by Imani King
"Yeah," I agreed. "You're technically right, you had no official claim - neither of us did. But unofficial? It's always been you for me, Natasha Greeley. Always. I think even before high school, maybe back to that day I found you all indignant outside the grocery store covered in spaghetti sauce. It's always been you. I didn't choose it - in fact, it's been a huge pain in the ass - but I can't get away from it."
"Neither can I," Tasha said quietly, looking up into my eyes.
We stayed like that for a few seconds, just looking at each other, watching, reveling in it. And then, doing her usual thing of behaving the exact opposite of the way I expect, she started to cry. Really cry. Her eyes welled up and spilled over and she slid down the side of the car until she was on the ground, face in her hands, sobbing hard.
"Tasha?" I said, kneeling down in front of her. "Tasha! What's going on? What is this about?"
I had some idea of what it might be about but that - it was something I couldn't believe, something I couldn't even imagine how I would react to. But Tasha's distress was obvious and I had to say something - anything.
"You know," I whispered, leaning in close and wrapped my arms around her as my heart thumped so hard in my chest I felt sure she could hear it. "My manager called me a few days ago and said he heard a rumor."
Tasha looked up at me. "A rumor?" She asked, her voice halting and shaky with tears.
"Yeah, a rumor. He said a tabloid-"
"You have a son."
She was talking loud enough, it wasn't that I didn't hear her. For some reason, it didn't sink in, didn't click in my brain. I plowed ahead. "Yeah, he said there was a story that, um, that a girl-"
"Kaden," Tasha took my face in her hands. "You have a son. I know I should have told you - I meant to, I was going to, and I know you're going to hate me for not telling you, but it's true and I don't know how else to say it now it's gotten so late."
"I have a... what?" I asked. "A son?"
English is the only language I speak, but somehow that word - 'son' - sounded nonsensical.
"Yes," Tasha hung her head again. "A son. His name is Henry. He looks just like you, Kaden."
It felt like someone had suddenly sucked all the oxygen out of the air. A roaring sound in my ears was the only thing I could hear. Was I dreaming? I sat down on the ground, shaking my head.
"Tasha," I started. "What are you saying - a son? A baby? You - have a baby?"
"Yes. I'm so sorry you're finding out like this, Kaden. You don't deserve it. I was so scared, so worried you would be angry or upset or that you would be with someone else, it's my fault. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
I didn't have a single clue what to say. What came out of my mouth was: "Where is he?" Because it still seemed unreal, impossible.
She cracked a tiny, fleeting little smile at that comment. "He's at home with my family. I didn't want to just - show up with a baby, you know? Without telling you first?"
So it was real. Tasha wasn't the type to play practical jokes and even if she had been it would have been the cruelest practical joke of all time. The only possible explanation was that she was telling me the truth, that she had a baby. That she had my baby. I still couldn't get my mind around it. 'My' baby.
"I want to see him." The words came out unprompted.
"Yes, of course you can see him."
"Right now. I want to see him right now."
"But he's not here, he's back at-"
"Then we'll go there," I said.
Tasha was watching me closely, unsure of where this new, strange tone of voice had come from. I myself didn't even know.
"Are you angry? Are you-"
"I don't know," I told her. "You know, Tasha, I have literally no idea how I feel right now. Mostly I feel like I'm going to wake up in my bed back in Dallas and this is all going to have been a dream."
"I understand," she replied. "But Kaden, I'm not asking you because of myself - I get that you have every right to be angry. I'm asking because I think it might not be a good idea to meet your son if you're upset."
That made sense. I looked up and told her as much. Then I put my head in my hands and tried, really tried, to figure out what I was feeling. It wasn't anger. Part of me knew I should be angry, but somehow I wasn't. It was more like terror. Terror that this was a trick, a dream, not real. I looked up at Tasha.
"Right now, mostly what I feel is scared," I said. "Not scared that this is real, scared that it's not real. This - this isn't a joke, is it? This isn't one of those celebrity prank shows or-"
"No, it's not a joke, Kaden."
