by L.H. Cosway
Glancing at the clock on the dash, I saw it was five to two. We’d be meeting King in five minutes. In five minutes’ time, King was going to meet his son.
I took Oliver’s hand and led him down the street. All the while, my skin was breaking out into a cold sweat. When we arrived at the circus, I went and bought two tickets, but as soon as I let go of Oliver’s hand, he ran off ahead of me to the side of the tent, where there was a large cage containing two male lions.
“Liiiiiooooons!” he yelled giddily, waving his hands in the air. I hurried to catch up with him, swung my arm around his body, and lifted him into the air.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” I warned him. “You stick with me. You don’t go running off like that again, do you hear?”
He pouted. “Yes, Mummy.”
I let him down and then heard someone clear their throat from behind me. Jay and Jack stood a couple of feet away, both staring at Oliver with wide eyes. Oliver saw the two men and became uncharacteristically shy, grabbing my hand and hiding behind my leg.
“Is this…?” Jay began, and I nodded.
“Uh-huh.”
“Does King know?” Jack asked.
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, shit.”
Jay whacked him on the shoulder. “Hey! Language around the kid, bro.”
Jack slid his hands in his pockets and shot me a sheepish look. “Sorry.”
I blinked at him, hardly hearing what they were saying because I was still drowning in nerves. Oliver was staring up at them both like they were another species. Other than my dad, he wasn’t around men very often, and especially not men who looked like this.
“Alexis,” I heard a voice call from nearby, and had to close my eyes. What was I doing? This was way too soon. I silently wished I could teleport us right out of there, but I couldn’t. I had no other choice but to face the music. Footsteps sounded as King approached, and I forced myself to open my eyes. He wore a T-shirt, jeans, and boots. It was startling to see him in short sleeves when usually he wore several layers even in the blistering heat.
“Hi,” I said, hardly recognising my own voice. I glanced at Jay in panic, and he nodded his head in encouragement, as if to say, You can do this.
I could do this. I could.
King was still focused on me, a frown taking shape as he observed my nervous posture. Several beats of silence passed while my heart thumped loudly in my ears. It felt like the moment lasted an eternity, and then boom. King suddenly glanced down and saw Oliver. His glacial blue eyes returned to mine, a question in them.
“Your friend?” he asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
I swallowed thickly and summoned my courage before blurting out, “This is my son.”
“Hello,” said Oliver, waving, entirely oblivious to the momentous occasion. His voice brought King’s attention back to him, and I saw him take in his every feature, from his blue eyes to his blond hair, to the face that was almost a carbon copy of his own. They say that you resemble one parent more at different times in your life. Well, right then Oliver resembled his dad far more than his mother.
King’s jaw moved and he swallowed thickly, his eyes not leaving Oliver as he asked, “How old is he?”
“Five,” I answered, voice wavering even though I’d only uttered one syllable.
King ran both hands through his hair and looked away, a strain marking his form. I knew exactly what was happening; his mind was piecing together the information, doing the maths. When he looked back to me, his eyes were wet, and I felt the weight of everything he was feeling like a blow to the chest. Our gazes locked, the atmosphere heavy with unanswered questions. Finally, Oliver interrupted by tugging on my hand.
“Mummy, I want to go inside now.”
“Hey, buddy,” Jay said, stepping forward. “You wanna see something cool?”
Oliver nodded, and Jay pulled a deck of cards from his pocket, doing an impressive shuffle. Oliver let go of my hand and stepped forward, staring at the cards in fascination.
“Do it again!” he exclaimed with delight.
“I will, but first, do you want to come see the elephants before the show starts?”
Oliver nodded profusely, and I wordlessly let Jay take him, knowing King and I needed to talk. A moment later they were gone and we both stood there, people passing us by, wading through the ocean of questions that lay between us.
“I don’t understand,” he said, confounded.
I looked to the ground, shoving my hands in my pockets and muttering, “It’s not that complicated.”
King stepped forward hastily, his expression frantic and his voice airy. “He’s mine, isn’t he? Fucking hell, you only have to look at him to know he’s mine.” He turned away, staring at the people walking by, his mind clearly racing. Vaudeville fair music began to play through the speakers at the entrance to the circus, like a stark exclamation point at the end of his statement.
“He’s yours,” I breathed.
King rubbed at his jaw, where an attractive bit of stubble had started to grow. And then, just like that, he turned and walked away. Jesus. My shoes felt like they were stuck in a tub of cement as I stood there, not knowing what to do. When I finally regained my senses, I hurried after him. He’d rounded the tent and was making his way toward the camper vans when I got close enough to grab his elbow.
“Wait, don’t be angry with me, please,” I begged. He stopped walking and turned around, his features contorted in anguish. His eyes flickered between mine, his voice coming out strained and raspy.
“Christ, Alexis, I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself.”
“Why? You had no clue I was pregnant. Hell, I didn’t even figure it out until months after you’d disappeared.”
He huffed out a breath, hands frantically running through his hair again. “Yes, but I’ve been hiding for years, burying my head in the sand, and all the while you were out there, alone with a child that was mine. It just…it makes me feel worthless.”
