by CJ Azevedo
Now I’m sitting in the formal living area, just off the entry, staring at my sister, who arrived about three minutes ago, right after Declan left. She’s looking quite successful and much older than the eighteen year old who left me with her newborn in a cream-colored skirt and blouse with a tiny black belt and black patent high heels. Her hair, almost black, is swept up in an up-do and her makeup is pristine and light. She looks gorgeous, of course; my sister has always looked gorgeous, with her dark skin and hair and light green eyes.
My breakfast is forgotten in the kitchen, I’m barefoot and still in my running clothes, my short hair is pinned back, and I don’t have a drop of makeup on. If this were any other scenario, any other unexpected guest, I would excuse myself immediately to make myself a little more presentable, but she’s not happy to be here. In fact, she’s pissed. I just haven’t asked why yet. Instead, she’s sitting there examining my new home from being perched on one of my favorite wing back chairs. We have a ton of pictures of Harper on the fireplace mantel but that’s not what she’s looking at. She’s not looking at the daughter she gave up to see if she has her hair or eyes or what her smile looks like. No, she’s looking at the detail of the house, at the paintings on the wall, no doubt sizing everything up.
“Ya know, I didn’t believe it when I heard you moved my daughter into Declan James’ house. I thought, ‘Ava, would never do something like that.’ Guess I was wrong. People apparently do change.”
Of course she knows Declan. Of course she comes into town when she finds out that I’m happy and that I’m with a man that does well for his self. Although, considering the fact that she has a Town Car with a chauffeur waiting in my drive for her, she’s doing pretty well for herself too. I just don’t know if I want to know how she’s doing well for herself. Is she in Pretty Woman status or more like the lyrics to Kanye West’s “Gold Digger”? Does she work for her money or is she working for her money? I shouldn’t care. I just need to get her out of here quickly.
“Farrah, I’m pretty certain you didn’t drop in after nearly three years of being away to say hello and check in. Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” My throat is constricted with all of the words I want to hurl at her. Usually words flow freely when I’m worked up, like that time that I told Declan I had stalker tendencies with him and that someone should probably have me committed. Thankfully, I’m fully aware of each word coming out of my mouth at this point.
Farrah slightly shakes herself out of her appraisal of my home and clears her throat. “Acting wasn’t really for me. I tried it for like a month and I hated waiting.” She sighs heavily and then continues in the most annoyed tone, “I just wanted someone to put me in a movie and call it a day. But apparently, I’m too classically pretty for today’s movies, so I moved on,” she says as she sweeps away a piece of non-existent hair from her eye. “I have a great life now, Ava, you should know that. You’re the one that taught me that I should do what makes me happy, what I’m good at. I’m good at being a housewife. I always knew that’s what I would ultimately become, so I’m happy that it happened sooner rather than later.”
She’s married?
“You’re married?” Why am I upset she got married without me? Or even surprised? She left me to raise the kid that she insisted on having. Left me to once again pull in all of the anchors that my family has conveniently chose to leave me sinking with. I have barely been keeping my head above the rough waters that have been trying to drown me my entire life, yet I’m hurt that she got married without me? I truly do need to be committed.
“Not yet.” She cocks her head to the side and thrusts her large, flashy ring out in front of her so I can get a better view. Her smile actually looks real, not the fake one I know is more natural for her to share with the world. “Which brings me to why I’m here.” She places her hands on her skirt to smooth it down, taking a fortified breath. “My fiancé is a very wealthy man. I was waitressing when he met me, and we fell for each other hard and fast. He’s a smart man and has been burned before.” Her face goes from looking young and in love when speaking of how they met to looking old and defiant with the straightening of her posture and a twist of her face. “He ran a background check on me or whatever they do to dig up all of your skeletons, shortly after we started dating, and found out that I had given birth, but there was no adoption. In fact, he discovered, and informed me, that you sought legal guardianship of Harper. And won.” She lifts her eyebrows at me as if asking if that were, in fact, a true statement.
I am completely overwhelmed at what’s taking place. My mind is boggled by her arrival. My heart is in complete disarray; the poor thing can’t decide which emotion to go with. I try to remember all that I’ve learned in my psychology courses and pinpoint the reasons behind her animosity toward the legal aspect of her daughter—my daughter, but I am at a loss; all I can come up with are stupid mnemonic devices that aren’t doing me any good right now.
However, the psychologist in me prevails and I decide to listen. I nod my head to confirm her accusation, although I would really like to correct her and tell her it wasn’t a matter of winning when she wasn’t around to fight me on it.
“Anyway, I’m signing a pre-nup… I mean, obviously, but he’s concerned about you coming after his money to help support Harper.”
Is she kidding me right now? My palms sweat and my breathing is labored as I let the anger consume me. I am furious. Just as I open my mouth to spew all of the words running rampant in my head the front door swings open and in comes a sweaty Declan—thank God he has shirt on today. My eyes flicker from him over to Farrah, who sits a little straighter, once again fixing a hair that isn’t actually out of order and clears her throat.
