by Yessi Smith
“Yeah,” he breathes out. His foot starts tapping, but his gaze never wavers. “I know how this must look to you, but I loved your mom. I loved you.”
I flinch at his words, and my own foot starts tapping while I squeeze Yanelys’s fingers tighter.
“Do you still love her?”
“Camden…”
“It’s a simple question, Edward. Forget Herb. Forget me. My mom—do you still love her?”
“Yes.” His admission is quiet, barely above a whisper.
“Okay.” I stand up, taking Yanelys with me. “Read the letter. I’ll be in the car, waiting for you.”
“Wh—I don’t understand.” His eyes dart from mine to Yanelys, confusion clear in his expression.
“Read the damn letter, Edward. My mom needs your help.”
I don’t wait for a response. I simply walk out of the living room, my heart thrashing inside my chest. I open his door and make a quick dash to the car. When I reach for the car door, slender arms wrap around my waist. I turn around and hold on to Yanelys.
Inhale and exhale.
Each breath falls on her dark hair as she buries her face into my chest. I sink my hands into her hair and methodically comb my fingers through the thick strands. My breathing steadies. My heart continues its rage-filled quest to beat out of my chest.
“You’re going to ask Edward to talk to your mom with you?” Yanelys asks.
“I don’t think I can reach her, Yan, but maybe Edward can.”
“After reading the letter, what if he wants to be a part of your life and get to know you?”
I sigh, rough and loud. “I’m almost twenty-five years old. It’s kind of late for him to play daddy.”
“That’s not his fault.” Her voice pleads with me.
My fingers continue to braid through her hair. “I have a dad,” I remind her. “I don’t need another one.”
“What about a friend?” Edward’s voice hits me.
Painfully, I close my eyes shut.
“Are you going to help my mom or not?” I open my eyes and meet his from over Yanelys’s head.
“Camden,” Yanelys breathes my name in warning and she pulls away from me.
“It’s fine,” Edward tells her. “Of course I’ll help your mom.” He swallows hard. “How can I help her?”
Rather than answer, I laugh and shake my head.
“Let’s go.” I open the car door while Yanelys scurries to the passenger side.
“Wha—now?”
My eyes narrow, and a humorless smile plays across my lips as the hatred I hold for my parents flows through my veins. “No,” I tell him, “maybe we should wait another day and see if she finally overdoses and dies.”
“Camden Riley,” Yanelys scolds from the other side of my car at the same time Edward asks, “Overdoses?”
“What?” I shoot her a pained expression, and her eyes soften.
“Can you excuse us for a minute, Mr. Riley?” Yanelys gets into the car before he has a chance to answer.
After she shuts her car door, I open mine and take my seat behind the steering wheel where I drum my fingers.
“Cam,” she says quietly, her hand going to my thigh and squeezing, “do you remember how well Livvy took the news that you were her dad?”
“This is different.” My voice comes out raw as I remember the moment she put her arms around my neck and told me she loved me. “He’s the reason my dad hated me. Why he couldn’t stand to see me unless it was to hit me.”
Sorrow and anger hit me hard, making my head pulse with the beginning of a migraine.
“So, you blame him for your dad being an abusive asshole?” she asks, her frustration simmering to the surface.
“Yeah!” I shout. “If he hadn’t fucked my mom—”
“You wouldn’t be alive,” she interrupts. “You wouldn’t be sitting here with me. Livvy wouldn’t be alive. He slept with your mom, but it was Herb who hurt you.” Her voice softens as her eyes seek mine. “Not Edward. That man”—she points to where Edward is waiting outside the car—“he cares about you. Don’t be afraid to let him.” Her fingers touch my face and trace over my lips. “Just give him a chance. If he’s as much of a prick as Herb was, I’ll take a bat to his back, and he’ll wish we never stepped foot on his doorstep.”
Despite myself, I chuckle, the image of Yanelys defending me playing perfectly in my mind.
