by Gabrielle G.
I, who wanted to bring him to places he didn’t know, am the one who went back to where I belong.
I stay lying on my stomach, sated while Aaron runs to the bathroom to get a towel to clean me up. It’s soft and loving, and when he pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head, a single tear falls from the corner of my eye.
“If you hadn’t let me go, I wouldn’t have been able to discover what I liked. Maybe we wouldn’t have been together long,” I say, nuzzling myself in the base of his neck.
“Or we would have discovered all this together.” His hand is caressing my arm while he takes a big breath.“My family knows we’re seeing each other again.” I freeze. Is that what we are doing? Aaron’s arm brings me a security I thought I’d lost. I feel like me again after so many years having tried to find the missing piece. He completes me. But what happens tomorrow? What happens once he knows? What happens once his family knows?
“The whole family?”
“Yes. Did you tell yours?”
“Well… my mother thinks you’re the antichrist, and as for Adam… It’s complicated.”
“Complicated?”
“It’s a long story. Can I put some clothes on before going into it?”
“Of course, I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…” I get out of bed and start getting dressed, dreading losing the bliss I felt moments ago. He does the same, his eyes analyzing me like he used to do when we played hockey against one another, trying to decide what my next move would be, and trying to read me like he could.
“Sweets, what is it?” As I finish buttoning my blouse, I take a deep breath, knowing the moment I feared the most is here. I was never meant to see him again. I avoided our hometown for years, and even then, I thought he would be married, and I would be able to ignore him when I came back a few months ago.
“Adam is twenty-six years old,” I announce, hoping this will be enough for him to understand.
“Yeah, about that. I realized that Jess and I named our children by the names you liked when we were kids. I had forgotten about it until my mother, who had never forgotten, told me last night.” Our children. The freaking irony of his words is not lost on me. My phone rings somewhere in the bedroom, and I let it go to voicemail. Paralyzed by what I have to do. It rings again. The heavy silence between us growing like a fungus. When it rings a third time, I decided to pick up the conversation after answering. It could be Adam needing to reach me. I feel the anxiety rising when I see an unknown number on display.
“Hello?”
“Alane Smith?” A voice I don’t know asks. Aaron steps closer to me.
“Yes,” my shaky voice answers.
“It’s Doctor Parks. Your mother has been brought to the Health Center after she lost consciousness at the grocery store. I’m currently running some exams, so I don’t have to send her to the hospital, but I would like you to come down, if possible.”
“Of... of course, Doctor Parks. I’ll be right there. Tell my mother I’m on my way.”
“I’ll drive you.” Aaron takes my hand.
“We need to finish our conversation, Aar. It’s important.”
Kissing me on the cheeks, he smiles at me the way he used to.
“Later. First, your mom, then we’ll talk.”
When we arrive at the Health Center, Mrs. Gritt is here with Luke and Barnabas. I don’t take the time to ask them why they’re here before running to a nurse to get more details.
My mother is having a full exam done, and for the moment, there is nothing to tell me except that she lost consciousness at the store, and the Gritts found her in the chocolate aisle. They tried to reach Aaron, who had left his phone in his car, and Luke had tried to call me, but it seemed we were so busy I didn’t even hear my phone.
“She was supposed to be at the Harbors, not shopping at the grocery store. I don’t get it,” I say to myself. Mrs. Gritt comes closer to me and wraps me in her arms.
“That’s the problem with early dementia, Alane. They forget what they are supposed to do. They get confused.”
“How do you know?”
“The whole town knows. Mrs. Harbor can’t keep her lips sealed. Don’t worry, honey. Her losing consciousness is a little concerning, unless it’s because she didn’t eat.”
Oh, how I’ve missed this woman. She was more of a mother to me than my own. She taught me so much.
When Aunt Clarisse died after years of battling cancer, I thought a lot about Mrs. Gritt, wondering how she was doing, and feeling guilty for keeping her grandson away from her.
That’s when I learned Aaron just had a second kid. That’s when I decided once again that I couldn’t ruin his perfect life. That’s the last time I thought of Aaron’s mom.
“I’m sorry I never reached out.”
“It’s okay, you had other fish to fry.” She smiles, lovingly. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Mrs. Gritt. You haven’t aged a day.”
“You’re lying, Alane, but it’s okay. You should see Ridge though, he hasn’t changed. Those Gritt genes are strong.” I feel uncomfortable speaking about the Gritt’s genes, knowing the secret I bear. I need to finish the conversation I started with Aaron.
“Mom?” I freeze, hearing Adam’s voice coming from the corridor.
“I’m sorry,” is all I can mumble to Mrs. Gritt before my world collapses. Adam strides in, more handsome than ever; looking like his dad certainly did eighteen years ago.
“Adam, what are you doing here?”
“I came to surprise you, and when I arrived in town, I heard at the gas station that a Mrs. Smith had collapsed at the grocery store. I was afraid it was you, so I asked where they brought her, and I came as fast as I could.” He hugs me tight. I’m well aware of the silence that’s fallen behind me. Once Adam steps back, I hear someone swearing, while another person is sobbing.