Declan stops in the foyer when he sees me in the formal living room, a room we hardly ever occupy. Confusion is written all over his beautiful, sweaty face. “Sunshine? Whose car is that? Sorry, I forgot to close the gate when I left.” He’s walking toward me and I can tell he’s uncomfortable at the thought of allowing someone up to the house where I was alone, but still trying to be polite to whoever is sitting facing away from him. I stand and meet him just before he can step down to the living area. He leans down and kisses me softly before placing a hand on my back. “You okay?” he whispers, his face close to mine.
With wide eyes, I silently shake my head no as I clutch tightly to his hot, clammy bicep, because I’m not okay. “Yes. Kick off your shoes before stepping down on this white carpet. I have someone to introduce you to.”
“Oh, God, you actually don’t know,” I hear from Farrah, disbelief laced in her words.
Declan’s eyebrows furrow and he slowly toes off his shoes while grabbing my hand. I have no idea what Farrah is talking about, but when Dec and I take a couple steps in the room and Farrah stands and turns Dec freezes, pulling me back as if he’s protecting me from her.
“Hello, Declan.”
My blood freezes in my veins at her familiar tone with his name. I actually don’t know what? I look between them and Declan looks pissed and worried and confused. A lot confused actually.
“Amy,” Declan says quiet and politely but my head jerks around to him like he just learned how to spit fire out of his mouth.
Amy? What the hell?
Farrah lets out a breath and her shoulders drop tremendously. She picks up her shiny black clutch and once again straightens herself to her full height. “Look, I just want to get married and live the life I always dreamed about. Another day, another time, I would probably laugh at what’s taking place right now, but I don’t want you screwing anything up for me, Ava. You guys go on pretending and playing house with your little family and allow me to do the same. I just need the both of you to sign some legal documents my fiancé will be sending to you. My wedding is in just under six months; please sign them quickly and get them back to me.” Farrah doesn’t look at either one of us but instead lets her eyes stray all over the room, landing on nothing in particular.
“I’m mi
ssing something here,” Declan says testily. “First of all, why are you in our home? Second, what the hell would we need to sign in order for you to get married? And why the animosity towards my girlfriend? What could she possibly screw up for you?”
Declan is confusing the shit out of me right now. He’s shoved me behind him in a full protective stance so I can’t see Farrah’s reaction, but I have so many questions of my own.
“My name is Farrah, not Amy. I’m Ava’s sister and I’m Harper’s actual mother. I’m sure you can put the pieces together.”
I pull against Declan’s tight grip on my arms from behind him and step out to the side just as he releases me and Farrah takes a step to walk around us, presumably making her exit now that she’s flipped our lives upside down. Declan rubs his face with one hand and rests his other on his hip.
“Farrah. With black hair and green eyes. The birth mother to a little girl who is almost three,” he says almost to himself as he does what she suggested and puts the pieces together. I’m halfway down that road, putting together a puzzle that I have no desire to be working on, but my pieces seem to be a lot more jagged than his at the moment. “Dammit. You were what, Farrah? Sixteen?” he queries, again just above a whisper, and she stops abruptly, rolling her neck from side to side, evidently trying to ease some tension.
“Seventeen,” Farrah says with a renewed confidence as she turns back to us. “I was ridiculously young and naïve, Declan. I never meant to hurt you by lying. I just knew what I wanted and at the time I wanted you.”
I’m going to be sick. Farrah and Declan and…and Harper. Oh, God. I’m watching my life and future go up in flames in front of me and I can’t say a damn word. I ease myself down to the step as the reality hits me. Declan stands at my back, his shins pressing into me and his hand running down my hair. I can’t see Farrah and she’s not speaking. I’m trying desperately to regain control of my breathing.
“Send whatever papers need to be signed, Farrah, and please don’t ever come back here. Your fiancé can send his contact information along with the paperwork and Ava will get in touch with you if she ever feels the need.” His voice comes out in the authoritative tone that I hate, but am grateful for at the moment.
Farrah’s heels click on the floor and a second later I hear the front door slowly open and then close again. Dec sits down next to me, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. We’re quiet; we don’t move, we just sit there, the sound of our even breathing the only noise surrounding us. The front door opens behind us sometime later, I’m not sure how long, but I’m guessing it’s been quite a while that we’ve been down here, because my butt is definitely numb now that I’ve broken out of my trance. Declan’s head snaps up and his hand reaches out for mine as he quickly looks back to see who’s coming in. Greyden.
“Uh… hey. Everything okay?” he asks hesitantly, never one to pry.
“Sunshine, why don’t you go get in the shower before Harper gets home. I’m going to hit the gym with Grey for a bit.” He sounds off, resigned or desolate maybe.
I look at him for a beat before swinging my gaze to Greyden, who looks none to happy about Declan’s declaration, especially since he’s still wearing the same clothes from last night. I’m not a needy girlfriend, but today I need to know that he’s dealing with this new revelation and that it’s something we’re going to survive. I don’t know how to say all of that, so I just look back at him and hope that he can read my questions and emotions that I’m sure are swimming in my eyes.
