Unconditional

by Linda Rettstatt

  “If we had talked, Ryan wouldn’t be here.”

  We both stopped to take in ragged breaths. This was our bloodiest battle yet. And probably the most honest in terms of emotion, at least for me.

  “Meg—”

  I held up a hand. “I need a minute.” I turned and stumbled into the bathroom. A madwoman stared back at me from the mirror—swollen eyes, cherry red nose, and blotchy cheeks. I splashed cold water on my face and dragged a brush through my hair. Lowering the lid on the toilet, I sat down. I realized that all of the civility and courtesy I had extended to Thomas over the past months had not been real. It had been me trying to act my way into feeling something I didn’t. I didn’t feel civil and I wasn’t inclined to forgiveness. I wanted to pummel him into the ground. At the same time, I wanted to hang onto him and pray he would be all right.

  When I reached the kitchen, Thomas stood at the sink staring out into the blackness of the night.

  “Thomas, I…uh… This blowout was a long time coming. You’re right. I should have talked with you before stopping birth control. I think in some way I knew something was wrong and I was afraid if I opened that discussion, you would confirm my suspicions. Only I thought it was another woman.”

  He dragged his fingers through his hair. “It’s too late for that discussion now. Perhaps we should meet with our attorneys to work out the divorce.”

  “No. We can do this. I’ve already made some notes.”

  He turned, his face haggard. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

  An hour later, we had hashed out all of the particulars of our divorce. There were only two issues, really—financial matters and Ryan. Finances were easy to discuss.

  I leaned back against the sink, weighing my next words. “When Ryan stays with you, will…uh…will Francisco—”

  “Yes, he will be there. He lives there. With me.” His voice tightened.

  Another reminder I had been replaced. Another slap. I held up my palms. “I just want to know if you intend to have him take care of our son. I don’t know if he has a clue about feeding or changing or bathing. Do you know how many babies drown because someone leaves them unattended during a bath?”

  “When Ryan is with me, I will be caring for him. He’s my son. Will I leave him in his playpen under Francisco’s watchful eye long enough to use the bathroom? Yes. But I’ll be the one to feed him, bathe him, and rock him to sleep.”

  I tried not to look too relieved. “I’d have the same concerns about my sister if I didn’t already know she used to babysit in high school.” I sat down again.

  “Right.” Thomas fixed his gaze on the legal pad. “I’m glad we worked this out. I want you to remember that, if things get tight financially, you can tell me.” He reached for my hand. “Or if you need a break or want to go out of town for a few days, I can arrange time off work to keep Ryan.”

  I jerked my hand away. “Thanks. And if you need to go out of town for business on any of your scheduled days, we can trade off.”

  He stared at his empty hand. “Well…I guess we’re finished here. So, I’ll call Harrison Taylor and see if he can file the divorce papers for us.”

  I nodded. “Why don’t I type up our agreement and send it to you so you can print it out for him? I’ll have time over the weekend.”

  “Okay.” He handed me the yellow pad. “I’ll let you know when we need to meet at Harrison’s office to sign everything.”

  Things were suddenly awkward, as if we no longer knew how to be with each other. We had stepped over a fence, to the other side of our relationship. I felt both relieved and sad. Then I heard Ryan’s muffled cry through the monitor. “I’d better check on him.”

  “Yes. I’ll let myself out.”

  “You’ll let me know what the medical tests show?”

  “I will.” We walked to front door. He removed his jacket from the coat tree, shrugged into it. “Talk to you soon.”

  “Sure.” I headed back to the nursery as Ryan’s cry escalated. I heard the door close behind Thomas, and I felt the vibration in my heart. I swiped away a tear and bent over the crib. “Hey, Ryan. It’s okay. Mama’s right here.” I cuddled him against my chest and pressed my cheek against his head. And I wept for what we’d both lost.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Three weeks later, Thomas arrived on a Friday to take Ryan for his first overnight. It was the first time my son and I would spend the night more than fifteen feet away from one another. I was a wreck, but I said nothing to Thomas. “Okay, let me do one last check—diapers, extra clothes, formula, bottles, his binky, his blanket…”

  Grinning, Thomas stared down into the gaping bag and said, “His mommy?”

