Simon
“Hey there, Marcy. Yes, I would really appreciate it if you kept an eye on them. I’ve already told the—uh-huh, yes. They’re coming tomorrow. Nine in the morning, and it shouldn’t take them more than—uh-huh. Yes. Moving permanently. I know, I know. I’m going to miss you, too. Tell Grant I’m coming back soon for our monthly poker and beer night, though. I’m not missing that at all. Yes, nine to eleven. I’d really appreciate it. Thank you so much, Marcy. Yep. And call me when they’re headed this way. Thanks. I owe you one.”
I hung up the phone and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. One task down, many more to go. After finally settling on a moving company and arranging my neighbor to keep an eye on them, I was ready to get my stuff. And the best part about it was that my complex was playing nice. They let me out of my lease with two months’ worth of rent up front, they were going to let the movers in without me having to be there, and Marcy was going to help pack up the few things I had there into boxes for them. While also keeping an eye on my things.
Part of me would miss Connecticut. But my life was here. My father. My daughter. The mother of my child. And with my job falling through because of idiotic shit I didn’t want to put up with any longer, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Plus, leaving my father wasn’t something I wanted to do. Leaving for an afternoon was one thing, but a moving trip to and from Connecticut? That would take me away for a few days.
Which I didn’t want to happen.
Now, to call my lawyer.
“Declan Litteger’s office, this is Kelly speaking.”
“Hey there, Kelly. It’s Simon Redman,” I said.
“Oh, well hello there, Mr. Redman. Mr. Litteger’s actually in a meeting right now. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Just give Mr. Litteger a message for me. Will you let him know that I’ll keep him on retainer, but the mother of my child and I are going to try and settle things face-to-face first?”
“Face-to-face. Got it. I’ll make sure he gets the memo. Oh! And good luck. We’re here for you if things don’t go the way you plan.”
I nodded. “I appreciate that. Thanks, Kelly.”
“Anytime, Mr. Redman. Call us if you need us. Oh! And make sure you get everything in writing. I’m supposed to always remind clients of this before they take this road. Even if it’s agreed upon face-to-face, get it on a document. Or in a text. Or on a voice message. Something that can be verified, if necessary.”
I smiled. “Thank you for the reminder. Have a good day.”
“You too.”
I hung up the phone and stared out over the backyard. It seemed so small now, compared to when I was younger. But my father had also made some additions, too. The patio had been re-poured with concrete, and I was pretty sure it was bigger than the last time I stood on it. The entire patio was shaded by a tent someone had put up. There was a grill out here, too. A glass table. A couple of chairs. Even a lounger off in the corner that saw a few hours of sun every day. This backyard was a stark change from what I remembered from my childhood. And it reminded me just how long I’d been away.
“Time to come home,” I murmured.
I looked down at my phone and pulled up an internet search. It wouldn’t be hard to find jobs in and around Hollis. Most people were just beginning to advertise their jobs online, which meant websites were gathering them into one area. A quick search of “coaching jobs” with filters like “within thirty miles of my location” revealed to me a few things I could see myself doing around town.
Though, none of them brought in quite the income I was used to.
I had to admit that the college paid me well in comparison to what I was looking at now. Despite the fact that I was frugal and tossed most of it into savings, it was still nice to have that growing nest egg. It made me feel accomplished, like I had finally nailed this whole “adulthood” thing. But sitting on my father’s back porch without a job and having to live off that nest egg?
That didn’t feel like winning at adulthood.
I hopped over to my bank account and did a few calculations. I had more saved back than I figured, and my last check from the university showed in my account. I did the math roughly in my head. I closed my eyes and bobbed my head, using my fingers to count.
If I could keep my rent under six hundred a month, I had a little over a year’s worth of bills and groceries saved up.
Surely I’d have a job in a year.
So, I put the job hunt aside and started hunting for apartments in the area. As much as I wanted to be here with my father, living together might not be the best idea. At least after he was done with his chemotherapy treatments. And even then, if he wanted me away for a little while, I wanted to have a place to retreat to. I didn’t want to store all my shit at his place and fill up his shed and store stuff in his garage because I didn’t have a place to put it.
Maybe if I secured one quickly enough, I could send the movers there instead of here.
Can you really find a place by tomorrow, though?
As I scrolled through the open apartments for rent, I smiled. There were a lot more within my price range than I imagined, and my mind started running wild. If things went well, I’d have a private place for Macy to come spend time with me. Ari, too. My body sizzled at the notion. Her coming back to my place, us eating dinner at a kitchen table together, my foot pressed against hers. Watching those soft lips of hers wrap around a spoon filled with something to keep us warm during the coming fall months.
Focus, Simon.
I cleared my throat. I looked back down at phone and kept scrolling. I inquired about a few places, but a lot of the apartments looked run-down and old, hoisted haphazardly above bars and bakeries. That might have worked for me when I was single and didn’t have a care in the world, but it wouldn’t work now that I had a daughter. I wanted her to have better. I wanted her to have a nice room to stay in that didn’t smell like booze or wake her up at six in the morning with the sounds of someone working underneath her.