I moved closer and lifted his hands from his hair, like I had to before when he was tugging it to the point where he was almost tearing it out. Sliding my fingers through his, I held both of his hands in mine and looked him in the eye. “You are not worthless, King. You’re the strongest person I know right now. I mean, look at you, look at how far you’ve come since I found you. Don’t you dare think for one second that I blame you for not being there. I had help. I had Karla and my parents, and your mum, too. The only thing I regret are the years you’ve missed, but I’m not going to dwell on them, and I won’t let you, either. He’s still young, King, and there are more years ahead of us than there are behind.”
Tears streamed down his face as he stared at me. “He’s so…perfect.” He paused, brought his hands to my face to cup my cheeks. “He’s like this perfect little human that we made together, and I don’t even know him.”
I reached up and placed my hands over his. “You’ll get to know him. And I wouldn’t go throwing around the word ‘perfect’ just yet,” I joked. “When he’s having a tantrum or coming into the house with dirt all over himself, he’s far from perfect, believe me.”
King let out a quiet, sad laugh and gripped me tighter. The quiet was punctuated by the pounding of my pulse, which I was sure he could feel. A long silence fell between us as we simply stood there, communicating without words. Finally, I spoke.
“Come on, let’s go back so that you can meet him properly.”
Indecision clouding his expression, he drew in a deep breath and wiped the tears from his eyes. There was something so heartachingly beautiful about the moment, and I wondered why I’d ever been scared to tell him. If anything, the discovery had brought more of the colour back into his eyes, and I was determined to replace every last bit.
We walked hand in hand to where the elephants were being kept, and found Jay with Oliver up on his shoulders so that he could reach out and pet one of their trunks.<
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“Hey!” I called, and he twisted around to see me.
“Mummy, I’m petting the elephant. Look!” he called back, and reached out again to touch it.
“I can see that, baby. Come here, there’s someone I want you to meet.” I could feel King’s intense stare on me when I spoke to our son, and then I saw his attention go to Oliver as Jay let him down off his shoulders. He came running at me and I caught him, lifting him up into my arms. He was getting taller by the week, his long legs dangling down from my hold.
I turned him to face King and said, “This is my friend. His name is Oliver.”
Oliver made a face. “But my name is Oliver.”
“That’s right. You’re both named Oliver.”
He let out a cute laugh. “That’s crazy.”
I laughed, too, and saw King smile. I could tell that he was still struggling with his emotions, but was making an effort to hold it together. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, little man,” he said, and reached out to take his hand and shake it. Oliver was quiet as he studied King, trying to suss him out. It was kind of adorable. I gave him a little nudge.
“What do you say back?”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”
King’s smile grew larger, and I felt like my heart was about to burst. I’d visualised this moment for years, imagined it happening in so many different ways, but now that it was actually here, there was no comparison. It was like a little piece of me that was broken was finally being healed. And if the look on King’s face was anything to go by, he was feeling exactly the same way.
“Oh, I know what we can do,” Oliver announced suddenly. “I can be Oliver 1 and you can be Oliver 2.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” King chuckled, the tenderness in his voice as he interacted with our son causing a deep, feminine part of me to ache.
I really wanted to tell him he could call him Daddy, but it was too soon. Oliver was an open, accepting sort of kid, but still, I knew I had to ease him into the idea that King was his father. Letting him down from my arms, we headed inside the tent for the start of the show. I bought Oliver some candy floss, so he was quiet as a mouse as he concentrated on stuffing his face. King seemed at a bit of a loss for how to act, but I just squeezed his hand to let him know he was doing fine. When we found some seats and King sat down, Oliver made his way over and unceremoniously began to climb onto his lap.
“I’ll sit here,” he said without preamble. I laughed. King stared at him, a mixture of amused and perplexed. This was typical Oliver behaviour, though; he befriended quickly. I shrugged and took the seat beside King as our son sat on his lap, happily eating away at his candy floss like he hadn’t a care in the world.
I looked at King then and whispered, “You okay?”
He swallowed and blinked a few times before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
I smiled and shot a glance in Oliver’s direction as he watched a few stage hands set up the props for the start of the show. “I think he’s decided you’re both going to be friends. Not sure you get a say in the matter. Sorry.”
King laughed gently. “That’s fine by me.”
“Thank you for being so cool about this,” I went on, voice soft.
“Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve fully comprehended what’s happening yet.”
His bemused tone made me chuckle, because I completely got where he was coming from. If I had been in King’s shoes right then, I’d probably be freaking the hell out.
Oliver twisted in his lap and practically shoved the candy floss in King’s face. “Want some?”
“Uh, sure,” he said, and picked off a piece.
“Oh, yeah, don’t bother to offer me any,” I mock-complained, and then the candy floss was being shoved in my face. I picked off a larger piece.
“Don’t eat it all,” Oliver whined before looking to King. “She always eats it all.”
King chuckled, his eyes alight and fascinated by every little thing that came out of Oliver’s mouth. A second later, the lights were dimmed and the start of the show was being announced. It turned out that Marina was the ringmaster, and she walked out wearing a long red coat and a top hat. Her capuchin monkey sat on her shoulder, and, just as I’d imagined when I first saw it, Oliver almost lost his shit.