He leans over and kisses me while holding my head close to his. “Please, baby. I just need to… I don’t exactly know what I need, but I just have to go for a little while. I’ll be back soon, promise.” I nod my head and he stands to put his shoes back on while Greyden groans and mumbles his displeasure.
A moment later, they’re gone and I’m left alone to process the biggest news of my life.
Chapter Nineteen
Declan
Greyden’s driving and hasn’t asked a single question or made a single comment. Fine with me; I need to process this shit some more. I know Ava’s worried, I can imagine why, but I can’t focus on that right now. This morning I had a kid, a beautiful little girl that I have fallen completely in love with and have already accepted responsibility for—gladly accepted. But now, this is real, not just a decision Ava and I are making. This is not a pieced together family. No. This is my biological flesh and blood. And I missed out on the first two and a half years of it, of her, my daughter. My daughter.
“Harper’s my kid.” The words just tumbled out of my mouth quietly as I watch a blur of blue and tan whirl past my window. The ocean is a close resemblance to what’s churning inside of me right now, what’s been churning since Amy, or fucking Farrah, turned to face me in my house.
“Yeah, she made that pretty clear last night.” Grey chuckles a little, but not wholeheartedly. “You having second thoughts on that? Is that why you’re letting me chauffeur your ass around right now?”
Fuckin’ A. He’s not going to get this until I spell it out for him. He’s a smart dude, but knocked up chicks and kids aren’t his forte. I scrub my face with my hands and drag in a deep breath before spilling my guts, hoping I can keep it together and not freak the fuck out like I really want to. I should be in the gym, hitting something, someone, not sitting in the damn car.
“Remember a few years back, our senior year of college, when we were hanging with that frat from State?”
Greyden thinks for just a minute then nods his head and turns down the radio.
“And the girl I was sleeping with at the time?” I prod.
He lets out another little laugh, a quiet one, and shakes his head knowingly. “Yeah, she was relentless, so determined to get your ass in bed—and you finally caved!” He laughs a little louder. “What was her name? She always made a big deal out of you not using a pet name, she wanted to hear her whole name…” He snaps his fingers when it hits him. “Amy! That’s it!”
“Farrah, actually,” I try to fill my lungs full of air and prepare to repeat what just took place, “she said her name was Amy, but she was lying. It’s Farrah Sterling, and she was seventeen years old.” Fuck. This is the only time I will ever be thankful that Ava’s parents are assholes. I could have been in so much shit for not only sleeping with an underage girl, but going balls to the wall and getting her pregnant.
“Sterling, as in…”
“Ava’s little sister…Harper’s biological mother,” I say, filling in the pieces for him.
He could have done it, I’m sure but why make him figure it out when it won’t leave the tip of my tongue? Greyden pulls the car over to a lookout point and gets out of the car. He has a good idea. I follow suit and we sit on the hood of his car while we stare out at the ocean.
* * * * * *
Preparing for this conversation I’m about to have with Ava is making me feel like shit. I understand the logic and simplicity of it, I also know that she will not. To me, she signs her name on a couple papers and we never mention it again, that’ll be the end of it. To her it’s going to be like signing her life away. If Ava would marry me, legally, then nothing would ever have to be said or done, but she won’t. To be on the cautious side of life, the prepared and realistic side of life, I have to have a conversation with her this afternoon that is going to shred her to pieces.
Ava is a very intelligent woman and she doesn’t have a flare for the dramatic, but I fear that she may lose her shit over this. So I did something that I thought I would never do. I called Jackson. Aside from me, he’s her best friend. I know I can get her to see things my way at some point, I just don’t know how long that’s going to take. I asked him to be here for her in case she decides she needs some time or in the worst case scenario, she won’t see things my way at all and decides not to sign the papers I’m asking her to sign today.
I figured it would be best if Harper were with Aubrey at the park and not with my family when I speak
to Ava about this, and that’s where they are now. This last week has been hell on us. I haven’t made it easy; our turmoil has been entirely my fault. I just don’t know how to handle this situation any other way. I’m pissed off at the world right now. I want to physically hurt Farrah for taking away the first years of Harper’s life from me. I missed out completely and I was never even given the chance.
Ava just texted and said she just got home from class, which is perfect timing, because I just pulled up to the house. We’re the only ones here. Typically I’d be running inside to her, but not today. Today, my feet feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. The weather is fitting for my mood, overcast, cool, and gloomy. The house is silent when I pull open the door and head towards the kitchen. Once I cross through the dining room, I see my beautiful girl sitting at the breakfast table, staring out the back windows into the cloudy day. She’s wearing a hoodie that’s too big for her, the sleeves covering her hands, which have a death grip on a coffee mug in front of her on the table. She turns her face to me as I set my things down on the counter. The wind is sucked right of me when I see that she’s been crying. Her eyes are red and swollen, even her nose and lips are red and puffy. I don’t know how to do this. Ultimately I am making a choice and I’m not putting her first, but how can I when it comes down to it? This is my kid we’re talking about, my flesh and blood. My flesh and blood or the love of my life?