"Then I - I want this to be real, Tasha. I don't even understand what I'm feeling right now but even when my manager told me the rumor it was like I couldn't even let myself imagine it might be true, because what if it wasn't? You had my baby? Why didn't you tell me, Tasha? I would never have been upset with you, never!"
"I know," she whispered. "I mean, now I know. I didn't know, then. I saw those photos of you with that girl and I just got so paranoid that you would be annoyed or you'd think I was trying to trick you into giving me money or-"
"You didn't need a baby to do that," I replied. "If there had ever been a cost, an amount of money I could have paid to get you to be with me, I would have paid it. And you know that. It actually would have been a lot easier if you had been a gold-digger, you know?"
She laughed at that. "Yeah, maybe it would have."
"So what I'm saying is, I want to meet him. I'm not angry. I can't make any promises about how I'll feel tomorrow or in a week but if there's one thing I know to be absolutely true, Tasha, it's that I have an inability to think bad things about you. Even now, do you want to know what I feel right now?"
She nodded, her expression wary.
"I feel like I'm about to explode with happiness. I feel love. For you. For this baby I haven't even met yet. And all I want to do is see him, now. That's all."
Chapter 32: Natasha
Henry was asleep when his father met him for the first time. I watched as Kaden leaned over the crib in the fading afternoon light and reached down to touch his son's face, and then as he closed his eyes tightly and failed to stop the tears he was fighting. He could not take his eyes off Henry.
"Oh my God," he whispered as the baby stirred slightly. "Tasha, he's beautiful. He's - I can't believe how beautiful he is."
I stood back and let the scene unfold - a father falling in love with his son in real time. Kaden was entranced, totally occupied. When Henry's eyes fluttered open and he offered Kaden a sleepy, dimpled smile I told him he could pick him up if he wanted to.
"Is is OK?" he asked. "I mean, is he going to be scared?"
"He doesn't look scared," I replied, smiling. "You can just hand him to me if he cries."
But Henry didn't cry. He looked up at Kaden's face as he was lifted out of the crib and they stood there, staring at each other, studying one another's faces while my heart nearly burst with love.
"He looks just like you," Kaden said, tucking a blonde curl behind Henry's soft little seashell ear.
I laughed. "That's funny, everyone says he looks just like you."
We stayed there in my bedroom for a long time, not saying much because words didn't seem to be of much use. At one point I left to heat up a bottle when Henry started to fuss and gave it to Kaden to feed him.
"How do I do it?" Kaden asked, holding the bottle awkwardly like he didn't know what it was.
"Just brush the nipple against his cheek. He's hungry, he'll take it."
"Wow!" Kaden exclaimed as Henry wrapped his tiny hands around the bottle and began to smack his lips and slurp his way through his dinner. "Damn, he's strong. He's holding this thing really tightly."
"Quarterback genes," I commented.
There were things - many, many things - to discuss, but we gave ourselves that evening to just be together, the three of us and my family, before facing them. After hanging out with Henry for more than an hour Alisha knocked on the door and
opened it a crack.
"Hey - you two hungry? We got chicken fajitas ready if you are."
I looked at Kaden and he looked at me, grinning. "Actually, I am goddamned starving." And then, as soon as the words were out of his mouth his eyes widened. "Oh - uh - I guess I should watch my mouth around him, huh?"
"I think it's still a little too early for that,' Alisha said. "It's nice to see you again, Kaden. You two look good together."
She was talking about Kaden and Henry. Alisha, Ray, and my mom had been really good about not haranguing me in regard to the situation with Kaden but I could see from the gigantic smile on Alisha's face that she was happy to see that Henry had finally met his dad.
We had to bring up an extra chair for Kaden but all eight of us managed to fit around the kitchen table. It should have been fraught or awkward but it wasn't. It actually felt just like it used to feel back in high school when Kaden would come over for dinner and settle into my family like he'd always been one of us. He told CeeCee she'd grown into a beautiful young woman, which made her bite her lip and look at the floor in teenage awkwardness, even though I could tell she was thrilled.
