Daddy’s Secret Baby

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Daddy’s Secret Baby Page 8

by Black, Natasha L.


  I didn’t want any more secrets between us, though.

  So, after my research I went over to the landline. I scrolled through the caller ID until I found Ari’s number. Then, I walked upstairs, preparing myself to send her a text and tell her exactly what I had done and what I was prepared to do.

  Despite the fact that all I wanted to do was kiss those lips of hers again just to see if the spark still ignited.

  11

  Arianna

  Hey. It’s Simon. I’ve contacted a lawyer just in case we need legal mediation to work out custody with Macy. I just hope we don’t have to take that route. Call if you have any questions.

  The paintbrush fell from my hand as I read the text over and over. A lawyer. Simon had consulted with a lawyer? The talk was only yesterday! Had he dived face-first into a lawyer’s lap the second we left?

  “Oh, no,” I whispered.

  Was he expecting a response? I wasn’t sure I had one. What I wanted to do was slap him. Pound his face into the pavement. Yes. I got it. I’d made a shit decision with his father to keep Macy a secret. But it hadn’t been a malicious decision.

  Did none of that really matter to him?

  My eyes burned. I stood from my painting stool and tossed my phone down. Ripping my apron over my head, I scooped my phone up and stormed out of the shed my father had built for my mother in the backyard to have a little space for herself from time to time. I had converted it into my own person art studio. It was small, but it fit the bill for what I needed. And now, on my only fucking day off, I couldn’t concentrate anymore.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to let the tears brewing behind my eyes slide down my cheeks. But enough men in my life had made me cry, my own damn father included. I wouldn’t let Simon have that kind of control over me. No. He wouldn’t. If he thought he could swoop in, guilt-trip me, and then steal my daughter away from me, he had another thing coming.

  But I wouldn’t let Simon do this without seeing my side of things first.

  I drew in deep breaths in the backyard. I opened my eyes and gazed at the back of the house. I stared at the basement door, now covered completely by a hill of weeds. No one had used the basement in years. My father practically boarded the damn thing up after I left for college. Just like my father to shut things out that hurt him. Shut up everything he could in order to get away from painful memories instead of simply dealing with them.

  Don’t be like your father. Deal with this.

  So, I took my time to craft a message back to Simon.

  I’m sure it doesn’t have to come to that. I had no plans to keep Macy from you any longer. I understand my fault in this. Once we can sit down together, we can come up with something. You have my word.

  And after sending the message, I started looking up lawyers of my own.

  This town did a lot of gossiping, especially about divorce. I heard horror stories growing up, and the one thing I learned was that if someone got a lawyer, they planned on playing games. Keeping records. Holding something over the other person’s head. Simon hadn’t been in my life in years. He looked like a completely different person. Acted like one, too. There was no way in hell I was simply taking his word for it.

  At the very least, I needed a free consultation to know my rights in this situation.

  If I have any.

  I sighed as my phone alarm started chirping. Time to go pick up Macy from school. The drive was a blur, and as usual my daughter kept silent in the back of the car. Her silence didn’t faze me anymore. Not nowadays. Our relationship had been strained for a couple of years now, ever since she’d started asking questions about her father.

  Maybe I really am the bad guy in all this.

  “What’s for dinner, Mom?”

  I shrugged. “I was thinking chicken Parmesan. With those noodles you like?”

  “Have you already made it?”

  “Not yet. Would you like something else?”

  “What’s Dad’s favorite dish?”

  I sighed. “I don’t really know.”

  “What did he used to eat? You know, when you guys knew each other?”

  “A lot of macaroni and cheese.”

  “Then, let’s have that. We can invite him over!”

  “Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not? I want to see my dad.”

  I nodded. “I know, honey. And you will. Once he and I figure out a schedule for—”

  “I want to see him.”

  “And you will. I’m not telling you that you can’t.”

  “I want to see him tonight.”

  I pulled into the driveway and tried to take steady breaths. I felt the fight mounting and the tension rising in the car. I didn’t want to fight with my daughter. I didn’t want to keep pushing her away.

  But she couldn’t keep running me over, either.

  “Mom, why can’t I see him?” Macy asked.

  I parked the car. “It’s not that you can’t. You just can’t see him tonight. He and I have some things to discuss, and then you’ll have a set schedule of when you know you can see him. No matter what. Okay?”

  “I don’t get to ask when I can see him?”

  “I just don’t have that answer for you right now.”

  “Then, call him! Ask him, Mom!”

  “And I’ll call him after dinn—”

  “I want my dad! I want him now! Call him!”

  “Well sometimes life isn’t fair, and we don’t get what we want.”

  The words flew out of my mouth before I caught them, and the look of horror that crossed Macy’s face made me sick to my stomach. She unbuckled her seat belt and hopped out of the car. I heard her crying all the way to the porch. I watched with tears sliding down my cheeks as she dug out the spare key. She charged into the house, leaving the door hanging wide open as she stormed upstairs.

  And as I sat in my car—like I’d done so many times before—I cried.

