That One Day (That One #1.5)

by Josie Wright

  This single word nearly brings me to my fucking knees. My throat closes up, and I have a hard time swallowing down my emotions. My son called me Dada. Hell, I didn’t know I could feel anything like this. I try to blink the tears away that have come out of nowhere. Since I got here, I’ve been at the verge of tears more than a teenage girl at a boyband concert. But looking at Archer, I don’t even care.

  We take a seat in a booth in the corner farthest from the door. I’m still holding Archer in my arms, watching him play with the zipper of my jacket. When the waitress takes our orders, Frankie asks her to heat up a bottle for Archer.

  “Do you want to feed him?”

  Sure I want to feed him, but until today I’ve never really held a baby, let alone fed one. I don’t want to do anything wrong, don’t want to hurt or harm Archer.

  Frankie must notice my hesitation. “It isn’t as hard as you think. Trust me, he’ll show you how to do it.”

  She hands me the bottle the waitress brought back and as soon as Archer notices it, he goes for it, purposefully guiding it to his mouth. He starts drinking as if he’s been starved for days. No doubt about it, he definitely has his mother’s appetite.

  Curiosity gets the best of me when I ask, “So you don’t breastfeed him?”

  I’m surprised to see Frankie blush. It’s barely there, but I notice the color staining her normally pale skin.

  “I do as long as he wants it and doesn’t get teeth. But I don’t really always feel like whipping my boob out in public,” she says laughing and I join her, giving up the struggle to not let my eyes wander down to her rack. She’s always had a great one, but now—just the sight of them makes my mouth water. Yes, I’m officially a pervert. They are my son’s food source, and I can’t keep myself from imagining all the things I would do if I got my hands on them. Suddenly, I’m really relieved she doesn’t whip them out in public. Guys would go fucking nuts and then I’d have to kill every single one of them.

  Once the bottle is empty, Archer falls asleep, snuggled up in my arms. When Frankie suggests getting the stroller so I can lay him down, I decline. I’d rather eat one-handed or not at all, if it means I can hold my son, who instinctively seems to trust me enough to fall asleep in my arms.

  While I look at Archer, I wonder again why Frankie’s family doesn’t know. I’ve been asking myself this since I arrived, even before I knew I’m his father. It doesn’t make sense, especially considering they treat her like shit for not telling them. I don’t get why she wouldn’t have told them from the start.

  “How come your parents don’t know I’m the father?” I eye her curiously. She seems surprised by my question, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finally answers.

  “I didn’t want to tell them before you knew. You had a right to know first and to be able to decide what role you want to play in our…I mean in Archer’s life. And I knew they would be disappointed that you left—even if you didn’t know about Archer. I just…” She stops talking mid-sentence, but she doesn’t need to say anything more as the truth dawns on me. She was trying to fucking protect me. She’s been doing this for me. I can’t stop myself from saying this out loud, the asshole in me curious to what her reaction will be.

  “So you’ve been catching a lot of flak from them because you wanted to protect me and allow me to make my own decision without any pressure?” I stare at her, watching her bite her lip and look to the side in an attempt to not meet my eyes before she exhales slowly.

  “I don’t know to be honest. I guess.”

  Not sure what that says about me, but I want to do a fucking victory dance. No matter how mad she is at me or how hurt, she still cares. It’s obvious. And it’s all I need for now. It means I have a chance to get her back.

  “Besides Ben, I was trying to deal with my own emotions; I didn’t need anyone giving commentary or advice on it. I had to get my head straight. I don’t know…it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “Thanks, Frankie,” I say, meaning it, “but we should tell them. From what I can tell, they are complete dickheads toward you. Maybe this will help calm things down.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  Huh? Her statement catches me off guard.

  “You don’t want them to know?”

  She avoids looking at me, the ketchup bottle on the table suddenly the most interesting thing she’s ever seen.

