"Did you do the back also?" he asks, and my eyes roam the backyard again, hoping to see Hazel there, but I don’t.
"We did around the deck," I tell him. “But that deck in the back is rotten. I’m surprised no one has gone through it."
"Shit,” he says. “That’s what I thought when I saw it." He nods at me and turns to walk away.
"Hey, Grandpa." I stop him, and he looks over at me. “What’s the story with Sofia?"
"What do you mean?" he asks.
"How old is she?" I ask, and he shrugs.
"Why wouldn’t her father be here?" I ask. “If his daughter is here, why isn’t he?"
I stand here, and he crosses his arms over his chest, looking at me. “I don’t know, Reed," he answers me. “What I do know is that little girl is a spitfire. Got on the horse for the first time today, and I swear to God. She looked over at me, she tucked in tight, and she was ready to go race him. She’s got country in her." He smiles proudly. "Pops would be proud,” he says, turning to walk back to the house.
I walk out of the barn, seeing my mother there. “Hey, Mom," I say. “Is Hazel around?"
"Um, I think she left." She looks around. “Have you met Sofia?"
"Yeah," I say, looking around.
"She called me Mrs. Princess," my mother says, putting her hand around my waist. I look down at her and put my hand around her. "It’s so good having you home." I don’t say anything to her because right now, my mind is at a house five minutes from here.
Chapter 14
Hazel
I walk out of the yard as fast as I can without it looking like I’m fleeing a crime scene. I smile at people as we walk out with Sofia's hand in mine. "Come on,” I say to her, helping her get into the truck. I am not going to lie; the whole time, I thought Reed was going to come running and stop me. The fear that he makes a scene is too much to think about. I buckle her in and get into the truck and drive away. My eyes go to the rearview mirror to see if Reed is chasing the car.
I’m so nervous I’m shaking, and when I pull up in the driveway, I stop and look at the flower bed. “What in the dickens?” I say, seeing that all the weeds are gone. I put the truck in park, my eyes just looking at where the five-foot weeds were before we left. “Who?" I say, getting out of the truck and looking at it again to make sure my eyes are not playing tricks on me. Sofia knocks on the back window, and I walk over and open the door for her.
"You forgot me,” she huffs out, and I just shake my head.
"Never,” I say, and she walks ahead of me and stops.
"You did it, Mom,” she says. “You cleaned all the fucking weeds."
"Don’t say that." I point at her. “That is a bad word."
"I’m hungry," she says, walking up the front steps. I follow her and look over to see that fresh earth was put down also along with mulch. "Can you make me an egg to dig?"
She can never remember over easy. “Yeah,” I say, ignoring all the questions spinning around in my head. "Go wash your hands,” I say when I walk into the house and close the door behind me. She kicks off her rubber boots and leaves them at the front door. “You need a bath,” I say, seeing her legs are dusty. “Let’s get you a quick shower, and I’ll make food after."
She walks up the stairs and undresses while I start the shower. She gets in, and I walk into the bedroom and sit on the bed for a second. My legs are still shaky from today. “It was not a good idea," I tell myself. “You’re playing with fire." But seeing her with her cousins and with Billy, it was everything. The tears come now. When I was younger, it was my dream to be a part of a big family. It was everything I wished for. Now don’t get me wrong, I loved my family. I loved that it was just Pops and me. But on Sundays, when we would go, I would wonder what it would be like.
"Momma." I hear her yelling. “I’m clean."
I wipe the tears away and walk back into the bathroom and dry her off. "There you go,” I say, and she puts on her clothes. "Now, let’s go eat."
She nods at me and walks down in front of me. She walks over to the kitchen table, grabbing her coloring book and coloring while I make her something to eat.
"Momma, did you ride horses?" she asks, and I look over at her.
"I did,” I say. “Pops got me a horse when I was ten,” I say. “We called him Ricky."