“Fine,” I whisper, making her smile.
I bring her to me, lightly kissing her on her lips, before I roll down the window and ask Edward to come into the car.
The drive to the run-down area where my mom lives is quiet with only the sound of the engine to break the silence.
“Stay close to me,” I tell Yanelys when I put the car in park.
When I asked her to come with me, I wasn’t thinking clearly. All I thought about was how scared I was of seeing my mom again, knowing she’d reject my offer. I never once thought of the dangers I’d expose Yanelys to in the dark alleys or abandoned buildings my mom called home.
Our footsteps fall on the hard ground, echoing into the darkness of the looming night. I guide Yanelys and Edward around the other homeless people living on the streets as I make our way to my mom’s favorite spot.
“Maureen…your mom—she lives here?” Edward asks, his throat bobbing, when I walk through a broken door into a dilapidated building.
His fear and anguish hit me, and I stop walking to take him in. I don’t know this man, but I see and understand his despair. He loves my mom. Through the years, he never stopped loving her. And, suddenly, I came into his life, without warning or preamble, and I threw him into the downward spiral that had been my life.
“I’m sorry, Edward,” I say, sympathy washing over me. “I never met the woman you fell in love with. She was a horrible mom, but maybe it wasn’t her fault.” I stop, my voice cracking, and my hands go to my face. “She’s my mom, and I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive her, but I know addiction. I can’t help her—I know that—but Herb thought if she had any chance of being saved, it was by you. If you don’t want to do this…” I trail off, not really wanting to give him an easy out.
Edward breathes heavily, taking me in. “I have to try.” His words come out strangled, but he steps forward, putting a tentative hand on my shoulder. When I don’t move away from his touch, he says, “I’m sorry I left. I didn’t know how bad it was. Your dad…” He coughs. “Herb hated me after he found out about your mom and me, but I never thought he’d lied about the paternity test. I never imagined he’d lie about that or that he’d hurt you or your mom. I would’ve done something. I—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I interrupt. “It’s done; it’s in the past. I’ve moved on from it.”
“But I just learned about it. I’m trying to come to grips with what I turned my back on, and damn it, Camden, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for everything.” He looks at me, sincerity and remorse spilling from behind his eyes.
“It’s fine. It’s not your fault.” Our eyes lock for a few seconds before I swallow the tension and turn away from him. “She should be in here somewhere,” I say, wanting to get the night over with.
Yanelys’s hand touches mine, and I tightly grip her fingers with my own. In silence, we pass through the corridors, stepping over a few sleeping figures. I sense my mom the moment we enter the room she’s staying in. It takes a few beats of my erratic heart for me to spot her tired figure leaning against the dirty wall with a pipe pressed between her lips.
“Mom,” I whisper.
Edward’s eyes dart toward the figure I’m staring at, but she never hears me or sees us approach.
“Mom.” I bend down in front of her.
Her bloodshot eyes look back at me, but her gaze passes over me and settles on Edward.
“Maureen,” he says, crouching down beside me and taking her hand in his. “My beautiful Maureen.” He pulls her to him and cradles her small figure on his lap.
“Is this real?” s
he asks, pressing her face against his chest. Her pipe falls to the ground with a loud crash. “Ed, are you real?” She touches a shaky hand to his face and sobs when her fingers make contact. “You’re here. How?”
“Camden found me,” he whispers into her thinning hair.
“Cam?” she asks, her eyes clearing when they see me.
Unease crosses her face, and she stands up on unsteady legs. Her anger hits me in waves, so I stand up as well, but I hold my ground when Yanelys takes my hand and leans her head onto my shoulder.
“Why?” My mom’s eyes narrow in accusation.
“Because I want you to get clean,” I answer simply.
She throws her head back in hysterical laughter, and Yanelys’s hold on my hand tightens as her body stiffens. I squeeze it in reassurance, but her body stays tense next to mine.
“Maureen.” Edward puts a gentle but sturdy hand on her shoulder.
