of cotton and spandex.
“Very cool, very cool,” I mused.
Then my attention went to Emelia.
She’d dressed up, too.
She was wearing a long black dress and a witch hat. Her makeup was dramatic and all blown out with dark purple on her eyes and black on her lips. She’d powdered her face with something very light, making her complexion look very pale.
She did a little curtsy for me. “What do you think?”
“Spooky.” I chuckled.
She looked me over. “No costume?”
“I don’t do Halloween.”
“What?” she asked sharply. “You don’t do Halloween?”
“Costumes aren’t my thing.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Poor sport.” Then she put her hand on Linden’s shoulder. “Will you go grab Paxton? Then the four of us can go.”
Linden shot off down the hall into Paxton’s room. We could hear the two boys laughing as they met.
“Jace, these are my parents, Liz and Robert.”
Liz and Robert both stepped forward, and I shook their hands. Emelia’s mother was a classy-looking woman. She was wearing a sparkly black top, dark jeans, comfortable walking shoes, and a pair of dangly earrings that took me a minute to realize were giant spiders. Robert was dressed in a black polo shirt and jeans and was fully bald with a thick moustache.
“Nice to meet you both,” I said.
“You too.” Liz smiled. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope.”
“Mostly.” Emelia winked.
“What on earth is taking these kids so long?” Emelia asked, stretching up to the tips of her toes to peer over my shoulder. “Boys! Let’s go! You don’t want all the candy to run out, do you?”
My neighborhood was ideal for Halloween. There were tons of kids out and about in costumes ranging from epic to embarrassing, and the vibes were positive. There were no rowdy kids and no kids too old to be out Trick or Treating with the youngsters. Everyone was in high spirits, and when young kids like ours went up to front doors, parents stood at the curb and talked about how tired they were and how all they wanted to do was go home and put their feet up.
But in reality, we all had to go home and inspect our children’s candy.
Praise the twenty-first century.
Robert and I laughed every time Linden and Paxton were startled at a door by a hiding homeowner, hellbent on scaring kids. Emelia and her mother would scold us, but it didn’t stop us from getting a good chuckle out of it each and every time it happened.
Robert and I dared the kids to go up to one particularly spooky front door. Paxton flat out refused, while Linden flirted with the idea. He edged closer to the start of their driveway, which had been converted into a course the kids had to follow in order to get to the front door to claim their prize: a full goody bag of chocolate bars and candy.
The driveway was lined in tables covered in black sheets or tall pop-up walls that forced the kids to go through a short maze. The screams that came from behind those walls were, in my opinion, hilarious. There were a couple other fathers nearby who were getting just as many laughs as I was while Emelia helped Linden decide if he was going to go for it.
“I don’t know,” he was saying, toeing the edge of the driveway with his black sneakers.
“It’s up to you, champ,” she said. “You know it’s all fake. You know it’s just people. And you know it’s just for fun. Right?”
Linden nodded. “But it’s still scary.”
“You’re absolutely right. If you don’t do it this year, there’s always next year.”
That helped him make his decision. He opted not to go through the driveway of horrors (much to my dismay), and we moved on to the other less terrifying homes.
We didn’t start making our way back to my house until close to nine o’clock. Emelia and her mother walked up ahead of Robert and me, while the kids took the lead, both staring into the baskets of candy and trading things they didn’t like for things they did.
“Paxton is a good kid,” Robert said.
I slid my hands into my pockets. “He is. And meeting Linden has been a good thing for him. Just a few weeks ago, this night never would have happened. We would have stayed in, watched a movie, and eaten candy I bought at the store.”
“Hardly sounds like a Halloween at all,” Robert noted.
“I know. But he’s shy. Not with Linden, though. The two have become fast friends.”
When we got back to the house, Emelia came back to my side. She bit her bottom lip. “My folks are going to head home with Linden. Can I stay a little bit? I want to talk to you about something.”
“Of course. I have to sort through Paxton’s candy after he goes to bed. I could do with the company.”
She nodded.
Something seemed off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something in her eyes, something that made me worry. She said goodbye to Linden and told him she would see him soon, and then he and his grandparents made their way down the sidewalk. Paxton, Emelia, and I went into my house, and Paxton indulged in a couple pre-inspected candies before getting ready for bed.
About half an hour later, when he was sound asleep, I poured all his candy out on the living-room floor and sat down cross-legged to sort through it all.
Emelia sat down across from me, and we started sifting through, peeling back wrappers, and doing a thorough inspection of his haul. The good candies were put back in his basket. A few candies were left out. Not because they had something obviously wrong with them, but because we couldn’t be sure, and neither of us were willing to take risks.
No good parent was.
“So,” I said, dropping the last candy in the basket, “what did you want to talk about?”
Emelia frowned. “It’s something I should have brought up before we started seeing each other.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. Where was this going? What would she have wanted to bring up earlier?
She wouldn’t make eye contact with me. “I don’t even know how to say this.”
“Just say it.”
She finally met my eyes. “I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” My stomach rolled over.
“I’m afraid you’re going to hate me.”
“Emelia,” I said, going to my knees and half crawling across the carpet to sit beside her. “There’s nothing you could do that would make me hate you. I promise.”
“You haven’t heard what I have to say.” Her bottom lip trembled, and her eyes were glassy.
What could possibly be so bad that it would bring her close to tears? Had she done something?
She was scaring me, but I didn’t dare say that aloud. I didn’t want to make this any harder and risk her not telling me at all. Whatever it was, it w
as big, and now that it was half out in the universe, I needed to know what it was.
No matter the consequences.
“Emelia,” I whispered. “Please. Don’t leave me hanging like this.”
She nodded and swallowed a couple times to collect herself. Then she turned to face me squarely. “Six years ago, when I met you at John and Marie’s wedding, I wasn’t in a good place in my life. I was lost. And I was making bad choices.”
“Okay.”
“And I made a bad choice that night.”
My heart hammered in my chest. “What do you mean?”
Did she think hooking up with me was a mistake? What did that mean for us now? Did she still think hitching her wagon to mine was a mistake? Was she going to break up with me before we even really got started?
Please don’t let it be that, I thought desperately.
Emelia chewed her bottom lip. “We didn’t have protection that night, you remember. And I… I wasn’t on birth control.”
“I—”
She held up a hand. “Please. Don’t say anything. Let me finish. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to say it all. I didn’t have birth control. And I didn’t think something could ever happen to me. I was young. And foolish. And… and I got pregnant.”
My head spun.
“With your child,” she continued.
The room slid out from under me.
What?
Emelia’s tears flowed freely now. “Linden.” Her voice came out in a ragged gasp. “Linden is your son, Jace.”
Chapter 32
Emelia
Jace had turned white as the sheets the kids were wearing to complete their ghost costumes outside. A good two minutes had passed since the words “Linden is your son” came out of my mouth, and he’d yet to say anything. Or move. He’d simply sat there, hands slack in his lap, eyes glazed over, lips slightly parted. He blinked a handful of times, but that was all.
“Jace?”
His brow creased. “How could you not tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t know how.”
“Didn’t know how?” His gaze flicked to me and hardened. “I’m sorry, Emelia, but that seems like a sorry excuse. You had six years to say something. Six years.”