“Fuck, Aaron, that kid is your doppelgänger,” Barnabas says, realizing a little too late what he just alleged. “Oh shit! Alane, what the fuck?” He gasps. I turn to find Aaron teetering between anger and confusion.
“He’s twenty-six?” His voice is matter of fact, certainly computing all the crumbs I gave about Adam since we found each other again. I nod.
“Almost twenty-seven,” I mumble between my teeth.
“I guess this conversation can’t wait any longer, Alane, right?” I shake my head; mortified he learned the truth this way. I owed him more than this small hospital encounter. I owed him more than this fait accompli.
“Adam, I’m sorry.” I step closer to my puzzled son, reach my hand to his shoulder to soothe him.
“What’s going on?” Adam asks, looking for confirmation of what I’m certain he already knows. His livid-blue eyes shows his understanding of the situation. I can’t look at Luke or Mrs. Gritt. I know I owe them an explanation too, but at the moment, I have to focus on my son and Aaron.
“Adam,” I say, stepping away so that the two men can face each other without me in between them.
“This is Aaron. Your biological father.”
27
Now – Aaron
Cacophony.
Discord.
A mess.
That’s what I’m surrounded with while Luke, Barnabas, Adam and my mother are screaming at each other.
Oh, the kid is a Gritt alright.
He has passion and protects his own fiercely.
I can see he’s angry at his mother – it’s not hard to see the mirror image of my own feelings,, but right now, he won’t let my family— his family— blame her.
He’s protecting her.
His body is in front of her, while she’s disappearing behind him. It’s not that she’s hiding, but guilt and fear are eating her alive. Shaking, she’s looking for an exit, for an escape, and as much as I’m infuriated with Alane, I can’t let her disappear or run away. I need to save her. I need to hear her words and understand what the fuck she was thinking, keeping this secret from me, fr
om my family, from everybody.
Because we all knew she had a son, but nobody knew he was mine. When I see Adam ready to punch Barn, I step in.
“Enough!” My voice rises above all. “Alane and I are going to discuss this as fucking adults. Luke, go fuck your boyfriend if you need to release some anger. Barn, do what the hell you need to do. Mom, call Dad and tell him to come and discuss this all with him. As for you, Adam, stay here and wait for news on your grandmother.” I turn to Alane, who is sitting on the floor, hiding her head in her hands. “Al, let’s go outside.” I take her by the elbow and pull her to her feet. She can barely walk.
“Mom? Are you okay?” Adam comes closer.
I send him a pointed look for him to stay where he is, but he passes by me and takes his mother in his arms.
“Do you need me to come with you, Mom?” I let Alane go and walk away a few steps to give them some privacy.
It’s evident I’m not part of whatever they have together.
It hurts but I won’t let my emotions run the show until I have all the facts.
I’m angry, frustrated, disappointed and wounded, but I need her to tell me what happened before letting it all out. I need to process, and for that, I need all the details.
“I’m fine, sweetie. Let me speak to Aaron, and then I’ll explain it all to you. I’m sorry, Adam, that’s not the way I wanted you to find out who your father is.” He shrugs. The fucking kid shrugs as if knowing me wasn’t important.
“It’s okay, Mom. I kind of always wondered why we never came to see your parents and realized later in life something must have happened here.” He kisses the top of her head and walks back next to my mother, who has tears in her eyes.
She pats his leg when he sits back down next to her.
Sighing, Alane turns to me. “I’m sorry, Aar. I...” I turn my head towards the exit not wanting to hear her apology. Not here, not yet.
“Let’s go out and talk.” I walk towards the entrance and stop, waiting for her at the door. She follows; her legs wobbling, and all the bravado gained in the last weeks gone from her body.
The Alane before me is the shell of the Alane I reconnected with, the one who was blossoming around me, the one I care so much about. “Sweets, come on.” I hurry her, trying to sweeten it with the only nickname I always called her.
Once outside, we find a bench to sit on. There is a nervous tension between us. Alane removes the ties from her tiny ponytail and fidgets with the elastics on her wrists. I wait. I sure as hell won’t be the one to start this conversation. First of all, because what I would say would destroy her, and secondly, because she had twenty-six years to prepare her speech. I’m pretty sure she came to a conclusion as to what to tell me the day she would.
“So…” She closes her eyes, “We have a son…” She lets her words hang between us.
“Look at me.” She shakes her head. “Look. At. Me.” When she finally does, her brown eyes are filled with tears of regret. Under any other circumstances, I would reach over to take her in my arms, comfort her, kiss her, but not today, not now, maybe never again.
“How? We never…”
“Yeah, well… It clearly happened nonetheless.” Bringing my fingers to the bridge of my nose, I breathe in deeply, trying to calm myself.
“I’m going to need more than elusive answers, Alane, because I’m trying to keep cool, I’m trying to give you the opportunity to explain yourself, but knowing you sat on such a huge secret for so long is hard to swallow. Very fucking hard to swallow. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Seriously, Aaron?” she grumbles “Remember us at seventeen and eighteen. Would you have believed me, knowing we never had sex? My parents clearly didn’t believe me; even my aunt had trouble believing me. I had to tell her all we did, all we experienced to pinpoint the moment Adam was conceived. You want to know when? When you came on my pussy instead of my belly while I was fingering myself. Is that enough details? I realized I was pregnant after you were gone. I had no way to contact you. And after you broke my heart and told me I wasn’t enough, I wasn’t the one you wanted to spend your life with. What was I supposed to do? Chain you to me by obligation? Make you come back? You had the life you wanted. You followed your dream. I got pregnant. Became a teacher. End of story.” She shrugs.