She shrugs it off and directs the same heated eyes of my youth toward him.
He backs away a couple of steps. “What did he do to you?”
“Your brother?” she spits the words at him. “He beat me. He raped me. Every time he remembered how much he hated you, he’d turn his anger on me.”
“And Camden,” Yanelys speaks up. “Don’t act like you’re the only one who knew Herb’s anger.” She steps forward, taking me with her, and we both invade my mom’s personal space. “The difference is that Camden was a child, and it was your job to protect him.”
“I couldn’t protect him from Herb. There is no protection from a man like that.”
“You could’ve left him,” Yanelys presses.
“No!” she shouts, her words echoing against the bare walls. “He would’ve killed us both if I’d tried to leave.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper, pulling Yanelys to me and wrapping my arms around her waist. “All that matters now is you getting clean.”
My mom laughs again, shaking her head at me. “Are you stupid?” she asks.
“I’ll give you half of my inheritance,” I offer.
Her eyes widen in shock. “You got your inheritance?” She licks her lips, her eyes growing hungry at the thought.
“Not yet,” I admit, “but I’m going to. You won’t see a dime of it if you don’t get clean.”
“Camden,” she whines, her hands going to my chest, pawing at me in desperation.
Letting go of Yanelys, I hold my mom at arm’s length. “Get clean,” I say through clenched teeth.
“You worthless piece of shit,” she hisses at me, pushing my chest with the little strength she has. “Herb always said you were worthless. Stupid.” She bites out the words.
I flinch, my stomach dropping, as I listen to her.
“The day you were taken from us was the best day of our lives.”
“Enough!” Edward roars, grabbing her by her shoulders and spinning her around so that she’s facing him. “That is your son! Our son. My son,” he whispers.
My heart drums in my chest at his quick acceptance of me.
“I love you, Maureen. I always will, but I won’t stand by and let you speak to him like that.”
“Yeah?” She narrows her eyes at him. “Where were you to stop me when he was younger? To stop Herb from beating him to near death? You’re too late.” A loud slap resonates in the dark room when her hand makes contact with his cheek.
“No, he’s not,” I admit. “It’s not too late for you either. I’m offering you half of my inheritance right now. When I leave, I won’t be offering it again. I’ll forget you. I won’t worry about you, and I won’t care when you die, and your body rots in this place. It’s up to you.”
“Leave.” Sad eyes meet mine, and my heart hurts for the woman I call Mom. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want you. I never wanted you.” She closes her eyes, pressing her lips together so that the outer edges grow white.
Hurt, I turn around, Yanelys’s hand seeking mine, and I don’t look back.
THIRTY-EIGHT
YANELYS
My body molds against Camden’s as we lie awake in our bed. I kiss his bare shoulder, and he turns on his side so that he’s facing me. His lips touch my temple while my hands run over his back in soothing circles.
He hasn’t spoken since we left Maureen. We drove Edward back home in silence. The only words uttered came when Edward and Camden exchanged phone numbers, and Camden agreed to see Edward on Christmas Day.
It’s been a rough, long day that didn’t exactly end well. I know Camden hoped Maureen would take his offer and seek help, but deep down, I think we both knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She was simply too far gone.
She endured a lot at Herb’s hand, and I shudder at the thought of her being raped by the man she married.
“Do you think Edward will really come over on Christmas?” Camden asks.
My chest tightens at the hope I hear in his voice, and I say a silent prayer that Edward won’t disappoint him.
“Yeah, I think he’ll come,” I reply honestly.
Before he even read Herb’s letter and found out the truth, I saw how much he cared for Camden. After that, remorse and a desperate need to make things right were evident on the planes of his face.
“I think Livvy would like him,” he says. Even with the surrounding darkness of our room, our eyes meet. “I think I could like him, too.”
My chest squeezes tighter, knowing Camden’s still seeking acceptance, still believing he’s unworthy of it.