“She has a monkey! Look, Mummy, she has a monkey!” He bounced on King’s lap, who bent down to tell him,
“That’s my sister Marina. Her monkey’s name is Pierre.”
Oliver looked up at him, a massive grin on his face and bits of pink candy floss stuck to his cheeks. “Can I meet him?”
King smiled at him, and again it made my heart go whoosh. “I’m sure I can arrange it.”
“You’re the best,” Oliver declared, and without warning reached up and threw his little arms around King’s neck for a hug. He seemed startled at first, but then his eyes came to mine and I saw the emotion in them. He squeezed him back, and somehow I knew in that moment that everything was going to be all right. I had to look away for a second and clear my throat to keep from getting all weepy.
The show began with Marina announcing the elephants.
“That’s the one I got to pet,” Oliver shouted, pointing to one of the large creatures.
He was mesmerised by the entire show, in particular Jay’s part, which even had my jaw hanging open in slack-jawed amazement. After Jay came Jack, but Oliver didn’t like this bit so much. In fact, all the fire frightened him, and he turned in King’s lap, shoving his face into his chest because he didn’t want to watch. King startled, hands in the air like he didn’t know what to do. I gave him an encouraging look and gestured to his hands. Finally he got the hint and wrapped his arms around Oliver as though protecting him from what scared him.
Unlike my son, I wasn’t scared by Jack’s act at all. On the contrary, I was a smidge titillated, especially since the man wore jeans and no shirt. I caught King shooting me an arch look, so I shrugged and mouthed a what? at him. He only grinned and shook his head, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was jealous. The thought made me oddly giddy.
During the intermission, Oliver was a chatty cat, as per usual. And he was more than fascinated by King.
“Why have you got long hair?”
King gave me a devious smile before replying, “Your mum likes it like this.”
Oliver turned to me, all inquisitive. “Why do you like his hair long, Mummy?”
I shot King an annoyed scowl, trying not to smile back, but my effort was useless. “Because it’s pretty and blond just like yours.”
By the look on his face, he didn’t like the sound of that. “I’m a boy. I’m not pretty. I’m handsome.”
His response made me laugh, and I was staring at King when I answered, “Sometimes boys can be pretty and handsome.”
“Granny Elaine tells me I’m handsome all the time,” Oliver preened.
A pained look crossed King’s face at the mention of his mother, and I knew exactly what I had left to do. I had to get him to go see her. The show came to an end, and Oliver wouldn’t hear a word about going home until he’d gotten to meet the monkey. King led us backstage, and Marina was more than happy to introduce Oliver to her furry companion. I even saw a bit of a shine in her eyes as she took in my boy. She kept looking between him and King, noting the similarities. I thought she might well up at one point, but she managed to hold it together.
“Do you want to come home with us for dinner?” I asked King quietly as Oliver giggled excitedly while Pierre stuck his monkey hands in my son’s shirt and trouser pockets, searching for loot.
King breathed deeply, standing close enough for me to feel his breath hit my skin. “Yes, I’d like that, Alexis.”
There was something intense in the way he said my name. It caused the tiny hairs on my arms to stand on end and my breathing to turn shallow. I started remembering our kiss from the night before, his tongue hot and wet in my mouth and his cock hard and ready in his pants. I blinked
and looked away, trying to clear the images. I had no business thinking those sorts of thoughts right then.
A few minutes later, I finally managed to pull Oliver away from Pierre. Suddenly, all he could talk about was getting a pet monkey. We made our way to where I’d parked the car, and Oliver asked King to sit in the back with him so that they could talk. By the time we arrived at the house, he’d told him all about his friends at Montessori and how he was going to be starting at the big school in September.
Every once in a while my gaze would lock with King’s through the overhead mirror, and every time it happened, my skin tingled. He was here, in our lives, talking to our son like it was the most normal thing in the world. Feeling dizzy with happiness, I got out of the car and went around to let Oliver out. King exited from the other side and stood in our small garden, surveying the house in front of him.
“This is a nice place,” he said as I gestured for him to follow me inside.
“Thanks. It felt like it took me forever to save for the down payment. I’d put aside a bunch of money from my modelling work, but then when the agency took off, I could finally afford it.” I stopped talking when I realised I was rambling
“You like living here?” he asked.
“I love it,” I answered simply. “It’s home.”
Slipping my shoes off in the hallway, I padded barefoot into the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out the ingredients for dinner. I planned on making roast pork with potatoes and apple sauce. King took a stool by the counter and watched, while Oliver situated himself in the living room to play. He had this set of toy cars that he was currently obsessed with. All I’d hear was various renditions of vroom vroooom out of him for hours on end.
“It’s a good look for you,” King said randomly as I peeled potatoes.
“What is?”
“This place. I like how happy you seem here.”
“Well, like I said, I kind of have you to thank for it. You always used to big me up, tell me I could do whatever I wanted once I set my mind to it. And owning a home of my own has always been a big dream for me.”