Love, Michael: A second chance romance

by Gina A. Jones

  "Oh, Jill. Look at her," Tammy awed, and we were both crying.

  "I know. Oh, my God. I'm shaking. I can't stop."

  "That's normal," Tammy said. Remember? They said that would happen due to the hormones.

  Mom and Dad came in soon after, and whatever occurred moments before was now washed clean with this perfect baby. There was no way I could ever look at her and see her as a mistake. Mistakes didn't look this perfect. Mistakes didn't feel this wonderful. And it was as my mother had said. Giving birth to her would be the easiest thing about her. Because I realized I had created something that could destroy me. Because I loved her so much.

  I had survived her birth, and all I could think about was how I could ever survive if I lost her. Or to see her in pain or heartbroken. I would never let her know what it felt like all those months I carried her, as I knew her father never wanted us…this. She would be enough.

  I was exhausted and had no idea how much time had passed. Mom kissed me on the forehead and told me how beautiful Monica was. Dad even said the same and called me pumpkin before they both left.

  Tammy was standing next to the bed holding Monica when the door opened. Michael. She looked at me and then the baby. Michael looked…sunken. His face was unshaven, his eyes were dulled, and he looked as if he lost weight. He was holding flowers, balloons, and a pink bear.

  Tammy handed me the baby and said, "Call me when you're ready to be released. You can stay with me if you want."

  "Okay. Thanks, Tammy." She kissed Monica's little head and touched my hand. Her eyes raised in an expression that Michael and I should talk. She turned and gave Michael a low hello and left the room.

  "What are you doing here, Michael?"

  "Scott said you had the baby. Wow, can I see her?" His eyes went to the bundle in my arms and then back to me. There was a sad reserve in them. Almost like the night I told him she was a girl.

  "When did you see Scott?"

  "April…"

  "Shut up, Michael. I don't want to hear about you and April." I looked away and began fussing with Monica's blanket.

  "No, Jill. I wasn't with April. I ran into her at the grocery store. She congratulated me. Jen and Scott told her your parents brought you in. Why didn't you call me?"

  "Are you serious? You've had a week to call me. Why didn't you?"

  "I wanted to. I did. You know how it is with your parents. I've been here for almost three hours. In the parking lot—waiting for your parents to leave. I swear, Jill. After April told me, I bought you and the baby these," he says, setting the balloons and flowers on a table. "Here, I hope she likes it," he says, setting the pink bear next to Monica. "Can I hold her?"

  Why's he doing this? I was ready to end this. I don't know if I can remain strong enough now. I will need my strength to raise this baby. "Michael…"

  "Please?"

  Against my better judgment, I hand her up to him. He takes her in his arms like she is made of glass. "Oh, God. She's so tiny." He moves with small bounces and looks at her. "How was it? Is everything okay? Is she healthy?"

  "Yes, Michael; she's healthy. Everything went okay…"

  "I wanted to be here. I promise…I did."

  "I don't believe you. What about that girl you left with on the jet ski?"

  "Nothing happened, Jill. I promise. It was just a party boat. Once we got there…"

  "What? What happened, Michael?"

  "Nothing. It was just a bunch of people parting on a boat. I swear. Nothing happened with her."

  "How'd you get back then?"

  "Ah…I woke up, not remembering much. And…someone brought me back to the house."

  "Give me my daughter back. I don't believe you, nor do I want to hear it."

  "Please, Jill. Hear me out. I felt like shit for what I did. I was going to make it up to you. I promise."

  "You had a week to call me. You didn't. So, I still don't believe you." My hands were still stretched out for my daughter. He looked at her and then began to cry. I was confused and wasn't sure how to process it. Be mad? Be sad? Be Strong? I couldn't let him get my hopes up again. I couldn't fall in love with only the fantasy again.

  "Jill," he said, and his voice cracked as he began to cry. "I'm going to get right this time. Believe me."

  "Michael," I said and looked away. My throat ached from the large lump forming. "I can't keep going on like this. It's not fair to me and now her."

