"Talk about James, then," Amber suggests the most obvious answer.
"No!" Shame fills me as I spit out the words. I just met Jay. I don't want to scare him away by telling him about my son. I'm not familiar with his views on dating women with children, and what will he think of me if I share I dated Daniel while he was with Lauren? I definitely don't want him to think I'm a MILF. I mean, I'm not Stiffler's Mom. "I might freak him out if he knows I have a kid."
"He's a doctor, Chelsea."
"What does that have to do with anything?" I shove the paper into the page protectors I send them in. "Doctors aren't saints. He might be McDreamy or McSteamy, but telling him too soon is a risk." A risk I'm not yet willing to take.
"Point taken, but not saying anything will be worse. You're screwed for lying to him if he finds out on his own."
Amber's right. Still, telling him the truth scares the crap out of me. I don't expect to marry this guy, but I love the prospect of a relationship. The whole time I spent with Daniel we never even went on a date. I wasn't his girlfriend; more like his mistress. Ugh, I hate that word. But, the truth can't be denied. A real relationship didn't exist between us. We had an affair. I pursued despite his "commitment" to Lauren.
"The first date is too soon. I should wait."
"When then? The second? Fifth?"
I cover my eyes with my fingers and take a deep breath. "I don't know, Amber. I want to get past this first date. If there's a second one or a third one, then I'll think about it." I grab the phone and take it back off the speaker. "I need to figure out what to wear." I take Amber with me to my closet.
"What are you doing?"
"Walking."
"Walking? You made an exercise date?"
When I open my closet door, I'm underwhelmed by my choices. "He wants to take a walk and after get something to eat, which is quite the dilemma. A workout to a lunch date. What do I wear that passes for both?"
"Aren't you worried about breaking a sweat and stinking during your date?"
Oh God. I didn't even think about that. Another thing to worry about. Maybe this is why I don't date. Way too much anxiety, if you ask me. Why couldn't he ask me on a normal date like most people? Dinner and a movie. Simple. Maybe he's some sort of a workout fanatic and plans many dates like this in the future. If that's the case, we shouldn't even go on this first date. Yes, I want to keep up with this routine, lose weight, get into shape, but I don't want to make so much of a priority out of it my life flips upside down. James is my priority.
"Maybe I should cancel." I pass up shirt after shirt after shirt as I doubt myself.
"No. Don't cancel. Don't do a super pumped walk ... more like a stroll, and chat with him. Ask questions. Find out about him."
"I suppose I can do that." How hard can this be? A date is simply talking and getting to know one another.
"If you wear some leggings and a nice long sleeve, plain colored shirt, that should work. Do you own one that hugs your hips?"
"Hugs my hips?" I'm way out of my league here.
"Yeah. A shirt that goes about midway down your backside and is tight on your hips."
Flipping through the shirts in my closet, I really wish my confidence level pushed me to buy cuter clothes. I recall when only skirts, dresses, and expensive blouses consumed my closet. Now Faded Glory jeans from Walmart and knock off tee shirts keep the racks and shelves company. "I can find something, I'm sure." Although I'm not sure at all.
"If things go well, you can bring him to Ryan's party."
This date hasn't even happened yet and Amber is planning dates for us months from now. "Maybe." James calls for me from the baby monitor. "I'll think about it. James is getting up from his nap so I should get going."
We say goodbye and before I go to get James, I run my fingers through my hair and sigh. Despite what Amber says, I really don't think telling Jay about James is a good idea. Soon. I'll get through this date first.
•••
Since James finally broke his fever, and thinking about my date is only driving me crazy, I decide to take him to the playground. He absolutely loves going there. The slide is his favorite. Something about whipping down the chute and nearly slipping off the bottom makes him laugh uncontrollably. And James' laugh is contagious. He giggles and giggles and sometimes a tiny little snort even escapes. Today the playground isn't too busy - I blame the weather - but soon the swings, monkey bars, and slides will be swamped. James shares the space with only one other kid today, a small girl probably about a year older whose mom keeps referring to her as Whitney.