  “It’s not that.” She looks up, her green eyes searching mine. “I’m just worried you will disappear again and that would only cause more drama. I would not only be the daughter who sleeps around with her brother’s best friend, but who also makes him run away from his own child.”

  And there goes the satisfaction I just bathed in a few moments ago, and I crash back to the ground. Face first. I get why she doesn’t trust me. But that doesn’t lessen the burn of her words.

  “I won’t go away,” I try to reassure her.

  “Promise?” Her eyes go wide, probably realizing what she just said. Her face turns red and she glances to the side before looking back at me. “Forget that I said anything. That was stupid.”

  She looks so vulnerable, so fragile. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s insecure. But I know Frankie too well for that. She’s self-confidence personified. Or at least she used to be.

  I want to take away her doubts about me, about us. I want to make her believe I’m here to stay. “I know I hurt you. I understand you don’t trust me. I hope to change that again. And I wish I could promise you to never leave, but there might come a day when it’ll be better for Archer and you to not have me in your life and that is when I will leave, but never because I want to.” It’s as honest of an answer as I can give her, praying she won’t ask for more.

  Despite the look she gives me, she doesn’t press me for clarification. Thankfully.

  ***

  On the way back to her parents’ house we discuss the next steps, like me going to visit her in Northampton to spend more time with Archer and get to know him. It doesn’t escape my attention that at no point does she talk about us spending time together. Without a doubt, it’ll be a struggle to get her to trust me. I’m contemplating the ways of achieving this when her voice catches my attention.

  “Maybe if you come out in a week or two…”

  I don’t like the idea of parting with her or Archer now. It will only give her time to overthink everything; possibly change her mind about me going there altogether.

  “Why not now? That way you wouldn’t have to travel alone.” I stare at her, but she focuses her gaze on the road.

  “I need a week or two to digest all of this, Ben. I can’t think when I’m constantly confronted with all these feelings, with you. And I need to figure out where you can stay while you’re there.”

  This is exactly what I don’t want to happen; she’ll think, and she’ll figure things out and her mistrust and fear of me fucking things up again will change her mind. Fuck. As I’m trying to think of what to do, she speaks up again.

  “Ben, before we decide to tell my parents, or before you come to Northampton, I need to make one thing clear. You are Archer’s father and you’ll always have a place in his life and therefore automatically in mine. But you are nothing more than Archer’s father to me. And that will not change, ever. I don’t know if it even matters to you, but I need to make this clear, there will never be an us.”

  I clench my teeth to stop myself from swearing or yelling. What the fuck? Anger at myself and at her is coursing through my body. The way she says it, the detached tone—it’s as if someone’s pouring acid down my throat. Then a thought hits me, making it worse. Fuck. She’s seeing someone. Some guy is around her, around Archer, and that’s why she’s so adamant about us never being together.

  “Did you understand what I said?”

  Her question coupled with my epiphany makes my voice hard and my words clipped.

  “Yeah, I heard and understood what you said,”
I say, pausing before I continue. “Are you seeing someone?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Pure undiluted jealousy takes over. “Well, I’m Archer’s father, so I think I have a right to know if there is some random guy around my son.”

  I know it’s a cheap shot, to question her abilities as a mother, but I need a fucking answer even if I have to provoke it out of her. Even if she’ll have my head on a silver platter for it.

  “Whom I fuck or do not fuck, you don’t get to decide. You’ve been in Archer’s life all of twelve hours and you are trying to tell me how to raise him? Indicating I would put him in any kind of harm’s way? You’re an asshole. Everything I do is based on Archer’s well-being, or do you think I come for the happy visits with my parents because I have some kind of masochistic tendencies? Do you think I allow you back into my life because I relish in the pain of seeing you again? I don’t just bring people into Archer’s life without being sure they are worth it. Every single thing I do is for Archer.”

  And the asshole award goes to me. When I decided to provoke her mere seconds ago, I didn’t realize I would actually hurt her even more. That was the last thing I wanted. But as much as it sucks—the fact that seeing me is hurting her means she cares.