  I cried until I couldn’t see, until my eyes were so swollen, they actually hurt. Then, I rolled my shoulders back and went inside. I locked the front door as the sounds of my daughter’s sobs echoed down the stairs. My heart shattered into a million pieces as I walked into the kitchen, ready to make macaroni and cheese.

  Her father’s favorite, from what I remembered.

  I wiped at my face. I cried more tears as they fell into the boiling noodles. I felt a big, black hole filling my chest cavity. I didn’t know what to do or where to go from here. Everything felt impossible. All I wanted was to hit the reset button and try this again.

  The right way, so I didn’t hurt anyone in the process.

  “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

  My daughter slammed into my body, and I dropped the spoon. I spun around, forgetting all about the noodles as I scooped her into my arms. I heaved her up until she sat on the edge of the kitchen counter, crying into my shoulder. As I stroked my hand against her hair, I cried with her.

  “It’s okay. I’ve gotcha. Mommy’s here,” I said breathlessly.

  “I just feel alone.”

  I drew in shuddering breaths. “You’re not alone, though. You’ve got me. I love you so much, Macy. You’re my world.”

  “I don’t feel like it sometimes.”

  “Why not? Tell me what to change, and I will.”

  I kissed the side of her head as she sniffled.

  “We fight all the time,” she whispered.

  I laughed. “Because we’re both so stubborn sometimes.”

  “And I don’t get why you say no to things.”

  “Because sometimes, honey, the answer really is no. And you have to learn to be okay with that. Because I won’t be the only person to tell you no. Including your father.”

  She sighed. “Why did you say no to Dad tonight?”

  She lifted her head and looked into my eyes, trying to search for the answer. And that’s where I realized what I had done wrong. My daughter, who was almost nine years old and bright as a
bulb, wanted explanations.

  “When did you get so big?” I whispered.

  “Huh?” Macy asked.

  I snickered. “I can’t call your father right now because I’m not emotionally prepared. I know that sounds selfish, and I know that isn’t fair to you. But I just need a couple of days before I call him and figure out when it’s best for him to spend time with you. And then, once we get that settled, you can see him. Okay?”

  My daughter stared at me for a long time before she nodded.

  “Okay.”

  I blinked. “Okay?”

  She nodded. “Okay, Mommy.”

  “So, that’s it?”

  “Is the macaroni and cheese done?”

  I slowly looked over to the overflowing pan of boiling water. It sizzled as steam escaped into the air. It quickly fluttered up to the heat detector in the kitchen before the alarm started blaring. And as the piercing sound rang our ears, I heard my daughter giggling.

  “Guess it’s done,” she said.

  I laughed as I brought my gaze back to hers. “I guess it is.”

  “I want to see him a lot, Mom.”

  I reached over and pulled the noodles off the stove so nothing else would sizzle and burn.

  “I’ll try to make that happen as much as possible, okay?” I asked.

  “And my other granddad.”

  I reached for a rag. “I know he’d really like that.”

  I turned back to my daughter. “I know you’re still upset with me for keeping you from your dad. And while that hurts, I get it. I made some bad decisions. I promise to make it up to you as much as I can, okay?”

  “Okay”

  But the look on her face told me I might not be able to.

  Despite the apologies and the tears, dinner was tense. Macy didn’t say much to me, and after she was done eating, she did her homework in her room. I didn’t see her at all for the rest of the night. And as I sat in the kitchen with my second glass of white wine, memories of that summer came crashing back.

  Memories of Simon in my arms.

  Memories of his smile and his laughter.

  Memories of how happy we were just being with one another. How we felt invincible, like nothing could touch us.

  Our summer together was perfect. Until that night.

  I smiled as I thought about it. All the things we got up to. The stolen kisses and the basement dates late at night after my father had gone to bed. The glances we shot one another at baseball and soccer games. Snacks he shared with me underneath the bleachers while our fathers went head-to-head in some community tournament. I let the happiness flood my memory. I let the electricity of his phantom touch shiver down my spine. The remembrance of how warm his lips felt against my own.

  I felt my heart rate climbing as my breathing quickened.

  “Simon,” I whispered.

  I poured myself a third glass of wine and sighed. As much as I wanted to be angry at the world, I had to let it go. I’d never be able to regret that summer because I did love Simon. Back then, at least. I hadn’t recognized it as love. I hadn’t understood what it was. But I’d felt it. And I got Macy out of the deal; a beautiful, headstrong girl, conceived in love and tenderness.

  Yes. It was time I let go of the anger. It was time I moved on. No matter what I felt I was owed by the world, it was time I grew up. After all, anger did my father no good. It wasn’t doing Simon any good. And if I wanted to teach my daughter how to not be so angry with the world, I had to show her how to do it. I had to show her how to not be angry.

  “Time to move on, Ari,” I murmured to myself.

  And hopefully, I could still fix things with my daughter.