"I liked riding the horse," she tells me while she colors. “And I like Miss Charlotte and Mr. Billy."
"Me, too,” I say, smiling at her and putting the egg and toast down in front of her.
"I liked Tucker,” she says. “He was fun, and he said he was faster than me." She dips her bread into the egg. “We beat him on horses, too."
"Did you?" I sit down and watch her, my beautiful baby girl.
"Yeah, Uncle Reed is nice, too." I swallow the lump. “He said I could go back and ride the horse with him." She looks at me. “Can I, Momma?"
"We’ll see,” I say, my head screaming no.
"It was so much fun,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “So many people." I don’t say anything as she goes on and on about it between bites. When she is done eating, she asks to go lie down. “All the fresh air,” she says, “kicked my butt." She rubs her eyes and slides into bed.
"Did you have fun today?" I ask as she lies down.
"I went on a horse two times,” she says excitedly. “One with Billy and the other time with Uncle Reed." The minute she says that, I want to throw up. The heat rushes up my neck as I listen to her say his name.
"Uncle Reed,” I say his name without wanting to.
"He said he used to throw rocks at your window," she tells me, and the tears come, but I wipe them away before she sees them.
“He did,” I say, smiling. “It was a special code.” She looks at me and closes her eyes. “Good night, sweet girl,” I say, lying down with her. I hold her to me as my tears fall on my pillow.
When I looked around the barbecue and didn’t see Reed, I sort of felt a sigh of relief. If he wasn’t going to be there, I knew that I escaped the big one. I even let my guard down and sat down to talk to a couple of people.
My eyes were on Sofia the whole time. Her smile never left her face, and the sound of her laughter filled my ears. Then I saw him walking out of the forest. My heart started to speed up, and it was almost like I was having an out-of-body experience when he stopped beside her.
My heart sped up, knowing he was seeing her for the first time, and then it filled in my chest, knowing she just met her father. He smiled at her, and I got up. My first thought was to go and grab her and leave. But then she slipped her hand in his, and all I could do was watch. Watch my little girl get everything I wish I had.
He got on the horse with her and looked over at me. I just nodded as if to tell him she’s yours. She looked over at me, and they both smiled, and it didn’t take a DNA test to tell me what I already knew. He rode off with her, and I ducked out and went to the bathroom, where I let the tears come without fighting them off.
I made up excuses about having allergies when I walked out. My eyes roamed the field for them and I saw him with his hand around her waist to make sure she wouldn’t fall off. The laugh coming out of her was everything. I always imagined they would meet one day. I always imagined that the minute he met her, he would know. He would feel it in his heart, and it would be so fucking amazing for both of them.
I close my eyes, and all I can see is them together. His smile and her smile—it’s the same. I get up and walk back down the stairs to clean up the kitchen.
The soft knock on the door has me looking up. I knew it was coming. Even if I didn’t want to admit it, I knew this day would come. The knock comes again, and this time, it’s a bit louder than the last time. I unlock the door and open it, seeing him standing there. "Yes," I say, stepping out as he stands exactly where he did last week.
"I was wondering if you had a couple of minutes for me,” he says, and I look at him, his eyes on mine. I don’t answer him because I don’t really think it’s so much of a que
stion.
"I met Sofia today,” he says, looking up at me the whole time. For once, I’m happy it’s dark outside, and I can’t see his eyes, nor can he see the fear in mine.
"I saw." I cross my hands over my chest so he doesn’t see them shaking. My mouth is suddenly dry as I try to swallow.
"She’s," he says, and he puts his foot on the last step. He leans in, putting his hand on the railing. I watch him as he thinks about how to ask the question I know is coming. “She’s something, a little bit of a firecracker,” he says with a chuckle. “She does have one heck of a smile,” he says, and my heart stops in my chest. “And a smirk I think I’ve seen before." I don’t say anything, well, for one, I can’t, even if I wanted to. "Let me ask you." His foot on the step is starting to shake now. “How old is she?"