  Heat warmed my face. “Sorry, okay? It’s not that he’s going with you. It’s just that he’s going without me.”

  Thomas hoisted the diaper bag onto his shoulder. “Do you have plans for the evening?”

  “Audrey’s coming over to watch a movie.”

  “Why don’t the two of you go out? You need to socialize with other adults.”

  “Audrey’s an adult.”

  “You know what I’m saying. I’m not trying to push you off onto some poor schmuck who would soon discover he’s the luckiest man alive. I want to see you happy.”

  I shifted Ryan in my arms. “I am happy.”

  Thomas adjusted the strap of the diaper bag and reached for the baby. “Okay, fulfilled then.”

  I secured the hood on Ryan’s tiny sweatshirt. “You be a good boy for daddy.”

  “I’ll have him back tomorrow at six.”

  “Okay,” I choked.

  I’d barely reached the kitchen when the doorbell rang. I hurried back to the door, certain Thomas had decided Ryan needed to stay with his mama. But I opened the door to find Audrey standing there with a brown paper bag smelling of Kung Pao chicken. “Oh, I thought… Never mind. Come in.”

  “Who did you think would be at the door? You were expecting me.” She handed me the food and removed her jacket.

  “I thought Thomas was bringing Ryan back.”

  “When did he pick him up?”

  “Five minutes ago.”

  She stared at me. “Oh, honey. Ryan will be fine.”

  “I know. I’m not sure about myself.” I carried the food to the kitchen and Audrey followed. “Aud, you want to go out tonight instead of sitting here?”

  “Out?”

  “Yeah, get some dinner out, maybe listen to music.”

  She eyed me warily. “Where did that come from?”

  “I need to get out more. Give me five minutes to change. Would you put the food in the fridge? Thanks.” I hustled to my bedroom.

  Audrey called after me, “What about what I’m wearing? I didn’t dress to go out.”

  She wore a pair of jeans and a soft blue sweater that made her eyes look amazing. “You look great. I’m not dressing up. I’ll wear jeans, too. Come in here and I’ll fix your makeup.”

  “I’m not wearing makeup.”

  “I know.”

  After applying eye shadow and lipstick over Audrey’s protests, I stepped back and admired my work. “You have your contacts?”

  “No.”

  “Too bad. Well, you can take your glasses off once we get there.”

  “No, I can’t. And where is ‘there’?”

  I checked my hair once more in the mirror. “I don’t know yet. Some place that has decent food and entertainment. We can leave as soon as I call Thomas and check on the baby.”

  She laughed. “You’re going to be on the phone all night, aren’t you? He’s probably not even home yet.”

  I ignored her chiding and punched in Thomas’s phone number. He answered on the second ring. “Hello, Meg.”

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “Caller I.D. Yes, we made it home in one piece. Ryan is just fine. I thought you and your sister were watching a movie.”

  “Yeah, we’re…um…going out to eat. I just wanted to check with you before we leave. I�
��ll have my cell with me, in case—”

  “Meg, I can handle our son. Go out and have a nice dinner.”

  “You’ll call me if you have a question? He gets cranky at bedtime because he’s teething.”

  “I remember. I have the stuff you gave me to rub on his gums. Anything else?”

  I swallowed hard. “N-No.”

  “Good. Have a nice evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The phone went dead.

  Audrey stood by the front door. “Are you about ready to go? I’m starving.”

  “Be right there.”

  Half an hour later, we were seated in a booth at a local sports bar known for hot wings and big screens. A college baseball game was displayed on flat panels mounted above the bar and on the rear walls. The ratio of men to women was about three to one. The men appeared to be mostly college-aged, and for a moment, I felt relief. Not one of these guys was going to try to hit on a thirty-one-year-old woman still carrying baby weight. But that didn’t stop me from checking them out.

  A young waitress wearing gold shorts and a Pittsburgh Pirates v-neck jersey stopped at our booth. After giving our food orders, I asked, “Do you have live entertainment here later?”