He starts on the swings. I scoop him up and place him in the black bucket seat. He places his little hands on the edge, a grin filling his face. "Push, mommy, push!" He begs me. I give the swing a tiny shove and squeals of excitement spill out of his little body. The girl Whitney watches James, pointing and begging her mom to go on the swings, too. After a few more pushes, the two join us.
We push our children in silence while the kids fill every awkward moment with their cries of enjoyment. I never got used to being around other moms. Amber is about as far as my friends reach. She's childless and the struggle is unknown territory for her. A diamond flashes in my eyes. Can this woman even appreciate or understand me being a single mom? My bets are her husband is involved, giving his daughter kisses and buying her dresses, and even goes to pretend tea parties she throws. Moments like this I hate Daniel most. Two years and not even a hello or a text to check on his son. We agreed he would send me money as he could, but you mean to tell me in over two years he can't provide a dime? Not even ten dollars a month? That's nothing! Here I sit working my ass off to support James, and his wife stays at home taking care of their twin babies, and Daniel supports them fine. I don't even say a thing to this Whitney's mom, but suddenly I hate her. I grab James out of the swing and tell him it's time for the slides. I want to get away from this lady.
"Wanna swing, mommy!" he argues as I carry him over to the slides.
"Sweetheart, you love the slide." I put him on top and push him down. He seems to forget seconds ago he argued to go on, and I lose myself in his giggles again. I help him down a few more times before I need to sit. I need to remember to get these workouts in. I'm not only doing it for me, but for James. I need to get into good physical shape if I want to do these things with him. I want to take him for walks, bike rides, and be able to run after him in the park.
I take a seat on the bench and admire him as he entertains himself. He slides down a few more times and then starts to climb up and down the steps, walking over the small bridge, and even stopping to pretend he's a pirate. I cross my legs and observe him, my little boy progressing just fine without a father in his life. I suppose he has my dad. A grandfather is as much of an influence as a dad, right? My dad can teach him about being a man and help him with all the things I can't. Daniel not being around really, really sucks, but it is what it is and I can't change it.
I pull out my phone and start to scroll through Facebook. Amber posted a picture from her night out, which is typical. She's at a bar, beer in hand, and her tongue is sticking out. I used to be Amber once. Before I met Daniel. I had fun and partied a lot. Now that I'm a mom, it all seems so shallow. Although, I'd be lying if I said I don't miss going out on my own sometimes.
My phone dings three times and a notification pops up on top of the screen. All I see is "Daniel." My heart stops momentarily and my fingers rush to check the message, stopping short before I click. I haven't heard from him since James' birth. I sent him a text informing him he had a son. His response? "No, I don't." I swear that was some of what spiraled me into my post-partum depression. Those weren't the words I needed to read having just delivered a baby. I never replied to him, and he never attempted to contact me. Until now.
What on earth does he want? James runs in circles, kicking up the stones on the ground, laughing and enjoying himself with no cares in the world whatsoever. Reading a text from Daniel could affect me in ways I can't e
ven imagine. I'm well over him. Never in my life do I want a romantic relationship with him again. Ever. But I can't help it. My curiosity wins.
I wet my lips, and bite down on the lower one, as my finger hovers over the messages icon, the red circle with the number one on it. One message. From Daniel. I glance back up at James to check on him before hitting the button.
I want to talk to you. Can we meet up soon and chat?
My mouth drops open, unsure of what he needs to discuss with me. Does he plan on giving me back child support? The money will help James and me so much. Does he want to meet James? Do I want them to know each other? All this time I wanted him to spend time with his father, but maybe it's best he doesn't.
Another text pops up underneath that one. Take your time. Let me know.