I swallow down the tremors. “Five." I don’t think I can say anything more without my voice cracking. I put my hands down to my sides. Looking at Reed, I see all of this going through his head.
"When is her birthday?" he asks, and I just look at him.
"March the first,” I say, and he just stares at me.
"Is she mine?" he asks the loaded question. He asks the question that will change all of our lives. "Am I her father?"
I put my hand to my stomach. “If you are asking me if you share the same DNA,” I say. “The answer is yes." His mouth now opens. “But if you are asking me if you are her father, the answer is no,” I spit out, anger now coming through me, and apparently, I’m not the only one with anger in me.
"How could you?" he hisses out at me.
"How could I?" I ask, shocked, taking a step down now. “How could I? You made your stance pretty well-known when you couldn’t so much as answer a fucking message,” I say with hurt in my voice, but I don’t even care anymore. I don’t care because just like six years ago, the hurt is still there. The pain that I meant nothing to him destroyed me, but I put it away, blocked it out, but now, here in front of me, I can’t deny it. The tears come one after another. “How you read the message and then just fucking deleted me." I don’t stop. “Like I was nothing."
"It wasn’t like that,” he says.
"You can spin it whatever way you want to spin it, Reed,” I say. “Bottom line, I reached out to tell you I was pregnant with our child. To tell you that I was going to keep our child and"—I shake my head—“you. Did. Nothing." I swallow now. “You read my message,” I say. “I saw that you read it, and I waited. I waited all night for you to answer me, and you know what I got?” I say. “Sitting alone in a room with our child growing inside me.” I stand straight. “I got nothing.” I shake my head. “So you made your position known all those years ago.” I shake my head and turn to walk up the stairs. “This talk is over.”
“That is where you are wrong, Hazel,” he says, and I can hear his voice is shaking. “This is just the beginning." I close my eyes as I walk into the house, and my legs give out.
Chapter 15
Reed
The sound of the door closing has my heart breaking in my chest. The sound of her voice replays over and over. "If you are asking me if you share the same DNA, the answer is yes."
I sit on the step now, knowing that even if I tried to walk home, my legs would give out along the way. I hang my head. “A daughter." The tears come now as I remember her smile today. I missed it all because I was too busy trying to run.
The walk to my house is torture. The farther I get from them, the more my chest tightens. "Bottom line, I reached out to tell you that I was pregnant with our child. To tell you that I was going to keep our child and …" I remember reading the message, remember how it fucked up my whole night. Remember yearning for home for the first time, and I also knew that if I gave in to it, I would be sucked back, and I’d be miserable my whole life.
Unlocking the front door of my house, I don’t turn on a single light. Instead, I sit in the darkness as her words come back to kick me. "Sitting alone in a room with our child growing inside me." I want to know everything. I close my eyes, but nothing helps fight off the guilt. Not one thing I have done or said will make up for missing five years.
The sun comes up, and I know I have to talk to her. I know that things need to be said, so I walk back over to the house. Walking up the three steps, I knock softly. I didn’t even check what time it is. I don’t have time before the door opens just a bit. Her little eyes see me, and they light up. "Momma," she says over her shoulder, opening the door. “It’s Uncle Reed." Hazel comes out of the kitchen with her hair tied up on top of her head, wearing shorts and a T-shirt. "Momma is making pancakes,” she says.
"Go sit and eat," Hazel says to her, and I can’t stop from looking at her. She stands there with her hip cocked just like I’m standing right now. Her smile is the most beautiful thing in the whole world.
"Later, Uncle Reed,” she says, and I shake my head and try not to laugh.
I wait for her to be out of the room before looking at Hazel. The dark circles under her eyes show me that she didn’t sleep either. “Hey," I say softly.
"Come in," she says, and I step in and close the door behind me. "Um …" She starts to talk, and I hold up my hand.