  She snorted. “Only after some of the guys down a few pitchers of beer. It can get pretty entertaining then. I’ll be right back with your orders.”

  I glanced at Audrey. “You want to go somewhere else?”

  “Home?” she asked hopefully.

  “No. We are not going home. Not until we have a good time.”

  She forced a smile. “I’m having a blast. Are you satisfied now? What’s this all about?”

  I toyed with the silverware. “When Thomas and I moved ahead with the divorce proceedings, a door closed on that part of my life. I could practically hear the slam. Now I have a choice to make. I can live with that closed door and be a mom and go to work and take care of my house. Or I can open another door to possibilities for the future.” I looked into her beautifully made up eyes that only I could see behind her glasses. “I don’t want be alone for the rest of my life. I don’t want to be one of those women who dotes on her son and depends on him to fill her emotional void.”

  “So we’re…cruising?”

  I laughed and looked around at the young men occupying the bar. “Not unless you want to get arrested. Tonight we’re just having dinner. And window shopping.”

  The waitress returned and set down our drinks and baskets of chicken wings. “If you ladies are looking for a place with entertainment, you should check out Runner’s downtown on the strip. It’s on the waterfront. A friend of mine is in a band and they’re playing tonight.”

  “Thanks. Maybe we will.” I smiled until she left. “Did you hear that? She called us ‘ladies’. When did we become ladies?” I asked Audrey.

  She picked up a chicken wing. “Welcome to the thirties.” She chomped into the wing and sauce coated her lips. She devoured the chicken, then licked her fingers.

  By the time we finished our meal, the bar was jammed with college co-eds. I observed their slender, shapely bodies barely covered by short skirts and midriff tops, and I suddenly felt old. I picked up our check and removed my credit card from my wallet. “I think we pay on the way out. You ready to go, grandma?”

  “Hey, I’m not having a problem with my age. I know I don’t fit in here.” Audrey slid out of the booth and reached back for her purse. “They sure do have great chicken wings, though.”

  I paid our bill and, on the way to the car, removed my cell phone from my purse. “I just want to check in with Thomas.” I pressed his speed-dial number. “Hi, is everything okay?” I asked when he answered the phone. Then I heard Ryan crying. “What’s wrong?”

  “He was sound asleep until the phone rang. Now he’s wide awake and unhappy.”

  “I’m sorry. Do you want me to stop by and get him settled again?”

  “No. I want you to let me be his father. Look, I’ve gotta go. Please don’t call again tonight.”

  “I won’t.” I snapped the phone shut. Audrey stared at me with one eyebrow raised. “I woke the baby,” I said. I didn’t add my concern that Thomas was sick and my worry that he would pass out and the baby would be on his own. “Thomas has been…irritable, and I worry.”

  “Maybe he’ll be less irritable now that he can have Ryan with him more often.”

  “Maybe. You want to go to that other club the waitress suggested?”

  “Can’t we just go home?” Audrey pleaded.

  I started the car and headed for home, hoping we could find a movie on TV that had nothing to do with husbands, babies, divorce, or sex. Did the Three Stooges ever make a movie?

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  On a beautiful Saturday afternoon in late May, I packed up the stroller and diaper bag and drove with Ryan to North Park. I pushed his stroller leisurely along the paved bike/hike trail beside the lake, enjoying the soft breeze. I heard a shout and looked as a soccer ball bounced into the path of an oncoming cyclist. The bike swerved, heading straight for the stroller. The cyclist’s eyes were wide with surprise as he cut his wheel, swept past us, and landed in the slimy water at the edge of the lake. The splash sent a spray over me and the baby.

  I knelt in front of Ryan, my heart pounding. But he looked up at me with a broad grin, lake water dotting his chubby cheeks, his arms and legs flailing with delight. I breathed in relief and wiped away the droplets with the edge of his blanket.

  Splashing sounds drew my attention back to biker in the lake. I whirled around. “Weren’t you going a little fast? You could have killed someone. Like my son.”