  "I know. It's going to be so different. I will make you happy—I promise."

  "But, Michael…do you love me?" I was mad now for asking. Because I knew he didn't. And now, I was going to hear the truth.

  "I know I don't show it. But…I do, Jill." I waited for more. I expected, ‘Yes, I love you, Jill.' But it only came as a, ‘I do.' Would that be enough? He did love me, but couldn't say the words? He was here. That alone was unexpected.

  "What do you want, Michael?"

  "Don't go back to your parents or move in with Tammy. Come home, Jill. I want you and the baby home with me."

  My heart was breaking. He wanted us home, but I was still afraid. I was crying, and the baby blues had already set in. I didn't need this on top of it. "Michael…I…"

  "I've been thinking. The apartment is too small. Let's buy a house. A house to start our family. A house with a backyard and trees." All through his words, my tears never stopped. It was everything I've ever wanted to hear from him. But would it last? Was he really willing to try this time? "Please, Jill. You won't regret it—I promise."

  He bent down and kissed my lips, still with Monica in his arms. "She's beautiful. Thank you for giving me such a beautiful daughter."

  I cried harder. His beautiful words ached deep inside me. It was if my lungs were coming up for air and I was breathing life again. The nightmare was over, and a new life was there waiting for me. I just had to take it and believe him. I wasn't just about me anymore, and I was torn between giving my daughter a family with a mother and father. Or, raising her on my own and never live in fear or what if.

  And that's the thing about fear and what if. No matter what side of the coin you choose, they exist on both sides.

  Now

  A ring? Now? What's he thinking? He was only to walk his daughter down the aisle and then leave. From my point of view, anyway. I haven't seen this man in over twenty years, and he shows up and…purposes?

  "Michael…I…"

  "I said don't answer now. Let's deal with Tammy. I know you want to be there for her. I'll be here waiting, Jill. I'm not going anywhere." He's still on one knee, braced in the sand. He holds my hand with the ring. I look at it. Michael, Monica, and Jordan at the top of the cliff. Seagulls squawk and squeak in the background. The splashing of waves closes in, and the sun is about to set. He stands and wraps his arms around me. "Let's watch the sunset…together," he says and kisses me gently on the lips.

  Turning me around, I'm cradled in his arms, and his chin rests in the crook of my neck. "I never want to miss another sunset with you, Jill."

  So many emotions are running through me. The past, the present, Tammy, Monica and Jordan. Michael. I can't process so much in such little time. But he said not to answer him. And Tammy is high on the list. Even if I wanted to enjoy this moment, I can't with my best friend with such little time left.

  "I promise to always be here for you. All you have to do is accept it," he says, and I close my eyes. I don't want to see the sunset, because it's the end of another day…and one day closer to Tammy's end. How will I ever enjoy another sunset again?

  I break from Michael's embrace. "Michael, I can't do this."

  "I know it's hard…with Tammy and all…"

  "No. It's not just that. I can't do this with you. I can't put myself back through that again. I'm not the same person. There was a time whenever I saw you, I would get all jelly-like inside."

  "And now?"

  "Now, nothing." His eyes rim with redness and well with tears. "I had to learn to look at the ugliness you caused in our life. And
now…that's all I see."

  "You can't see any beauty in us?"

  "Yes, I did, Michael. You didn't." I turn and head back down the beach. The sand makes it hard for a fast get away and he’s on my heel.

  "Jill, please don't leave. Just have dinner with me. Monica and Jordan went to a lot of trouble…"

  "And that's another thing. What is it with you getting all involved with my friends and family?"

  "Monica's my family too," he defends.

  "Oh, don't start that. Just because you gave life to someone doesn't qualify you as family. That's a whole other level. You gave that privilege up."

