by D. K. Wall
“Visitation. A weekend a month. A week in the summer. And the boy never knows the truth. See how nice a guy I can be?”
Nathan’s mouth gaped open as his body tensed. “That’s not enough time with him. I’d have to fight that.”
“No, you won’t. Because then you’ll force me to prove he’s my son.”
“No court will accept a stupid genealogy test bought off the internet as proof.”
“Maybe not, but they will accept a paternity test.”
“I won’t take one. You can’t make me.”
A smile spread across Hank’s face. “You don’t get it. I don’t need you to take one. I’ll take it. And it will prove I’m the father.”
Desperation flared. “I won’t let Jacob take it.”
The smile spread further, and Hank’s blue eyes grew icy cold. “You won’t have a say. Donna will get temporary custody for sure, thanks to your stunt yesterday. And she’ll authorize it. No court would agree to not find out the truth anyway. Face it—you can’t stop it. Once those test results are back, it’s over. Done. You’re out. No claim to him at all.”
“No. No way. I raised him. You didn’t do anything all those years.”
“No one told me I was the father. As soon as the test proves I am, then I have rights. And you won’t.”
“But I raised him. The court has to see that.”
Hank poked a finger in Nathan’s chest, jabbing between his ribs. “All the court will see is a guy convicted of assault and domestic violence, who can’t even pay attention to a restraining order. Caught sneaking up near his wife and the boy—my boy—during a peaceful day at the park and hiding in the woods. One call from me, and they’ll know you’re a danger to him. And then, while you sit in a jail cell, I’ll prove you’re not even a blood relative. You’ll be nothing.”
“I thought you weren’t going to press charges.”
“Donna doesn’t want to. But I will. Unless, of course, you agree to Donna having full custody. And her moving to Atlanta with Jacob. If you agree to that, the boy never has to know that his father isn’t his father. It’ll be our little secret.”
“And what prevents you from just waiting and taking the paternity test later?”
“Nothing. You just have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” Nathan felt the anger rising in him again. “How can I trust you?”
“Because you have no choice.” Hank pulled out his cell phone and started dialing. “Agree right now, or I call the police and tell them you’re violating the restraining order. The cops will arrest you right here, in front of your kid.” He grinned. “I mean my kid.”
“Stop. Please don’t call.”
Hank pressed his thumb against a button to cancel the call and held the phone high in the air. “Then we have a deal?”
Panic crept through Nathan’s quivering body as he struggled with the best answer. He could accept a deal that felt patently unfair and was based on details he had never known but at least gave him an option to remain in Jacob’s life, or he could choose to fight and risk losing the boy who was the focus of his life.
He wanted to get away, to have time to think, but Hank was forcing him into a corner. Distraction came via the sound of footsteps in the woods, interrupting them. He turned to see Donna coming toward them.
She waved at the two of them and asked, “What are you doing?”
Seeing his estranged wife approach, his panic exploded. She could back up Hank’s story to the police, and Jacob would see him led away in handcuffs. The whole town would.
Nathan backed up the nature trail. “I’m leaving, I swear.”
She cocked her head and looked at him. “Why are you two back here in the woods?”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to violate the restraining order. I just wanted to see Jacob’s game.” He waved his hands at the two of them. “Finding out about you two, getting arrested, having my lottery ticket stolen… and now I don’t even have a son. It’s just too much.” He turned and ran up the nature trail, leaving Hank and Donna to watch him disappear.
22
Nathan ran as hard as he could up the nature trail, fear and anger powering his strides. His work boots pounded the ground. He raced past a young woman on the trail, fear etched on her face as she grabbed her daughter and pulled her to safety, away from the crazy man.
At the point the trail looped and started heading back downhill, he plunged into the woods toward the Point and scrambled over fallen trees and hidden rocks. Branches slapped his face as he stumbled through the dense forest. The thorns of a blackberry bush raked the exposed skin of his arm, digging deep and drawing blood.
His foot sank deep in a hole covered by a thick layer of leaves, which twisted his ankle and threw him forward. To break his fall, he grabbed a tree trunk, the rough bark scraping his palm. Wincing in pain, he extracted his foot and shook off the dirt.
Slowing his breathing and fighting to gain control of his emotions, he pushed aside a branch to continue his march. A startled bird flitted away, squawking its displeasure at the interruption. Ignoring its protests, he scrambled up the slope. When the grade became too steep, he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled.
Finally, he broke through the last of the trees to the clearing. His legs burning from the exertion, he stumbled toward his truck and leaned on the hood, panting to catch his breath. Sweat dripped down his face as he turned and looked over the park below.
The ballgame continued, the boys blissfully unaware of the chaos around them. Donna walked swiftly back to Matt and Colette, who were standing to meet her. She had her arms wrapped around her chest as Hank, a few steps behind her, waved his arms in an animated conversation.
Are they calling the police? Am I going back to jail? Have I screwed my last chance to be with my son?
But Jacob isn’t my son. Hank didn’t even leave me that.