  12

  Simon

  I clicked on moving companies as I opened them up in other tabs. My laptop whirred to life as I sipped on my morning cup of coffee. After a week of going to pick up some of my things, taking Dad to his first chemotherapy appointment, and generally trying to get my life together, the only thing I wanted to do was sit. Rest. Drink coffee until I vibrated with enough energy to contact a moving company to help me haul the rest of my stuff home. I needed my home base to be, well, home. I didn’t know how long this thing with Dad would take to heal from. And my daughter was here. No sense in telling my own damn daughter I was staying if I only had plans to turn around and leave or go search for another job.

  No. My place was here now. In Hollis.

  Where I had always belonged.

  Tires rolling up the driveway caught my ear. With my brow furrowed and my curiosity piqued, I closed my laptop. I carried everything inside and shut the porch door. Then, I went to see who had arrived. It was barely nine in the morning. And I’d only had one cup of coffee.

  “Daddy!”

  I dropped my things on the kitchen table and sprinted toward the front door. I ripped it open, still in my pajama pants and my robe. When I saw Macy running toward me, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. When I saw Ari standing by her car, I almost had to pinch myself to see if it was real. But feeling Macy wrap her arms around me proved to me I wasn’t dreaming.

  They were here.

  And my daughter had just run into my arms.

  “Oh, there you are, sweet girl,” I whispered.

  “Morning,” she said, giggling.

  I looked out toward Ari, and she shrugged. She looked nonplussed to be in my vicinity. But she was here, and that was a start. She cocked her head, leaning against the dented door of the car she drove. The damn thing was about to fall apart—rust around the bottom edges, one tire that looked semi-flat. With every movement she made, the car seemed to rock effortlessly.

  How the hell are they safe in that thing?

  “On Sundays we go to the market. Do you wanna come?”

  Macy’s voice pulled me from my trance, and I looked down at her.

  “Do you want me to come?” I asked.

  And when she nodded her head vigorously, I nearly cried.

  “Then of course I’d love to come.”

  “Yay! This is gonna be awesome!”

  I bent down, kissing the top of her head. “Just let me get ready first. I need to change clothes and check on your grandfather.”

  “Does he want to come, too? He can come! I wanna see him. Can I see him?”

  “You can see him once he gets up. He’s still sleeping.”

  She giggled. “Mom wishes she was still sleeping, too.”

  I looked back over at Ari, and she did look tired. There were bags under her eyes and her shoulders seemed a bit slumped. Part of me worried about her state, but part of me also knew it wasn’t my place. We had bigger things to fix, so I shrugged it off.

  Though, it still nagged at the back of my mind.

  “All right. Give me ten minutes to get changed and I’ll be down. Okay? And tell your mother I’m driving. So, if you use a booster seat or anything, get it in my truck. It’s the dark green one,” I said.

  “I’ll let her know,” Macy said.

  I sprinted upstairs, leaving the front door hanging wide open. It took me only five minutes to change, and even less time to splash some water in my face. I brushed my teeth, popped in a piece of gum, then rushed my ass back downstairs. I didn’t want anyone getting any second thoughts and leaving before I could get back downstairs.

  And when I found the girls sitting in my truck, I smiled.

  Genuinely smiled.

  “Do you always leave your truck unlocked?” Ari asked.

  I slid behind the wheel. “It’s Hollis. My father still leaves the back door unlocked at night.”

  “Good to know.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a cheeky quip or a sarcastic response, but I took it as the former. No use digging into anything else when such a wonderful surprise dropped on my doorstep this morning. I knew Dad would be all right. I already had breakfast for him to heat up in the fridge. And if he needed anything, I had my cell phone on me.

  Though, I was worried about him.

  “So, how
was your morning?” I asked.

  “You talking to me, Daddy?” Macy asked.

  “I am.”

  “Mom and I had breakfast. She made pancakes really early. Though, she burnt some of them. So, we couldn’t eat those,” Macy said.

  “Well, I’m sure they were good pancakes,” I said.

  “They were okay. Do you make pancakes?”

  I smiled. “Sometimes.”

  “Do you still like macaroni and cheese? Mom says you like macaroni and cheese.”

  “Oh, I love macaroni and cheese.”

  “Mom made some okay macaroni and cheese this week. I wanted to invite you, but she said I couldn’t. She said she wasn’t ready, and that’s okay.”

  I looked over at Ari. “Yes. That’s completely okay.”

  “She yelled at me, though,” Macy said.

  “Macy, that’s enough,” Ari said.

  “What? You always tell me not to lie,” she said plainly.

  “I’m not asking you to lie to Daddy. It’s just that there are some things you don’t have to mention.”

  “Like how you yell at me?”

  I chuckled. Wow, my girl had sass. But that also meant she was giving her mother the runaround. I remembered those days. I remembered being Macy’s age.

  And doing that shit alone? No wonder Ari had bags under her eyes.

  “What does your mother do that’s good?” I asked.

  Macy stayed silent, and Ari sighed.

  “Oh, come on. There has to be something. Your mother’s a good woman. What does she do that’s good?” I asked.

  “It’s okay, Simon. Take a left here. You’ll get there faster,” Ari said.

  “Nu-uh. You stay straight,” Macy said.

  “Just take a left.”

  “The sign says straight, Mom.”

  “Macy, I’m just trying to get us there quicker so you can have more time with your father.”

 

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