What the hell does he think? That I'll drop everything and go running into his arms again? Is he trying to plan a booty call again after all these years? Or does he want to rub in my face he has these twin babies with a woman he wouldn't leave for me? Maybe he'll bring her along with her perfect little body, flat stomach that slimmed down right away, and enormous breasts from breastfeeding. Of course, then he'll be forced to admit to her who I am, and as far as I'm aware, she's oblivious to my existence in this world, and even more so to James'. We don't even exist.
chapter seven
We return home from the playground and James is more than ready for bed. I fix him a little snack and as soon as he's done, we go through our normal bedtime routine. My favorite part of this is when we rock back and forth in his rocking chair after I read him a story. He, of course, likes any book with Mickey Mouse, so his collection weighs heavily on the rodent. Tonight, though, it's difficult to lie back and enjoy our snuggle. The rocking motion often causes me to doze off, but today my eyes remain wide open as I contemplate why Daniel wants to meet. I can't silence my brain enough to appreciate the moment.
Unable to focus and keep still any longer, I pick James up and place him in his crib. Soon he'll be in a big boy bed! He closes his eyes almost immediately, which is rare for him. His time at the playground sure wears him out. For a few moments I stand next to the crib and watch him breathe in and out as he falls into slumberland. He's such a precious boy and I can't imagine not wanting to be a part of his life. Daniel doesn't cross my mind often, but, when he does, he sits on my shoulders like a huge boulder for quite a while. My romantic feelings took a decent amount of time to dissipate and once they finally did, the romantic feelings turned into hatred and anger. Eventually, I reached peace about the whole situation. I accept the fact he'll never be a part of his son's life. I understand he's married with two young babies to take care of. I only meant sex to him and nothing else. And I consider if we ever maintained a real relationship if I would have even been happy. Deep in my heart I know if we did, he would have cheated on me. I may have gotten pregnant by a man who wants nothing to do with his child, but, no matter what, I love this baby.
The more I stare at him, the wetter my eyes get. If I don't leave the room soon, I'll probably wake him from a mixture of tears of joy and weeping from confusion. I press two fingers to my lips and then touch his forehead in a gentle kiss. "Sleep well, baby."
I double check to make sure his monitor is on before I grab the receiver and head up to my parent's place. I need to discuss the text from Daniel. Something this major can't be kept a secret, and the best thing is to tell them immediately. I join my parents in their living room.
"James sure had fun today," my dad says as I sit down.
"He sure did." I place the monitor receiver on the end table. "He fell asleep before I even left the room."
"Hopefully that bodes well for you in the morning and you can get ready for work before he wakes."
My mom's right that it can go either way. The first night he slept all the way through I ran into his room in the morning to make sure he was still breathing. Ever since that day, he's slept through the night. However, through the night for him can still mean he'll be up by five-thirty.
"Is everything okay, Chelsea?"
My mom is really good at reading me. I don't think I'm giving off any sort of indication something is wrong, so leave it to her to figure me out. I pull on the sleeves on my shirt and shrug.
"Honey, you can talk to us." My dad always encourages me to share my problems with them. I love they are so available and want to be so involved, but downsides exist, too. Some things you just can't discuss with your parents no matter how close you are.
"Daniel sent me a text today."
"He what?" My dad raises his voice in anger at Daniel, not me. "I hope you told that jackass where he can go."
"Take a breath, honey," my mom urges him. "What did he want?"
"That's the thing. I have absolutely no idea. I didn't respond yet." My thumb starts tapping the arm of the chair almost automatically.
"Don't reply. You don't owe him anything," my dad says, still angry.
"But he owes me plenty, Dad. He owes James a father."
"That deadbeat is far from a father and don't you ever call him one. He doesn't deserve such a title." He's pointing his finger at me, but I'm sure he intends it for Daniel.
"You're absolutely right. He doesn't. But James deserves to know who he is." I imagine the two meeting for the first time and how it will go over. "This doesn't even matter right now. I don't even know what he wants. He only asked me to get together and chat and that I can take my time to respond. I'm still trying to decide if I want to."
"Meet him or respond?" My mom is gripping her shoulder, hanging by a thread waiting for my answer.
"Both."