  His eyes flashed wide. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine, but you should be more careful.” The cyclist stood up, his soaked T-shirt and shorts clinging to his body, leaving little to imagination. I dragged my eyes away from a broad chest, muscled abs, and…other notable parts. Then my radar tuned in. Biking in the park in a pair of shorts and body-hugging tee. Damn, I needed a checklist of gay versus straight mannerisms and style of dress. Of course, that wouldn’t have helped me with Thomas. Civility took over. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine. Not sure about my bike, though.” He lifted the bike to reveal an oddly twisted front wheel. “Nope.” He slipped in an attempt to gain purchase on the muddy bank.

  I offered a hand, which he accepted. He grasped my elbow, our forearms pressing together as he dug in his heels. In two long strides, he stood dripping in front of me. “I’m sorry. That soccer ball came out of nowhere, and I just reacted.” He glanced to the stroller. “Are you sure he’s alright?”

  “He’s fine. He enjoyed the sprinkling he got from your splash.”

  I pulled one of the washcloths I used for clean-up from the diaper bag and wiped my arm then I offered the cloth to him. “Sorry about your bike.” Golden hair on his arms glistened in the sun.

  “Thanks.” He wiped his face and reddish blond hair as he stared at the twisted metal and rubber. “It could have been worse.” He knelt down and snagged the back wheel, dragging the muddy and mangled bike up the bank. “Are you going to be here for a few minutes? I’d like to run and bring my car to the lot over here so I can load up the bike. It’ll be much easier than trying to walk it around the lake with a broken wheel.”

  “Sure. Ryan and I can watch the ducks until you get back.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be quick.” He took off at a brisk jog, water squishing from his sneakers. The biker looked almost as good from the back with calf muscles that tightened as he ran. My breathing became shallow all of a sudden. I told myself the warmth rushing through me was the result of standing in the sun too long. But I knew better.

  I parked the stroller beside a bench and locked the wheels. Lifting Ryan into my lap, I set a floppy-brimmed hat on his head to shade his face, and I applied a fresh coat of baby sun block to his chubby arms and legs. He stuffed a fist into his mouth. We were sitting on the very same bench I’d occupied when I’d told Thomas about my pregnancy.
I shivered at the coincidence.

  At five-and-a-half months, Ryan was an armful. He was going to be tall and broad-shouldered like Thomas. And already he wanted down to explore. I settled him in my lap and pointed to focus him on the flock of ducks coming in for a landing on the lake. He made gurgling sounds as his eyes lit up.

  A shadow fell over us. The man sat on the opposite end of the bench. “If you don’t mind, I’ll sit here and dry out a bit before I get back into the car. Good thing I had an old beach towel in there to cover the seat, but the towel is now soaked.”

  I reached into the diaper bag that separated us and removed a bottle of water. “You want one?”

  “You have a spare?”

  “Yes.”

  He took the bottle, twisted off the cap, and chugged half the contents in one gulp. “Thanks. That should wash down the lake water and God knows what else I swallowed. I’m David O’Neill.”

  “Meg Flores.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Five-and-a-half months.” I turned the baby to face him. “Can you say ‘hi’, Ryan?”

  David said, “Sure. Hi, Ryan.” He wiggled his fingers in a wave.

  I laughed. This guy was cute and funny.

  His gaze settled on my left hand where my wedding ring had left its mark. He not so subtly asked, “Flores? Is that Latin?”

  “My husband was. Well, he still is, he’s just not my husband much longer. We’re getting a divorce.” What are you doing, Meg? Too much information.

  “Oh. I’m sorry?” He put it as a question.

  “Me, too. But it’s for the best. Long story.”

  “I hear you. We all have one of those.”

  I lifted a whimpering Ryan into my arms and stood. “We have to be going. Nap time.”

  David zipped up the diaper bag. “Let me help you with this.” He set the bag in the wire basket under the stroller then bent to smile at Ryan. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you, little man.” He straightened and squinted in the sunlight. “I don’t usually do this, but… Would you have coffee with me some time?”

  “Uh… I…uh…”