“End of story? That’s all you have to say? So, you did that for me? You didn’t even give me a choice?”
Is she delusional?
Should I feel guilty that I didn’t know we had a son.
I still don’t understand how it happened, for fuck’s sake. She left soon after me and never came back. I thought, well, we all thought, she went to that hockey prep school. That’s what her parents said. My mother asked about her over the years, and the Smiths never said anything except she was married and had a son. I just assumed she had forgotten about me; how could I have known she was hiding a son who was mine.
“Did you give me a choice when you left for Seattle, leaving me behind? Did you allow me to decide on our future? Were you the one heartbroken when you were kissing Jess in Vancouver?” I gulp, jerking my head back.
“How do you know?”
“Funny story, I was maybe two or three months pregnant when my aunt had a book signing in Vancouver. I went with her, and I was wondering if I should drive to Seattle, try to find you to tell you, when I saw you kissing another girl while I was still pining over you. So then what? Should I have interrupted your make-out session in the hotel lobby and announce that you were going to be a dad?”
“Twenty-six years, Alane! What about when he was born?”
She scoffs, “You mean when I called wherever you were living, and Jess answered telling me you were engaged? Great timing, too. Don’t tell me I should have told you. I know that, Aaron. I fucking know it. I tried so many times, but something always happened, and after a while, I thought I would never see you again, and I did everything not to see you again. Adam had Mark anyway. He had a father. It didn’t matter. We were nothing more than a sad memory. You didn’t matter anymore.”
Bile comes up my throat, but I refuse to give in. Adam had Mark. He had a father. He still does. For the thirty seconds I saw the kid, he seems like a good one. I don’t know who this Mark is for shit, but it seems he did a good job raising my son.
“And since you were back in town?”
Tears begin to fill her eyes again. The anger of a few minutes ago being replaced by guilt.
“The first time I spoke about Adam’s father, you stopped me to speak about your ex-wife, then I had an anxiety attack at the rink, and today my phone rang. I tried Aaron. I fucking tried.” She sobs, but I can’t ease her. She can put it any way she wants, blame me for leaving, for meeting someone else, for getting engaged, I had the right to know. She deprived me of my own son. I stand to put distance between us, and without saying a word, I leave her crying on the bench, wanting her to hurt as much as I’m hurting.
Walking back inside the Health Center, I want to be sure my father’s here for my mother. I find her with my dad, having a civil discussion with Adam. As soon as they see me though, they stop talking. Both my parents look at me with a smile on their face, Adam seems suspicious of my intentions.
“I’m going to check on Alane.” My mother stands up.
“I’ll come with you.” My dad follows her. I stand alone, wondering if I should approach Adam or just leave. Not wanting to lose an opportunity to talk to him, despite my anger with his mother, I sit next to this son I don’t know, my legs spread, my elbows resting on my knees, and my hands joined by the tips of each finger. It’s a pose I find myself in a lot when I think things over.
Glancing over, I realize he sits in the exact same position. For a reason I can’t really understand, it makes me smile, my heart filled with pride. He looks like me, he reacts like me, and he has some of my expressions. The only thing different is his hair. It’s darker than mine ever was.
“Is my mom okay?” He sits up straight like a good stude
nt would.
“As much as she can be. You’re going to have to take care of her because I’m not sure I can right now.”
“I get it.” His shoulder slumps.
“So… um… What do you do?”
He lights up a little. “I write sci-fi graphic-novels, you?” Of course, he’s an artist. Luke is going to love that.
“I’m a chef.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah... my son, I mean… my other son, loves sci-fi and graphic novels.” He perks up.
“I have siblings?”
“Yeah… A sister who’s seventeen, and a brother who’s fifteen. You also have two uncles and an aunt. You’ve met Luke, the tatted guy with the beard, and Barn, the younger one who was here, he’s about seven years older than you. Salomé is thirty-five, so, nine years older than you.”
“Wow, until a few hours ago, I had Mom, Dad and Aunt Clarisse. Neither of my… parents had siblings, so that’s new.” He laughs uncomfortably.
My eyes stay on him, trying to reconcile the fact that I’m not the one he calls Dad. He might look like me but is far from being mine. Once his laugh dies, he turns towards me and looking his resolute eyes into mine.
“She’s not a bad person, you know. My mom? She’s the best, in fact. She gave me everything. Even when she divorced Mark, she let me have a relationship with him. I always knew he wasn’t my biological father. I always knew it was someone from here, but I never looked for you either. I never asked, so I guess she thought she was protecting me. All I know is that I saw her parents only twice in my life, but she didn’t hesitate when her mother’s friend called and said she needed help. She knew what she was risking, and she came back. She’s not a bad person.”