  He hesitates, sadly gazing into my eyes. "Yes…I know, and it was the worst mistake of my life. If only I could go back, I would change everything. Watch Monica grow up. Have more children…”

  "Stop," I say and continue to walk away. I can't listen to the what if's or should of’s. Staying away from Michael was the best thing I could have ever done for us. Although I wanted more children, to give Monica a sibling, Michael damaged my concept of that. If a father couldn't love and want his own daughter…own family, how could another man love us? The fear of making that choice and having another baby and Monica being thrown to the side as the outcome, I couldn't take that chance. I couldn't let another man destroy me like Michael had.

  I look up and see Monica watching us from the top of the cliff. Though I know she can't hear us, the situation at hand is visible. Is she part of this too? And now I'm guilty of protecting her too much. Maybe now is the time to lay it all out. To let her know the sacrifices I went through to give her a normal life. But that would undo and my hard work—never allowing her to be affected. But even I know that no one is left untouched after divorce.

  "Why do you involve her in this? It's not fair, Michael. Not to her or me. I kept all your shit quiet from her—you're welcome."

  "I know. Thank you. When I met her…" He stops and looks out over the lake.

  "When you met her…what?"

  "Have dinner with me at least. There are some things I would like to tell you." Looking up, I see Jordan come and lead Monica back to the house, allowing us some privacy. But whatever is going on, I feel her involvement. And that alone hurts. "Please."

  "Okay," I say. "I don't know what's going on with you two, but I don't want to hurt Monica's feelings—if she's made this wonderful dinner." He holds out his hand but I push past and walk back to the canopy. "And it's not fair, you using her to make me feel guilty," I say when he pulls the chair out.

  He bends down and kisses me on the cheek from behind. "No, it isn't. But thanks for staying."

  Dusk has set, illuminating the lights hung around the canopy as we eat the lobster, corn, and drink champagne. After, Michael adds more wood to the fire and lays out a blanket over the sand and asks me to join him. "Come here," he says patting the spot beside him. "Let's finish this champagne and we’ll talk about anything you want."

  I grab my drink and sit on my knees, so I'm not pressed up against him. Holding out my glass, he tops it off. Through the light of the fire, I watch the bubbles swim through the crystal. "Tell me what's going on, Michael. With you and Monica and…asking me to marry you. You started to say something earlier. What was it?" I sip my champagne and study his face. He looks out over the darkness of the lake. "When did she come to see you? Because I was under the impression you two only connected on Facebook. There seems to be more going on."

  He looks back and presses his lips. "She did come to see me in Seattle." I huff and take another swallow of champagne. "Don't blame her. It wasn't her reaching out to me. I reached out to her." Sadly, that feels like a lesser betrayal, and I shouldn't feel that way about my daughter. She is what I created—sweet, loving, forgiving. "I was going through a bad time, re-evaluating my life. I had already been watching her grow up on Facebook."

  "Did she know? Were you two online friends?"

  "No, she didn't know. I didn't know how she even felt about me. Or if she had taken another man as her father. I was never able to find you on Facebook."

  "And there's a good reason why," I say.

  "So I couldn't see you?"

  "Yup," I say, but it's a lie. I was afraid that, if I joined Facebook, all the consuming over Michael and what he was doing would be like a reappearing cancer. Nowadays, it's so easy to check up on someone and spy legally. If only we would have had Facebook back then. I could have been spared the degrees I went through. Seattle. But, I knew Monica posted pictures of me on her Facebook. And all this time, I hoped maybe he was watching. He was.

  "It was Father's Day, and all her friends were posting stuff about their fathers. It hit me hard. Because I knew she didn't have anything to post about me. Anything good, anyway. Things to tell the world how much she loved her father. I had to turn it off. Feared of what I might see. It ate me up, and I logged back in…and there it was."

  "What was it? What'd she say?"

  "The picture you took of us in Florida. The one with Monica on my shoulders, holding out her arms and pretending to fly. And, captioned above, she wrote: To my long-lost-father. Whatever you are and what you're doing, I hope you're happy. Happy Father's Day."

  "She kept that picture beside her bed growing up. I told her about that day. That it was a happy day for all of us."

  "Did she ever ask about us? What happened?"