“I like you.” I lean forward and touch his lips with mine. “I like you a lot.”
“You love me,” he corrects, pressing his mouth to mine, hard and full of emotion.
“I do,” I admit.
“Thank you for coming with me today. I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”
“Whatever you need, Cam. We’re in this together.”
His fingers find mine beneath the covers, and with our hands connected, we finally fall asleep.
Loud voices and laughter ring in my ear, waking me from a deep sleep. When I open my eyes, Camden kisses my nose and smiles back at me.
“I think your parents brought Livvy over before taking her to school.”
“You think?” I groan, covering my face with the covers.
Camden crawls under the covers with me and pulls my body to him. “Stay in bed, beautiful. I’m gonna see if she wants me to make her an omelet.”
“Great.” I sigh dramatically. “Keep this up, and you’re gonna be her favorite parent before the year’s over.”
Camden laughs at my sarcasm and scrambles off the bed, so he can get dressed and spend time with our daughter before she goes to school.
Through the closed door, I listen to Camden’s and Olivia’s animated voices, and before my parents can rush Olivia to school, I get dressed and go to the kitchen.
“Who wants to miss school today?” I ask.
Four pairs of eyes meet mine in astonishment, their forks full of eggs halted in midair.
“What?” I ask. “She only has a couple of days before school stops for winter break. What’s the big deal?”
“Nothing,” my mom replies. “It’s just that you give her a hard time about missing school when she’s sick, so…” The sides of her lips lift as she trails off.
“Whatever,” I mutter. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Can I miss the rest of the week, too?” she asks, her eyes holding the hope of innocent youth.
“I don’t know. Dad”—my eyes meet Camden’s, and his grin widens—“what do you think?”
“I’m okay with it if…” He draws out the last word.
“If what?” Olivia asks, eager to know.
“If you let me read the Star Wars books to you.”
Her nose scrunches up as she weighs her options, and I stifle a laugh.
“Fine,” she huffs, “but I don’t see why we can’t just watch the movies.”
“Better books are,” Camden replies in his best Yoda voice.
Olivia looks back at him in confusion. “You’re so weird sometimes.” She bites her bottom lip when he laughs at her. “Can I put my pajamas back on?”
“Yeah,” Camden replies. Then, he looks back at me in question.
I tuck my head down, giving him control over this simple decision, and from the corner of my eye, I see him smile.
“Just put away your book bag,” he calls after her.
She quickly spins around and runs back to the kitchen where she picks up her bag and runs to her room with Nisa close behind her.
“Good call,” I say when I hear her close her door.
“Eat,” Camden orders, placing a plate with toast and a large omelet in front of me.
Cutting a piece with my fork, I put it in my mouth and hum in pleasure as the egg and cheese melt on my tongue. “This,” I say between bites, “this is heaven.”
On the kitchen counter, my phone vibrates, so I grab it and see a text from Edward flash on the screen, asking Camden how he’s doing.
“We really need to get you your own phone,” I tell Camden, handing him my phone.
His eyes widen when he reads the text, and pleasure crosses his face as he reads it again.
“Who’s it from?” my mom asks.
“Edward,” Camden replies, his nerves making him shift from foot to foot.
“When do we get to meet him?” my dad asks, putting a hand on Camden’s shoulder, making the tension visibly ease away.
“He said he was going to come over on Christmas.” Joy and uncertainty cross his face, and he bites his bottom lip.
“He seems like a good guy,” I offer, remembering how Edward stood up for Camden when his mom verbally attacked him.
“Yeah, he does,” Camden agrees, eyeing my parents for their reaction.
“We’re looking forward to meeting him, Cam, but this doesn’t change anything between us. You’re our son. Nothing will change that. We want you to get to know Edward, and if he’s a good man, we want you to have a relationship with him. If, one day, you see him as your dad, that’s fine with us. It’s fine with me,” my dad emphasizes. “You’ll still be my son.”