No police car was entering the parking lot, but Nathan wasn’t going to wait for one to arrive. He pushed off the truck and stumbled to the driver’s door. As he climbed inside, he dropped the keys to the floor. Cursing, he picked them up, fumbled through the ring until he found the right one, and jabbed it into the ignition. He pumped the gas and turned the key. The engine sputtered and died. He tried again before it roared to life.
Throwing the truck into gear, he stomped on the accelerator. Dirt sprayed from behind his spinning tires as he circled the vehicle through the clearing and drove into the darkness of the forest. The truck bounced and rattled as he pushed it faster and faster, branches slapping against his windshield.
He marveled how everything had fallen apart so fast. Jacob had sat right beside him in this truck just the morning before, back when they both thought the worst thing possible was to have a birds-and-bees talk. Now, he might never get to have a father-son moment ever again.
The sharp curve at the creek came into view. The scarred boulder loomed just beyond the turn. The turn Danny hadn’t slowed down for that cost so much. If he wrecked now, no one would even know he was here. He might lie in the mud for hours before some hapless teenager headed to the Point stumbled across his body trapped in the wreckage.
Maybe he would be thrown through the windshield and land in the creek, gasping in the water as Charlie had done—a fitting end as the cold mountain water filled his lungs.
Jacob’s face flashed through his mind. Lost. Alone. His father ripped away from him. Nathan knew that pain too.
He slammed on the brakes, and the truck skidded across the ruts and shuddered to a stop, the engine stalling in protest. He slumped his head against the steering wheel and let the tears flow as frustration overwhelmed him.
The fleeting thought of ending everything scared him to the core. He knew loss, more than maybe most people his age—tragedy, anguish—but he had never given up, never even toyed with the idea.
This was not going to be the first time.
He sucked in deep breaths to clear his mind. He leaned back against the seat and clos
ed his eyes until his body stopped shaking. He listened as the water splashed, flowing down the stream. A gentle breeze rustled the treetops. Birds whistled their tunes as they protected their nests and fed their hatchlings.
Nathan paced his breathing to match the serenity of nature around him and opened his eyes. He watched a squirrel dart across the forest floor, scamper up a tree, and disappear into a hole in the trunk. He imagined a nest of baby squirrels tucked in the warmth and safety.
A deer stepped cautiously into the clearing. She sniffed the air and turned her head, searching for threats. She gingerly stepped to the edge of the bank, lowered her snout, and lapped fresh water. A spotted fawn stumbled after her, its legs unsure.
The doe turned and nuzzled the youngster, pushing it back into the brush for protection. The baby was supposed to stay hidden, safe to grow until it was strong enough and old enough to take care of itself.
Nathan watched without moving, not wanting to spook them. After they had disappeared, he listened to the symphony of the forest and smiled as a calmness settled over him.
He reached for his cell phone and dialed. Danny sensed trouble and asked right away if everything was okay.
“I ran into Hank and Donna at the ballgame.”
“Thought you were going to watch from the Point.”
“I got closer so I could see better. Hid in the woods.”
“Not well enough, I’m guessing.”
“No,” Nathan admitted. “I think they’re going to report me for violating the restraining order.”
“I was afraid of that. What happened?”
“Nothing. I swear. I left the second Donna walked up. But before she came over, Hank told me some stuff. Some crazy stuff. Listen…” He relayed the conversation, the revelation of the high school affair, the shock of the genetic test, and the reality of Jacob’s parentage. Once he finished the story, he sat quietly, phone to his ear, waiting for Danny to absorb it all.
“So now what?” Danny asked.
“I’m not ready to give up. I almost did… for a second.” He shuddered as he gazed at the boulder in front of his bumper. “As crazy as it sounds, I want to fight for Jacob and for what’s right for him. He needs me in his life. There has to be a way that’s fair for Donna that’s also good for him.”
Though he expected Danny to explain why it wouldn’t work, he instead replied, “Then let’s figure it out. Come to the trailer, and I’ll make dinner when I get home.”
“I better not. If they call the cops, we’ll have good ol’ Officer Carrington knocking at the door again.”
“You can’t run from that.”
“I’m not running. I’m just delaying. They’ll keep me there until Monday morning no matter when they find me, so no reason to start that any earlier than I have to.”
“Fair enough. Where do you want to meet?”
“At the Point?”
“It’s Saturday. High school kids will start showing up there soon. We’re a little old for that.”
Nathan stared into the forest as he thought. “What about Jared Hampton’s old place? It’s abandoned, and no one would have any reason to think I would be there.”
“Better than the trailer. I haven’t seen it in years. I’ll get dinner and meet you out there as soon as I finish up here.”
“You still at Sammy’s?”
“No, I’m…” Danny paused. “I’ll explain when I see you. Give me a little time. I’ll be there by five.”
23
At the end of the fire road, Nathan turned away from town and drove his truck up the curvy road deeper into the mountains. Within a few miles, an old crumbling rock wall appeared on the left and outlined an overgrown drive diverging through the woods. He inched through brush as tall as the hood of his truck as he navigated through the trees of the dense forest, praying that no trees had fallen across the road and no giant rocks were hidden from view.