Plus, I wanted somewhere a bit romantic for me to bring Ari to.
“You know, we’ve got that cabin.”
“Holy shit!”
I nearly jumped out of my skin as my father chuckled behind me. I stood quickly from my chair and whipped around, watching as a smile crossed his face.
“Apartment hunting, right?” he asked.
“Yeah and job hunting, too.”
He snickered. “There’s that cabin near the state park.”
“We still have that place?”
“Never had the heart to get rid of it. Your mother loved it out there. I mean, it could use some detailing. Probably pretty dusty. You know how it gets during this time of the year.”
“Still only renting it out during the summer?”
He shrugged. “I like visiting it in the spring. Was your mother’s favorite time of the year.”
“What about fall and winter, then?”
“Ah, people don’t like cabins when there aren’t pretty leaves and shit to look at.”
I grinned. “Leaves and shit. Got it.”
Dad shuffled out onto the porch. “If you’re looking for your own place, you’re more than welcome to use that until you find something.”
“Dad, that’s much too generous.”
“You need a place. I got a place. You’re my son. I’m your father. I know you never liked going there as a kid, but you’re more than welcome to it.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t like going there, Dad. I just…”
His gaze found mine, and he nodded.
“Yeah, I know. Too much of your mother there.”
I nodded. “Something like that.”
He drew in a deep breath. “There any coffee left?”
“Half a pot, yeah.”
“Good. I need some caffeine.”
“You technically shouldn’t have it.”
“You wanna pry it from my hands? Try me.”
I chuckled. “I d
on’t have a death wish. Just reminding you.”
He sighed. “Trust me, I’m reminded every time I puke my guts.”
My face fell. “Were you sick this morning?”
“Nothing to worry about.”
“Hold up.”
I followed my father into the house as he shuffled over to the coffeepot.
“Why didn’t you call for me if you were getting sick?” I asked.
“Because I’m a grown-ass man that can puke all by myself,” he said.
“Dad, if you need help—”
“Simon, I get it. I know you want to help. I know you want to be here to support me. And you are. And I appreciate that. But for fuck’s sake son, I need my space back.”
I watched him pour a mug of coffee for himself as a breathless chuckle fell from my lips.
“So, I take it you want me to move into the cabin?”
“For the love of everything, please,” he said.
I threw my head back in laughter, and he joined me. I loved my father, and I knew he loved me. But he was nothing if not a private man. I walked over to him and hugged him close. I held back my sighs and tears as I committed the feeling of his arms around me to memory. Not as strong as his hugs used to be, but definitely just as warm.
“Okay. I’ll move into the cabin,” I murmured.
“Thank you, son,” he whispered.
“It’s a bit of a drive across town. But you’ll have your space back.”
“I love you. And I do want you at these appointments, but when you don’t have to be here, don’t be here. You have a family to take care of now. A little girl who needs you. And a mother to your child who’s been struggling for a long time.”
I held him out in front of me, my hands on his shoulders.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
Dad quirked an eyebrow. “I’m sure it’s not my place. But have you really not put it together yet?”
“I mean, yeah. Ari struggled a lot, it seems. But I feel like you’re talking about something else. Something bigger.”
He sighed. “You know what postpartum depression is?”
I paused. “You’re kidding.”
He shook his head. “I’m not. I mean, I didn’t see much of her. But I did see her around town sometimes, whenever I ventured out. It didn’t take a doctor to take a look at her and see the inner demons she was struggling with. That poor girl’s been through a lot. I get you’re upset with us, but you have to try and see it from her point of view. With her pregnancy and the complications with birth and her PPD and her father breathing down her neck? She was just trying to keep some peace. Keep some civility in her life and not bring anyone else into the chaos. In her own way, she was trying to protect you, not deceive you.”
“How do you know that, Dad?”
“Because when she made me promise not to tell you about Macy, that’s the reasoning she gave me. And that’s what brought me to her side.”
“She told you all this?”
He nodded. “Not in as many words. I believe her exact words were, ‘When things get better, Simon will know. But until then, I can’t handle anything else.’ So, if she never even tried reaching out to me to tell you, what does that say to you?”
I sighed. “That things didn’t get better.”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
Fuck. “Are you sure you’re okay with me moving into the cabin?”
“For all of our sakes? Yes. You can use the place until you get back up on your feet. Alright?”
I hugged my dad close again. “Alright. Thank you so much.”
“I love you, son.”
“I’m so sorry, Dad.”
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize to me. Just step up and be the man I raised you to be.”
“I will. I promise.”
He patted me on the back and kissed my cheek.
“I know you will. You’ve never once backed down from your word. And that’s what really makes a man.”
