Fake it Baby

by Tia Siren

  Googling her a time or two had provided a little information, but only about her photography. I had secretly been looking for information about who she was dating. I imagined her hooking up with some rich dude and becoming some big socialite. If she had a kid, though, that would explain why I never read about her partying or found photos of her on the arm of some hotshot rich guy. In my mind, I had conjured up a man who I had secretly competed with. It was what had driven me to become successful in real estate. I’d been competing with the men in New York I’d assumed she was hooking up with.

  When I’d found out she was coming to town, I had wanted her to see how successful I was. I could compete with those men—almost. I wasn’t going to be buying an apartment at Trump Tower anytime soon, but I was getting closer.

  A kid. What the hell?

  Someone knew the truth and wanted me to know, too. There had to be a reason for that.

  “Helen!” I called out, jumping out of my chair after slamming my laptop shut.

  “What? Where are you going?” she questioned, clearly confused.

  I walked out of my office and looked at her. “I’m going out. I’ll be back later. If anyone calls and needs to see a property, call my cell. I’ll be busy for the next hour or so,” I told her before heading out the door.

  Climbing into my big Ford truck, I took a deep breath. She had a kid. Did that change how I felt about her? Did I still harbor that fantasy of marrying her and starting a life together? Could I love her and accept the child of another man?

  So many questions. Sitting in my truck and staring at my office wasn’t going to get any of them answered. Deep down, I knew she would lie to me if I asked her. She would tell me it was none of my business. I needed to know if it was my business or not, and I didn’t trust her to tell me the truth. I had to see with my own two eyes.

  Chapter 7

  Ashley

  The morning was beautiful. I loved the warm air untainted by overpopulation. Jasper was loving every minute at the farm.

  “Let’s go over here, Mom,” Jasper said, pointing to a spot on the edge of the cornfield. “Grandpa says he turns the dirt there a lot so there should be some good rocks there.”

  I smiled. “Go for it. I’m going to take some pictures. I can see you from here.”

  He took off running, clutching his little box of rocks in both hands. I grabbed my Nikon and started snapping pictures of him running toward the cornfield. It was beautiful. The photos may not be worth anything to buyers, but they would be precious to me. I couldn’t wait to have one printed, framed, and hung up on my dad’s wall. The farm through the eyes of a child would be perfectly captured. I just knew it.

  I spent some time photographing Jasper’s special rocks when he asked, and when he wasn’t demanding my attention, I pointed my lens at the landscape. It was so beautiful. I couldn’t believe I had walked away from all of this. It was absolutely stunning. I couldn’t wait until sunset. The sun setting behind the corn would make a spectacular picture.

  Despite being on a somewhat forced vacation, I still needed to sell some pictures. Landscapes were always a big hit. A little money to help cover the bills while I was here would certainly help out.

  I heard a truck rumbling up the drive and turned to see who it was. It wasn’t like my dad got a lot of visitors out here. The home-care nurse had left a little bit ago, and she wasn’t due back until tomorrow. My siblings were at work. For some reason, I knew it was not going to be a pleasant visit. I stood in front of Jasper, blocking him from view with my body.

  “Oh shit,” I murmured.

  “Mom! You said a bad word!” Jasper said in an accusing tone.

  Damn straight I did. It was Brock. I’d heard people say their lives flashed before their eyes in moments of crisis. I now knew exactly what that meant. My life as I knew it evaporated the moment I saw Brock climb out of that big truck of his.

  Jasper stood up and came to stand beside me.

  “Who’s that?” he asked.

  I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t.

  Brock stalked across the yard, his stride long and purposeful. He was obviously on a mission.

  “What are you doing here?” I went on the offensive, hoping to stop him from coming close.

  It didn’t stop him. His eyes were focused on Jasper. I could see him inspecting every feature. He had to recognize the hair that was just like his own, the dark blue eyes that resembled his. Jasper was tall for his age but a little stocky. I imagined Brock was the same when he was a young boy.

  “Mom,” Jasper whined. “Who is that?”

  Brock was standing in front of us, looking at Jasper and then at me. I could practically see him figuring it all out. I had no idea how he would react when he knew for sure.

  “Jasper, go inside and check on Grandpa, please,” I instructed, not wanting my son to hear something I wasn’t prepared to explain just yet.

  Jasper looked at me and then back at Brock. “Okay,” he said.

  Once Jasper was out of earshot, Brock looked at me. “Yours?”

  His breath was coming fast and his normally tanned skin had paled a few shades.

  I nodded.

  “How old?” His voice was strained, as if he had been screaming for the last twenty-four hours.

  This was the final nail in my coffin. I knew that, but I had promised myself I would be honest. No more hiding. No more running away from my past.

  I cleared my throat and looked down at my feet. “Five.”

  He was quiet for a few minutes.

  “Five?” He choked on the word. “Five?” he repeated.

  I nodded my head in affirmation, unable to meet his eyes. This was my day of reckoning, and it was turning out to be as bad as I had feared. This was why I had stayed away, and clearly, I had been a coward for good reason.