After several hundred yards, the trees abruptly yielded to an open, rolling field. The mountains were dotted with farms carved into the hillsides by the settlers in the 1700s. The Hampton farm was one of the oldest in the Millerton region, passed from generation to generation, and belonged to Jared Hampton, an old classmate. As children, they had played together in these fields, hiding in the rows of tall summer corn.
When they were in the eighth grade, Jared’s father suffered a massive heart attack and died among the rows of plants. His son found him when he came home from school and headed out to the fields for his daily chores.
Knowing the pressure of keeping a family farm going, many expected the boy to drop out of school, as so many sons of farmers had through the ages. But Jared already knew enough about the struggles of earning a living growing crops and managing a small herd of cattle, so he had other plans. Or maybe he’d never intended to take over the farm even if his father had lived.
He doubled down on his studies, worked on homework long after the sun set and his chores were done, and earned a scholarship to college. Like many children of Millerton, he left to find a life away from farming and manufacturing.
Today, he lived in Charlotte, Atlanta, or Nashville—Nathan couldn’t remember which since they were all just big cities with traffic and crime—doing some job that required a tie around his neck. Nathan couldn’t fathom how that was better than calluses on your hands and being at the mercy of the weather, but Jared must have thought so because he rarely returned to Millerton.
The last return trip was a decade before, after the old family home was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. The land had been for sale off and on over the years, with a faded sheet of plywood giving a phone number posted by the main road, but no buyers saw value. The farm was just another large tract of land, too far from town on a remote road to build manufacturing, too little demand for housing, and not high enough in the mountains to attract the millionaires to build their monstrous second homes.
Nathan maneuvered his truck past the stone foundation of the old farmhouse. The fireplace’s stonework rose over the charred wood like a headstone marking a grave.
He parked in front of a large wooden barn, its paint long faded from decades in the sun and wind, and admired the scenery. Acres of overgrown grasses and weeds swayed in the breeze, the scent of wildflowers wafting through the air. Silence descended as he killed the motor, only the ticking of the hot engine in his ears.
Sitting in the truck, absorbing the warm afternoon sunshine, he found his mind drifting back to pleasant memories of his own childhood. He surprised himself when he realized he was speaking out loud. “Dad. I need some help here.”
He felt his father’s arms wrap around his shoulders and sensed his ears attuned to his words. A calmness descended over him. “I can handle a lot. You’ve taught me that. But this… it’s too much. I don’t know how you handled everything so well.
“I remember that day you picked me up from school and told me about getting laid off from the plant. A man’s first responsibility, you said, was to his family, so you were going to drive that semi and be gone for days at a time. To give me what I needed, you had to leave me for long stretches. I was confused we had to be separated so you could take care of me. I wanted to ride in the truck with you so we could be together, but you said it didn’t work that way.”
He stared out the window and watched clouds drift across the peaceful skies. “You said I would be okay while you were gone because Ronnie would look out for me. He would treat me just like he did Charlie. And he did. Made me do chores and my homework. Listened to me and gave me advice.
“I don’t think you imagined never coming home, but Ronnie took me in without question after your wreck. Living with him wasn’t the same as having you around, but it was the next best thing. He wasn’t my father—he’d never replace you and never tried to—but it felt like I still had a dad.”
A hawk sailed across the sky, gliding in the wind drafts, effortlessly floating. “So does that mean to take care of Jacob, I need to be away from him
? Would he be better off in Atlanta? Have more opportunities? Make a better life? Am I being selfish trying to keep him here with me?”
He sighed and gripped the steering wheel. “But is Hank a good man? Can I trust him? Do I even have a choice if he’s Jacob’s father?”
The hawk dove toward the ground and disappeared into the grasses. A second later, she reappeared, wings flapping hard as her talons gripped a field mouse. She flew toward the trees, taking her meal with her.
“You never stopped trying for me, did you? Sure, we were separated, but you came home over and over. You didn’t abandon me. You were taken from me.” He paused and looked around. “Maybe I’m like Ronnie—not his dad by blood but his dad in every other way.”
Nathan nodded, understanding flowing through him. “So that’s what I have to do, isn’t it? Never quit trying for Jacob. Whether he is my child or not, I’m responsible for making sure that the best thing possible for him happens, whatever that is.”
He felt exhaustion settle over him. The last two days had been filled with conflict, trauma, and grief. He needed to take advantage of the peace and quiet of the farm to focus his mind. And nothing was like soaking up the spring sunshine to help a person relax.
He stepped out of the truck, stretched, and walked into the barn. Empty stalls covered one side, a wooden feed bin on the exterior wall. Old tractor implements sat abandoned in the rear, the tractor and more valuable parts long ago sold or stolen. Initials were carved in the leaning support beams. The smell of rotting hay drifted through the air.
He gathered the cleanest of the straw from deep in the shadows of the barn and spread it across the bed of his pickup truck. Satisfied with its inviting comfort, he stretched out on top of it. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the sun hitting his body. Slowing his racing thoughts, he organized his mountain of troubles, intending to focus on them one at a time. But within minutes, his eyes grew heavy, and he drifted to sleep.
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