"What do you think of him then, Kaden?" My mother asked as we ate. "He's a wonderful child, you know. Not too fussy, always smiling."
CeeCee, who had been holding Henry on her lap - he generally spent most dinner times being passed around from person to person because sitting in his bouncy chair bored him and he'd get upset if he felt like he wasn't part of the action - passed him to Kaden and I watched every single pair of eyes sitting around that dinner table focus on the two of them.
An answer wasn't even necessary - it was plain as day to see how Kaden felt about his son - but he gave us one anyway.
"I think he's the best thing I've ever seen." He told, balancing Henry in a standing position on his lap. "Yeah, he is. You'd think it would take longer, wouldn't you? To think that? But I'm telling the truth right now, this little dude is the just...he's perfect. He's so perfect I can't believe it."
As Kaden finished speaking a little wobble appeared in his voice and Ray got up, walked over to him, and clapped him on the back. "Congratulations, man," he said, shaking Kaden's hand. "We needed a little more testosterone around here, ya know?"
Everyone laughed and I looked at my brother with affection - he was so good at stuff like that, taking charge of a moment that called for it.
After dinner, we had vanilla pudding for dessert, made from scratch by CeeCee. Henry managed, at one point, to get Kaden's spoon into his mouth and we all watched his face, suspicious at first and then breaking into a huge smile as he realized he liked vanilla pudding.
"Is that OK?" Kaden asked, worried. "I didn't - damn, he's fast, I didn't realize he grabbed my spoon!"
"No biggie," I replied. "He tried apricots a few days ago - but it looks like he prefers vanilla pudding."
Dinner took hours and we went through a couple of pots of coffee afterward. Henry was the focus, the way babies always are when in a large group of adults, but it all felt so good, so easy. I wanted to make Kaden stay, to tell him to look around, at how welcome he was, how loved, even after all that time. For once, I forced myself not to let worry or doubt overcome the happiness of the evening itself. We put Henry to bed together at nine, which was later than usual but he'd already been asleep in his father's arms for an hour by that point. Kaden stood over his crib and watched him sleep for twenty minutes while I stood in the doorway observing the scene.
"He's so snuffly," Kaden whispered as we made our way back downstairs. "He makes all these little noises when he's asleep, it's adorable."
There was no doubt about it, Kaden Barlow was in love with his son. Kaden Barlow was also in love with me, if what he'd said earlier that day outside the café was true, too. A feeling of happy turbulence is what I'll remember about that evening. Happiness because the love I'd spent years wanting, and doubting, had actually been there all along, hidden from me only due to my own fears and insecurities. Turbulence because the elephant in the room, the major topic, of what we were going to do - still hadn't been broached.
After one more trip upstairs to peer into the crib and marvel at his sleeping baby, it was time for me to drive Kaden back to his parent's house. While we were at the front door gathering our things, Alisha appeared and gave him a big hug.
"I know you two have a lot of talking to do," she said to both of us, "but Kaden, I just want you to know I'm so happy you met Henry today. It's not my business what the two of you work out but I wanted to say that I think you'd both be crazy to throw this away. The way you look at each other, the way I've watched Tasha pine over you - all the while pretending she wasn't pining over you - for the past few years - it's something. You're both so young, you don't know how rare this kind of thing is. Some people never find it. Don't let it go without a fight. See you soon, Kaden, I hope."
And then she left without another word, although her words hung in the air behind her.
"She's right," Kaden said when we were in the car, on our way. "You know that, right?"
"I do," I replied softly.
A few moments of silence passed - there was so much for both of us to take in, that day.
'So what are we going to do?" Kaden asked, looking at me, smiling one of those I'm-happy-but-I-have-no-idea-what-to-do-here smiles.
I looked at him. "I have no idea."
It didn't take long to get to his parent's place. I pulled into the driveway and turned the car off. We both started to speak at the same time but I insisted on going first.