  I watched him draw the right conclusion. My heart ached as he put two and two together. He looked at me with disappointment, hurt, and then pure anger.

  “Is—”

  I stopped him. “Yes.”

  I knew what he was going to say. It was the question I’d been dreading for five long years, the one I’d known I would have to answer one day. I had hoped it could be over the phone or through email. I hadn’t wanted to see his face when he found out he had a son.

  He took a step back. It was as if I had kicked him. Pain crossed his face, and I knew what I had done. I had robbed him of those precious years. I hadn’t trusted him enough to give him the chance to be a father.

  “Why, Ashley? Why would you keep him from me?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t have an answer worth giving.

  “Did you know? That day, when you ran out on me, did you know you were pregnant?” he asked, his voice laced with grief.

  “Yes.”

  Once again, I had managed to shock him.

  “You knew you were pregnant with my child and you ran away without telling me? I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”

  “It was complicated,” I said, knowing it was a weak answer but not knowing how else to explain my actions back then.

  “Did your family know?”

  I shook my head. “No. I didn’t tell anyone until after Jasper was born. They never asked the question, but I think they knew who the father was.”

  He was staring out at the cornfield, his shoulders heaving up and down with ragged breaths.

  He jerked around. “Did you think it was another man’s baby? Is that why you left? You were afraid I would find out?”

  “No! There was never a doubt who the father was. You were the only possible option.”

  He raised one of those bushy brows, questioning me. “Why should I believe you?”

  “You don’t have to believe me. None of that matters,” I shot back. “Think about what you want.”

  He stepped forward, towering over me. “I want to meet him. You owe me that. I deserve to know my son.”

  “I do owe you that, and yes, you do need to meet him, but he is five
. He doesn’t understand any of this and doesn’t need to be burdened with our problems. If you want to meet him, you need to do it the right way. You can’t go into the meeting pissed off at me,” I said. “I am his mother and he is very protective of me. You need to get your head right before you can meet him.”

  “Fuck you!” he shouted in my face. “Fuck you. How fucking dare you!” he seethed. “You had my fucking kid and didn’t tell me! Who the fuck does that?”

  And like that his grief and pain transformed into anger. It was part of the grief process, I figured. Pretty soon we would get to acceptance. I hoped we got there quickly, because I could only let him talk to me like that a short time before I fired back. I understood his rage and had expected it in some ways. Hearing the f-bombs and his complete inability to choose his words carefully told me I had crushed him. Brock was always in control, and he rarely lost it, but right now he was hovering on the edge.

  “Brock, I—”

  “I have lawyers, Ashley, and I will get them involved. I will go after visitation, maybe even custody. You can’t keep my son from me!”

  I nodded. “I understand your anger, Brock. I really do. I’m sorry you’re so mad, but don’t threaten me. You can try to sue me for custody, but I will win. Trust me. I’m not a pushover anymore. Jasper is my son and no one will take him from me.”

  I said the words in a soft tone, a tone I found to be effective at getting a point across. I knew, deep down, that if Brock attempted to take my son, I would fight like a raging tigress. I wasn’t worried in the least, however. I knew I would win. Jasper was my child. I was willing to share him, but I would never, not in a million years, give him up.

  “I doubt that. I will tell the judge what you did.” He looked directly in my eyes. “Ash, you kept my son from me.” His voice broke on the words. “I don’t understand why you would do that. I never hurt you or gave you any reason to fear me. Why would you run away with my child?”

  My heart broke all over again at seeing the pain I had caused him. It had never been my intention to hurt him. I had run away for my own selfish reasons. I wanted to explain it all to him, but I didn’t know how. He would only end up hating me more. I had wanted to tell him. I had picked up the phone a hundred times to call him, but I hadn’t. I’d even considered texting him, but that didn’t feel right.

  The initial deception had turned into one giant snowball. The longer I waited, the more excuses I had not to tell him, and one thing led to another. Before long, I’d been too embarrassed and ashamed of what I had done. I had always told myself, “This is the month, or the year, that I will call him,” but it just didn’t happen. Before I knew it, five years had passed, and here we were today.

  “Brock, I know you’re mad, but trust me, you can’t threaten to take my son away from me and think I’ll let it go. He’s my son. There is nothing and no one in this world that will keep me from him. If you hear nothing else I say, hear that. You would be wise not to test me,” I warned him.

  His eyes narrowed. “This isn’t over, and you aren’t going to get away with it. You’ll be hearing from my lawyers. If that boy is truly my son, he will know I’m his father, and I will be a part of his life,” he said, wagging his finger in my face.

  I showed no fear whatsoever. Nothing. I wouldn’t let him see my shame, my guilt, or even the tiniest flicker of fear. Brock was a formidable man. He spun around and stomped back to his truck. I stood there and watched him climb into his truck, unable to move from the spot I was standing. I had put on a brave face, but inside I was a mess. I knew Brock was about to make my life hell. I was confident I would retain custody of Jasper, but I knew I would have to share him with his father.