My dad presses his cheeks together, and wipes his hand over his face. "Chelsea, I thought Daniel didn't want to be involved. I wish he could have just signed off his rights, but since our lawyer said a judge wouldn't go for that, Daniel agreed to stay away." He turns to my mom. "Rose, I told you we should have gotten it in writing."
"Chelsea risked too much doing that. Maybe he would have changed his mind and decided to fight for custody."
"I doubt that. He didn't want anything to do with the baby or Chelsea."
"Dad, I'm right here." I understand Daniel wished for me and James to disappear as though we never existed, but it's still painful to listen to it. Especially from my parents. I didn't want him out of our lives, initially. As the months went by, I got used to it.
He scoots forward on the couch and hikes his pants up a bit, displaying his Donald Duck socks. My dad has always been a bit of a goof. "I'm sorry if this hurts you, Chels."
"This isn't news to me. You act like this is the first time I'm hearing this, Dad. I'm finally over what happened. His text threw me for a loop, that's all." James lets out a small cough through the monitor. I want to get back to him. He's right downstairs, but I don't want to leave him very long, even if he is asleep and the door is locked. I came upstairs to let my parents know about the text and nothing more.
"I don't like this, dear," my mom chimes in. "I think we're asking for trouble if you meet with him."
Does she think this involves her or is her decision? "Whether or not I text him back, or even agree to hear him out, is entirely up to me." I'm a grown woman. I can decide this for myself. "I'm not asking for your permission."
"It kind of sounds like you are." My dad stares at me, holding his poker face, and I can't call a bluff. Am I fooling myself?
•••
I stare at the ceiling, still not sure of what to do. As soon as my dad made me question my intention of telling them about Daniel, I raced downstairs and checked on James. I watched him sleep for a few minutes before going to bed myself. Now, I lie in bed, curiosity chewing at me, and I can't stop considering all the scenarios of meeting him. How will I feel? Will it be as though nothing changed? Will I still be attracted to him? Will he be attracted to me? Should I bring James with me? Does he even want to meet his son? What will he say to him? Will James realize Daniel is his father? I turn over and grab my ph
one off the nightstand.
The brightness from the back light almost blinds me, but after awhile my eyes adjust. The text stares back at me, taunting me, begging me to respond. How much will my life be affected if I reply and meet with him? I may have something of his he needs back, so he only wants me to return whatever it is. My fingers hover over the keyboard. I begin to type I'll meet him, then erase the words. No. My parents will hate me. I write the opposite. "I don't think it's a good idea." The SEND button sits there, but I can't press it. What the hell is wrong with me? I delete the line, leaving only the "I" on the screen.
The lonely I. That one, single, letter in the tiny box drives me nuts, completely representing who I am. Me. Me, myself and I. Of course, James and my parents are in my life, but for the past two years it's only been me, and, quite honestly, a long time before that. Daniel and I never really were together. During our entire relationship, his heart belonged to Lauren. She stood by him through thick and thin and he by her. He went home to her every night, and he proposed and eventually married her. I sat back while I let it happen, getting pregnant in the meantime. I can't believe someone who I devoted so much of my life to didn't love me unconditionally. Still, I loved him that way. I stayed with him through his ups and downs with Lauren, and waited for every chance he could see me. When he proposed to Lauren, my devotion remained in my heart in case he changed his mind and came back to me.
I'm certain he isn't in love with me anymore. I don't doubt that. And I don't love him. I've got a date with a hot doctor and, best of all, single doctor. No good can come of seeing Daniel again. Still, if I don't respond, his reasons behind his text will eat away at me. I don't need to tell my parents. We'll meet up, talk about whatever he wants, and move on with our lives. I finish the rest of the sentence, telling him I'm available in a few days. As if going back in time, my eyes linger on the phone, waiting for another response. I don't expect a full-fledged conversation over text messaging with Daniel, but, I guess, in a way, I hope. After five minutes of no reply, I shut off my phone, place it back on the nightstand, and lie with my eyes open until I slip into darkness.
Jay Walking (Pastime Pursuits #2) Page 4