"Listen," I said, barely able to look at his gorgeous face, lit with the orange light of the streetlights. "Kaden, we said a lot of things to each other today. I meant them. I think you meant them, too. But - and don't stop me because I need to say this - I understand that I've done an unforgivable thing."
"No, Tasha-"
I held up my hand. "No, let me finish. I did the wrong thing and I did it because I'm a coward. Sure, I told myself it was for other reasons, because I didn't want Henry growing up with an absent father, all of that. But you aren't my father. I know that. It's hard for me, sometimes, to think of any man as not being similar to my father, but you aren't. And you didn't deserve to find out about your son when he was already a few months old. We're both giddy right now, aren't we?"
"Yeah," Kaden chuckled. "I actually feel high."
"Exactly. And the day is going to come when that high wears off and maybe you're not so willing to write off my behavior. I understand that - it's how you should feel, it's how-"
"Tasha?"
"What?"
"You're doing it again."
"What am I doing?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"You're doom-and-glooming it. It's almost like it's your superpower. Tell yourself that nothing good will ever happen and then save yourself the disappointment when it doesn't."
I sighed, knowing with certainty that he was reading the situation right - reading me right.
"I'm not saying you're wrong. I'm not saying I've never been irritated or upset with you - I've actually spent quite a lot of time being upset with you."
"Have you?" I asked, not quite sure what he meant.
"I definitely have you silly girl! How many hours have I spent wracking my brain, trying to figure out the exact words I could say to you to make you understand how I feel? To make you mine? But, Tasha, if you think I expect you to be flawless or lacking in all human weakness, you're wrong. I know you. You think I don't, but I do. Remember that day outside Hawley's? You were so angry when I tried to help you - so indignant. And even as a child, I understood what that was about - you were angry at yourself for falling over, for looking like an idiot - not at me. It doesn't have to be like that, you know. You've built up this cocoon of safety with your family but you're still so guarded, so anticipatory of hurt and pain, outside it. And I would do anything to keep you from hurting, do you know that? Anything."
"What the hell Kaden," I replied, trying t
o laugh it off and not quite succeeding, "someone told you all the right things to say, huh?
Suddenly, he reached over the center console and grabbed me by the shoulders, turning me towards him. "Stop that. Stop doing that. Stop pretending like this is all some joke, some mirage that's destined to disappear the minute you allow yourself to believe in it. I'm saying these things because I mean them, Tasha. I mean them. I love you. I have always loved you - and only you."
He was inches from my face. I felt the atmosphere between us change just like that as we stayed where we were, hesitating, waiting.
"Can I see you tomorrow?" He asked, eventually.
He was right to. We both needed to think. No matter what my body was telling me.
"Y-yes," I replied, backing away slightly. "Yes, tomorrow. Of course. I'm working until four but I can see you afterward. You can come over for dinner again, if you like."
"Sure, OK. So I'll call you or text you tomorrow then?"
"Yes."
And then he was gone and I was left sitting alone in the car with the air smelling of Kaden's cologne and Kaden's words ringing in my ears, my shoulders tingling where he'd touched me.
Chapter 33: Kaden
It took me a long time to get to sleep that night. My parents were already in bed by the time I got home, which was a good thing because if they hadn't been they surely would have noticed that something was up with me. Also, I had a huge hard-on that would have been pretty awkward to hide. It made me smile - after everything, after all that time - to know that Tasha Greeley still affected me on every single level. I had a shower, but I didn't jerk off. I didn't want to. I wanted her. Not just in that way, in all ways. But how? How to be with her?
I lay down in my childhood bed and stared at the ceiling as different scenarios and varying plans flitted through my head. It was so complicated.
At least, it seemed complicated. As it always had. But now there was another face beside Tasha's in my mind's eye. Henry. My son. There was a sudden moment of clarity around three in the morning. A kind of bolt from the blue, a new perspective in which the things that were important, and the things that weren't seemed to sort themselves as I stood back, merely observing. I - we all - get so caught up in the day to day issues in our lives. Even some of the bigger things, when viewed in the right light, reveal themselves as trifling when set against the broader arc of our lives.