  Would Jasper know what I had done and resent me for it? I hoped not. I had only done what I’d thought was right at the time. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. I watched as Brock’s truck whipped around, stirring up dust as he drove too fast down the driveway. I had just opened a hellacious can of worms, as if we needed anymore cans of worms opened around here right now.

  This was why I had stayed gone so long. Being back home was supposed to be a happy time for people. Not me. I was dealing with an extremely ill father, my family’s home was being stolen right out from under us, and my son’s father had just vowed to take my child. Awesome.

  Could life get any better?

  I turned to look at the house and saw my dad and Jasper standing on the front porch. I knew they couldn’t have heard the conversation, but I had a feeling my dad knew what it was about. Jasper’s paternity had been a giant elephant in the room. It wasn’t discussed, but everyone knew. I had made it clear that Brock was to never know. I was surprised that my family, especially Anna, had managed to keep my secret for so long.

  Chapter 8

  Brock

  I couldn’t believe it. It didn’t even seem real. Everything I had thought I knew about Ashley was a lie. The woman had run away with my baby without even giving me a hint she was pregnant. She had always been so honest with me. I just couldn’t wrap my head around what she’d done. She didn’t just leave me at the altar. She left me and took our baby with her without a word.

  She had a baby. I had a baby. A son. A son who looked a lot like me. She had been in New York all this time, raising a child on her own. But why? That couldn’t have been easy. Why would she have felt so strongly about not letting me be involved? I felt like a deadbeat dad now because I’d never paid a dime of child support. I didn’t know. I just didn’t know.

  I thought back to the weeks and months before the wedding. I didn’t notice any changes in her body, and I knew her body so well. Had the clues been there and I’d ignored them?

  My truck bouncing over a large bump in the driveway made me realize I was going a little too fast, so I slowed down, realizing I was driving as fast as my mind was racing. A million thoughts ran through my head. Would I have ever known about my son if her dad hadn’t gotten sick? I knew the answer to that. No. She would have never told me. I would have gone my whole life not knowing I had a son out there.

  It wasn’t right, but I was sure as hell going to make it right. I was going to make her pay for the time I had lost with my son. She could fight me all she wanted, but I had rights. I deserved to know my own kid.

  “Why?” I said aloud. “Why would she do that?”

  I racked my brain trying to figure out what had prompted her to run away with my child. We had talked about starting a family together. We both wanted kids. We talked about living in an apartment for a few years and then moving into the family home to take over the farm. None of her siblings wanted it. She did. Or at least she had said she did. She knew I wanted kids. It made no sense.

  “Dammit!”

  I reached for my phone, quickly scrolled through my contacts, and called my attorney’s office.

  “Good morning. This is Brock Trenton. I need to speak with Bob. Is he in?”

  I waited while his secretary checked.

  “Brock! What can I do for you?” my attorney said, coming on the line.

  “I just found out I have a son. Five years old. What do I need to do to get visitation—custody or whatever? What are my rights?”

  He whistled low. “Are you on the birth certificate?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, first thing we need to do is get a DNA test. Will the mother let you get a DNA swab?”

  I thought about it. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, DNA is the best proof you can get. If she is going to fight, you will need the DNA. I can get a court order, but that will take some time. Do you want me to file?” he asked, clearly eager for more billable hours.

  “Not yet. Let me talk to her and see if she will submit to a DNA test,” I told him, suddenly hesitant to go in guns blazing. If we could manage to keep it somewhat friendly, that would be far better.

  “Okay. So once you get that, then we can start the paperwork to get your parental rights restored. Keep in mind, you will have to pay child sup
port, and if she puts up a big fuss, she can try to go after you for back support,” he warned.

  “Fine. I don’t care. I’ll pay.”

  “I’ll do some figuring and get back to you later today. I don’t handle a lot of family law, but we’ll get you taken care of, Brock,” he promised.

  Of course his firm would. I was a good client. It did help that he already had all my tax information and would know what kind of dollar amount I was looking at for child support. I didn’t care. I wanted my son.

  “Thanks, Bob. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  “All right. Well good luck and keep in touch,” he said, hanging up the phone.

  I ended the call. That had probably just cost me a hundred bucks, but at least I knew where to start. If only she would be reasonable and just let me see him. I was definitely willing to pay. I would not be one of those guys who knocked a woman up and then moved on, never seeing or supporting the child.

  I grabbed my phone again. “Helen?” I said when she answered.

  “Yes, Brock?”

  “Do I have anything on my schedule?”

  She was silent a moment. “Not that I can see.”

  “Good. I won’t be coming back in this morning. Maybe this afternoon, but I have some errands to run.”

  “Okay. Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. Fine,” I said a little too hastily.

  “Brock, what’s wrong? Don’t tell me nothing. I know you too well. You sound upset,” she said.

  I took a deep breath. While I really wanted to lay my troubles on someone, it couldn’t be Helen. We had to keep a professional relationship even though it was anything but. She was always meddling in my affairs.

  “Helen, I just need some time to take care of some things. I’ll be fine in a bit. I’m going for a run,” I finally conceded, just telling her the truth.

  “Oh, gotcha. That’s all you had to say. Have a good run. That always helps you,” she said in her motherly tone.