15
Arianna
I slipped into my car after a very early shift, thankful that Petra could drop Macy off at school. Because I wasn’t ready for Simon to be spending time alone with my daughter. I just wasn’t there yet. And, I had to get to Nashua before the gallery got too crowded. Which meant if things went well, Petra would have to pick Macy up from school, too. Definitely something I didn’t want Simon doing right now. I didn’t want to lose my chance with this gallery. The entire week had been such a whirlwind that I completely forgot about the meeting I’d set up with the owner to talk to him about selling some of my pieces.
Because apparently, he was interested.
I white-knuckled the steering wheel all the way to the meeting. I breathed in deeply through my nose, trying to keep a level head. I didn’t want my expectations to get too high. Because every time I let that happen, my dreams were shot down. It had happened so many times with my art over the years that I had gotten used to the word “no.”
“No, your paintings aren’t good enough.”
“No, your sculptures aren’t detailed enough.”
“No, your photography doesn’t have enough of a focal point for our project.”
“No” seemed to be the slogan for my life.
I pulled into the parking lot and sighed. I had to play this well, otherwise the chance might blow over and never come back around to me. I slipped out of my car and walked inside, gazing around at the walls. The vaulted ceilings of Nashua’s art gallery took me by surprise. The place didn’t look that big from the outside. It was as if I had stepped into Mary Poppins’s purse or the closet leading into Narnia.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“Like it?”
I turned around at the sound of the man’s voice.
“It’s beautiful in here. How many rooms do you have showing right now?”
He walked up to me. “We have five going on right now. But the one I keep reserved for emerging local artists is currently vacant.”
“What a shame. Have you not found anyone to fill it yet?”
He grinned. “I don’t know. Am I looking at someone who’s interested?”
I smiled. “I take it you’re the owner.”
“Actually, co-owner. My wife and I opened up this place together. She’s got a passion for art, and I’ve got a passion for making her happy.”
I laughed. “That’s sweet.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Arianna.”
“How did you know who I am?”
He pointed to his chest. “Your name tag.”
I blushed furiously as I quickly worked it off my shirt. I jammed it into my pocket as a feeling of mortification filled me. The man chuckled and ushered me down the hallway, walking past the exhibits they had on display. The art was breathtaking. The sculptures were eye-catching and wonderful, not at all the clay sculpting I delved into back in college. They were made of scrap metal and sweat, blood and tears. I stopped and ogled as my heart sank.
There was no way in hell I’d be competing with any of these artists.
“So, my wife tells me you’re the mysterious painter behind her latest acquisition,” the man said.
I whipped my head around as we came to an empty hallway. Nothing on the walls, white-washed and barren with silver crown molding and black marble floors that called to the minimalist in me. And there, on the wall—underneath one glowing warm light—was one of my paintings.
A dotted picture of the ocean.
My peaceful place.
“Oh, my gosh,” I whispered.
I walked past the man and laughed as I saw it hanging on the wall.
“This is usually where we host the exhibit pieces. But my wife didn’t have any other wall in our house to cover with more artwork, so she hung it here for safekeeping. And every time I pass by it, I wonder why there isn’t more of that kind of work hung on this wall. It fits, don’t you think?”
I swallowed hard. “It—looks good underneath that light.”
“That’s the difference between warm and harsh white light. It can make all the difference.”
“You speak like a photographer.”
He chuckled. “It seems as if you have some background in it if you can spot it.”
I shrugged. “I’m not very good at it. But I like it.”
“There’s no such thing as good art and bad art. Only appreciated art and unappreciated art.”
I smiled at his words. “Is this why you called me? To make sure it was okay to keep the painting up?”
“Actually, I tracked you down and called you because I wanted to see if you’d like to hang any more up here. You know, for your own exhibit.”
“Wait, really?”
“Really.”
I paused. “Has someone put you up to this?”
He chuckled. “You sound like me before I had my first photograph hung on the wall of a movie theater.”
“A movie theater?”
He laughed. “Yes. I was desperate to get my pictures up anywhere. I volunteered for a job to photograph staged people in the theater seats to hang on the walls of the local theater where I grew up, back in Annapolis. Up until that point, no one even took a second look at my portfolio, much less wanted to purchase anything. Or hire me for anything.”
“Sounds like my life.”
“So, do you want your own exhibit?”
I smiled softly. “Is that really even a question?”
He grinned. “Come on. We can talk more in my office.”
He ushered me all the way back before I walked into what seemed like a double-office desk. There was a massive mahogany desk with a chair on either side, both of them rolled up underneath its own side. I smiled brightly as the man took his place in the chair facing me. He pulled out some paperwork and picked up what looked like a calendar. Then, he rolled over to the other chair and turned it around for me.
“Take a seat. My wife usually sits there, but she’s out getting us a late lunch,” he said.
“You two share an office?” I asked.
He nodded. “Always been that way. We’ve shared a bed for twenty years. Shared a home. A bedroom. It felt out of place to have two offices apart from one another.”
Daddy’s Secret Baby Page 10