  I look away and sip the champagne. The waves are becoming louder, and the dusk has been replaced with bright stars over the dark lake. "Not too much. I think it just became the norm for her. You were gone so much when she was little. I think that's how she thought it was like…for married people." I laugh. "When she started school, she didn't understand why some dads live with the moms. It was something never considered in her eyes. And at times, she'd ask why we weren't together. I'd just tell her…it wasn't meant to be."

  He looks out over the dark water. "After that post, I messaged her. I thanked her for her post and said, no, I wasn't happy. I asked if I paid her way, would she come to see me."

  "When?"

  "Two years ago."

  She would have been in college. "She never mentioned…"

  "I told her not to. I didn't want to cause you any more pain. I had done enough to you. So, she knows, Jill. You did an excellent job raising her and keeping her from hating me. But, I made sure she knew the truth about me."

  "How long did she stay?"

  "The summer."

  "The summer! She told me she was taking extra summer classes and stayed with friends from college. Now I find out you two were hanging out. I can see the lying apple doesn't fall far from the lying tree."

  "Jill, she wanted to tell you. I told her not to. Please don't be mad with her."

  I get up and walk toward the water. I stop when I feel water rush to my feet. I'm not sure how to feel. Betrayed? Confused? Michael comes up from behind me. I'm shivering, my arms wrap around my body, and he holds me close. "Cancer…had just taken a friend and it made me see how much I regretted my own life and what I had done. And how unhappy I was in my life. I didn't want to die like that."

  I think of Tammy and understand his concern. How having such little time left we see things in a whole new light. Tammy has chosen to see peace and goodwill…and the truth. The good in people. The good in Michael. I don't know what to think or how to feel. Denial? Through some miracle, Tammy will be spared her life? Has Michael changed? Or is he only a wolf in sheep's clothing?

  "What did you and Monica do that summer?"

  "She…helped me to heal. Gave me purpose and a reason to go on. She talked about her wedding and Jordan. It made me so happy and sad at the same time. Because I saw what I never gave you as a young bride. The way her eyes lit up when she talked of Jordan and their life together. It was love, and I saw the same thing in a young girl I destroyed years ago. You." He lays his chin on my head. "I saw something bigger than anything I had been chasing. To be a sparkle in someone's eye and the smile on their heart. I saw you. I saw everything I e
ver wanted. And…when cancer took my friend's life, I was unsure which pain was worse—the shock of what happened, or the ache for what never will. Death hurts most when the story was never finished. Death is the end for all of us. But if my death leaves no memories in someone's heart, it was the end of nothing. I saw my life as a beautiful lie and death as a painful truth."

  He holds me tightly, and we listen to the waves crash in and crawl back out. The fire crackles beside us, and for once, I don't want to think. "Just stay with me tonight on the beach. No promises. No commitments. Just you and I and a memory we'll have after one of us are gone."

  "You want us to camp on the beach?"

  "Yes. There's a tent inside the cabana. It might be a little hard putting in up in the dark." He makes a small laugh. "It will make it more memorable."

  I turn around and look up and see the sparkle in his eyes from the glow of the campfire. "You're serious. You want to put a tent up, in the dark, on the beach?"

  He pulls me in, wrapping his arms tightly around me. "There are lots of things I want to do with you. But right now, putting up this tent is first on the agenda." The fire reflects in his eyes, and I see…sad desperation.

  "Alright, Michael. I'll camp with you on the beach. Besides, it's something I've always wanted to do. And… I do not promise anything." I say, and when my hand touches his shoulder, his ring sparkles, reminding me I'm still wearing it. I remove it and hand it over. "Here."

  "No, it's yours forever. Even if you never marry me, it's what I should have given you a long time ago." He slips the ring back on my finger and places a small kiss on top. "I'm just happy I got to give it to you…" He starts to say something else and then stops. "Shall we put up the tent?"

  "What else were you going to say?"

  "Nothing. It wasn't important." He walks back to the cabana and brings back a bag containing the tent. "Let's do this," he says and smiles while unzipping the bag.