"Before you say anything, I’m sorry, Hazel,” I say. “There is no excuse for any of my actions."
"I wanted to tell you,” she says, and I can finally see her eyes. The sadness in them, the tears. “But I …"
"I should have answered. That is on me,” I say.
"We have a lot to talk about,” she says, and I just nod my head.
"Will you promise me that you won’t leave?" I ask her, my heart clenching in my chest as if someone is reaching in and squeezing it with all their might. “At least not before we talk things out."
"I don’t know how long we will be here,” she says. “But I promise that if we leave, I’ll tell you beforehand."
I just nod at her. “I’ve got someplace to be,” I say, and she just looks at me. I want to reach my hand up and hold her face. Right before I kiss her lips. “But if it’s okay, I’d like to come back and see Sofia."
"That’s fine,” she says softly.
"Bye, Sofia,” I say, holding my hand up, and she looks up from her plate.
"Bye, Uncle Reed,” she says, and I look at Hazel, who has her eyes closed.
"She has never called anyone uncle before," she tells me. “I don’t even know if she knows what that means."
"Tucker called me that, so she might think that’s my name,” I say, not telling her that by the end of all of this, she is going to be calling me dad.
"See you later," I tell them both and turn to walk out of the house.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I call my father first, and he answers right away. “Hey, son,” he says.
"Hey, Dad,” I say, looking around and seeing that the fucking property needs to be fixed. "I was wondering if you have a couple of minutes to sit down with me."
"This sounds serious,” he says, and I look back at the door.
"It is,” I say. “Where are you?"
"Headed out to the clubhouse now,” he says.
"I’ll see you there,” I say, hanging up the phone and running home. I get into the truck and make my way over.
The only car in the parking lot is my father's. I get out and walk into the converted barn. The white door closes, and once I walk in, I hear a buzzing noise. I pull the door open and step inside my father’s world. From the looks of it, he looks just like a regular cowboy, but he’s so much more. He’s one of the best computer tech people I know with a massive contract to the military as well as the security measures around the world.
He sits at a desk, leaning back in it with a coffee in his hand. “Now I know it’s serious,” he says to me, and I shake my head. "Also, you look like shit."
"Wow,” I say, putting my hand to my chest. “That hurt." He just shrugs.
"I’m not going to piss on your leg and tell you that it’s raining. You look like trash. Have you slept?" he asks, putt
ing down his cup of coffee, and I look at him. My stomach clenches when I think of telling him about Sofia.
"I’ve had things on my mind,” I say, sitting down and wondering how disappointed he’s going to be in me for not taking responsibility for my child. "I’ve been thinking." My leg is starting to shake when I start talking. “What would you say if I asked you for a job?" I look over at him, and his eyebrows pinch together.
"I would say why?" His eyes look into mine, and I wonder if he can tell how desperate I am.
"I don’t understand." I laugh nervously. "Do you not want me to work for you?"
"Oh, no, you don’t,” he says, shaking his head and grabbing his mug again. “You aren’t turning this around on me." He puts his mug down. “You were dying to get out of this town. Dying,” he says the word again. “And now, all of a sudden, you want to work here." He shakes his head. “That doesn’t jibe." He puts his hands together. “Now let’s start this again. Why do you want to work for me?"
"I can’t tell you right now,” I say honestly.
"You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” my father says, the worry all over his face. “If you need money or you’re in trouble."
I shake my head. “I’m not in trouble, Dad." I feel like throwing up. "Nor do I need money." I shrug. “I just." I think about the right words to say. I think about how to word it, and the only thing that comes to my mind is what I say next. “I found my purpose,” I tell him the truth. She is five years old, and she is the best thing I’ve ever done.
"Then I say"—he swallows, and tears form in his eyes—“you’ve got a job whenever and wherever you want it."
"I don’t want you to just say that or to just give me a job to give me money,” I say. “If I stay and do this, I want to earn the money just like everyone else."
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