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have made any assumptions.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.” I can tell she’s holding on by a very thin thread.

  I should leave it alone, but I still want to know. I need to know in order to figure out what my next step will be.

  “So, are you seeing someone?”

  “No, I’m not seeing anyone.” She shakes her head, sighing.

  Thank fuck. I won’t end up in jail for killing some asshole who dared to touch her. And it’s all I needed to hear to know I still have a shot. I can win her back. A confidence I haven’t felt in a while gives me the conviction to decide on the next steps. Steps she’ll hate me for.

  “Good,” I tell her. Feeling quite smug, with both her answer and my idea.

  “Why is that good, Ben? What is it to you?” The fact that she asks tells me she wants exactly what I want, even if she isn’t admitting it to herself just yet. I give her the reply I know she wants to hear. But more than that, it’s the truth.

  “I know I hurt you, Frankie. I fucked up and I can’t change that. I know you don’t trust me and that’s okay. Because I’ll fight for you, and I will win back your trust. I will win you back.”

  “You never had me to begin with.”

  A few minutes ago, this would have bothered me. I realize now she’s scared and hurt and is just trying to protect herself. But she’s been mine for years. That hasn’t changed.

  Once inside the house with her parents, she heads up the stairs, clearly trying to escape my presence. Her mom has already taken Archer and is cooing like a demented dove. Her dad is sitting in the armchair, reading a magazine. I sit down on the couch and decide it’s as good a time as any to put my plan into action.

  She’ll be furious. Hell, I’ll have to guard my dick for the upcoming days so she doesn’t cut it off. But the fact is though I’ve known Archer is my son now for less than twenty-four hours, the thought of not being around him feels like someone’s ripping out my heart. I can’t even imagine what my father went through when he lost me. I’m not taking that risk. And I’m definitely not going to risk losing any chance I might have with Frankie. Once she’s out of my reach, she’ll be scared and pissed off. I can’t let that happen. I need to dismantle the wall around her heart. What I do next breaks the agreement we just made and yet nothing could stop me.

  “Listen, I just had an idea. I haven’t talked to Frankie about this yet—thought I’d ask you for advice and get your blessing first.” Yes, I’m kissing ass, but I’ve known them long enough to know how to manipulate them. They both look at me, giving me their full attention. Her mother even stops cooing.

  “I need to start looking at colleges and potential jobs again. I’ve wasted enough time in the past months. I’ve heard only good things about Frankie’s college, and thought I would check it out. It just occurred to me I could drive up with her. That way she doesn’t have to drive alone. It’s such a long trip for her—it’s dangerous. If I go with her, we can alternate driving and she can pay more attention to Archer, as well.”

  I don’t even need to wait for an answer because her mother beams at me, clapping her hands with Archer tucked in between her arms, and her father nods approvingly.

  Her mom exclaims loud enough for the whole house to hear, “That is a great idea, Ben. Frankie, did you hear that?”

  It doesn’t take long before Frankie appears with Dave by her side. Her features are marred by apprehension, her jaw tight, while Dave grins in amusement.

  “Frankie, Ben just offered to drive back with you to Northampton to look at colleges and job opportunities up there. That way you don’t have to drive by yourself and can pay more attention to Archer, so my poor baby boy doesn’t spend all the time alone in the backseat.”

  I chance a look at Frankie, who is glaring at me. She looks like she’s ready to kill. But we both know she can’t say anything without telling her parents about me, about us. She’s not ready for that yet. So, she’s stuck with me. Round one: Ben.

  “Sorry, what?” I can tell by Frankie’s tone she’s trying to hold on to a semblance of control and not kill me right here in her parents living room, with our son present. I guess my next statement won’t help.

  “Yeah, I wanted to decide on a college anyway, and this way I save money on a flight, we can split the gas money, and you don’t have to drive yourself. Long drives like that can be tiring and dangerous.” I smile at her.

  “That isn’t necessary. I really don’t mind the drive. Why don’t you wait a week or two, and let me see if I can find you a place to stay?” She smiles sweetly, but it doesn’t do anything to hide her anger. Her tone clearly tells me to back the fuck off. But I never listened to warnings.

  “Oh, don’t be silly. The boy offers to help you, so you should be thankful. And don’t you have an extra room in your house where he could stay?” Her father is a clueless man. Not only does he not realize she’s probably picking out his headstone right now, but he’s also unaware he made things even easier for me. I don’t let the chance pass me by.

  “Oh, that would be awesome, Frankie. I would really appreciate it if I could crash at your house for a few days.”

  I expect her to pounce on me, rip my balls off, and shove them down my throat. So I’m shocked when she speaks next.

  “Sure, why not? I’ll just check with my roommates,” she says, turning toward the stairs. She looks back at me over her shoulder, a smile on her face.

  “Since it is two drivers now, we can drive into the night. How about we pack and leave now? I have some stuff to prepare for school anyway.”

  This was way too easy and my gut tells me this little standoff isn’t over. But I decide to play along, making the best of it.

  When I walk past her to put my stuff into the car a little later, I wink at her. “I’ll get that trust back, Frankie. I’ll get you back.”

  Once we’re done loading the car, we walk back inside to say our goodbyes. Frankie has Archer in her arms when she addresses her parents.

  “Mom, Dad? Before we leave I need to tell you something. Ben is Archer’s father. We had sex eighteen months ago on your couch right there after he drank your whiskey. It was really good too. The sex, not the whiskey.”

  Motherfucker. I’m a dead man. Jesus fucking Christ. Her dad will skin me. Their heads turn in my direction and her dad is actually baring his teeth at me. I knew my little game wouldn’t go unpunished, but I never figured she’d pull a number like that. I see her walking toward the door.

  “You have five minutes. After that I’m leaving.”

  Oh hell, she didn’t. She has barely closed the door behind her when her father roars.

  “You fucked my daughter and then left? Son of a b
itch. We basically raised you, shared our home with you, and you aren’t man enough to be there for your son.” His face is red, spittle flying from his mouth with every word he utters. I’ve never heard him cuss like this.

  Her mother keeps on shaking her head, joining her husband in ripping me a new one. “How could you, Benjamin? How could you do this to my grandson?”

  “You better make this right. I can’t believe you of all people would do something like this to us.”

  “Sir, I—” I try to say something, apologize—anything to calm him down, but her mother doesn’t let me get a word in.

  “I don’t want to hear a thing from you right now, young man. We trusted you, treated you like a son,” she shouts, still shaking her head and for a brief second I wonder if she’s going to give herself a concussion. That thought makes me snort which in the current situation equals a death sentence.

  Her father takes a step toward me.

  “You find this funny? Is it? Is it funny to you? You knock up my daughter in our house, disappear, and don’t have the guts to take responsibility for your actions—” he thunders, the vein on his forehead throbbing. His shouting is interrupted by Dave laughing in the corner.

  “Dude, you have ten seconds. I’d hurry.”

  I look at Frankie’s parents, who are about to skin me alive. I hate not talking this out, explaining the situation, letting them know I didn’t know about Archer. That I’m not that much of an asshole. But I don’t have the time.

  I mumble, “I’m sorry.” Then I turn on my heels and rush out of the house and into the car. Any longer in there and her father would have nailed me to the wall by my balls.

  “That was a shitty move, Frankie. They nearly ate me alive.”

  She pulls out of the driveway before I even have my seatbelt on.

  “It’s called karma, Ben. She is a vengeful little bitch. It was her way to say thank you for this current arrangement. And as for your second statement, welcome to my life.”

  I decide to keep my mouth shut, hoping my irritation with her will wear off soon. If I weren’t so pissed off, I’d be impressed. She sure paid me back—like the Frankie I used to know. Even if she threw me to the wolves. Round two goes to Frankie.