Alton's Secret Baby

by Iris Parker

  His presence in my life.

  Whether it was his reassuring smile, the way he stroked my cheek with such tenderness, or even his habit of rubbing my shoulders when times got tough, Alton was always there for me.

  My phone suddenly sprang to life, my mother’s distinctive ringtone playing from inside my pocket. The noise startled me out of my reverie, and I hurried to answer it quickly. We’d made arrangements to keep in touch daily and meet up regularly over the summer, but I was still surprised that she would be calling so soon.

  “Hey Mom! What’s up?” I asked, the unfamiliar scenery flying by outside the window. We were on a long, stabilized stretch of dirt road, a fast succession of maple trees and oaks decorating the path to Alton’s farm.

  My mother answered the question with an uneasy laugh, and I couldn’t help but feel nervous all over again. Had something gone horribly wrong already?

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Alton…,” she said with another sharp laugh—or was it a sob?

  Now I really was spooked. Alton was still stuck back in Boston, delayed for a few days thanks to some Bruins-related business. Leaving him behind had been much, much harder than I’d anticipated, and I’d felt rattled by that. Attachment was the last thing I could deal with right now, I’d thought, but now I knew that I was wrong.

  Something happening to Alton was the last thing I could deal with right now. As soon as my mother had said his name, my mind went crazy with imagining the horrible possibilities. Each one left me feeling cold and queasy, and in the space of just a few seconds I’d managed to terrorize myself.

  “What about Alton?” I asked finally, my voice a little sharper than I intended. “Is he okay?”

  “What? Of course he’s okay,” my mother said, and my relief was palpable. All the fear and anxiety vanished in an instant, leaving me feeling ridiculous for jumping to conclusions like that.

  “Well that’s a relief,” I said, feeling sheepish. Somewhere in the back of my mind I chided myself again for getting so attached. I’d been worried about how hard it was to say goodbye, but apparently just hearing his name while we were apart was enough to send me hurtling towards irrational panic. “So, uh, you had news about Alton?”

  “He’s an amazing young man,” my mother said.

  That really isn’t news, I thought, just barely managing to avoid embarrassing myself a second time by saying it out loud. Instead I just hummed a generic mmmm? sound of general interest, hoping she’d continue without more prompting.

  “I’m going to the Caribbean!” my mom finally blurted out, making the same delirious laugh from before. “He bought me a cruise! All expenses paid, for me and Susie both! Can you believe that? I can’t believe that!”

  “What? No way!” I said, wondering how he knew that my mother had always wanted to celebrate her retirement by going on a cruise with her best friend—a plan that had fallen apart as soon as Ezra got sick. I’d known that Alton sometimes visited Ezra even during my mother’s overnight vigils, but now I wondered just how much the two had confided in each other during those long nights.

  “I’m as surprised as you are! We just got off the phone and he told me all about it, we’re actually leaving tomorrow!” she squealed, her giddy excitement obvious even over the phone. I couldn’t help but burst into laughter myself, incredibly happy for her. “That is, assuming you and Ezra will be okay without me for a little while. Will you?”

  “We’re not even in the same state, Mom!” I giggled. “Of course we’ll be okay. You told me once to enjoy breaks when I could get them, and right now we’re all getting a break. Enjoy it, you deserve it just as much as me. More, even!”

  After that my mom excitedly went over all the details of the cruise, from its route to all the amenities the ship had available. She also gushed more than a little bit about how great Alton was, and I couldn’t help but agree. By the time the call ended, she’d given me a lot to think about.

  I’d been grateful all along, of course. But now that I was no longer obsessively worrying about Ezra twenty-four hours a day, I was starting to realize just how much I really owed to Alton. He’d been there day in and day out, a bastion of stability when everything else was uncertain. He’d been my rock, caring and supportive the whole way. Now that our needs were changing, so too was his support changing. He was more than a kind voice and a shoulder to cry on, and his flamboyant generosity had solved several issues before they even became problems.

  A feeling of warmth washed over my body, eventually settling into my cheeks. As the car turned and we entered Alton’s long and winding driveway through the woods, I pulled out my phone one more time.

  “Hey,” Alton’s warm voice answered immediately. “Are you there already? How was your flight? How’s Ezra doing?”

  “Hey,” I said back happily, my mother’s giddiness still contagious. “We’re just pulling in now. Ezra’s doing well, and the flight was great. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re more than welcome,” Alton answered gracefully. “Give a hug to the Hamiltons for me, would you? Pete and Nanette are two of the best caretakers around. And tell Nanette that I said to just go ahead and double everything she cooks for you, okay? You need it.”

  “You’re crazy,” I laughed. “Eating that much will just make me sick.”

  “But it’ll help plump you up, too.”

  “You mean I’m not plump enough already?” I touched my belly, which seemed as if it had popped out considerably in the last few days.

  “I’m certainly not going to complain about it,” Alton said, and I wondered if I was imagining the hint of desire in his voice. However much I cherished our weekend in Atlantic City, our mutual attraction had been completely shut down by worry over Ezra. It felt almost like a relief that Alton would allow himself such a sexual innuendo now.

  It also felt terrifying.

  Before I could dwell however, he continued. “But you heard the doctor. You need to eat better and eat more. I’ll know Nanette is doing her job if you’ve gained a few pounds by the time I get there.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I teased, enjoying the conversation immensely. It was as if I could feel the life running through my veins again, genuinely energized for the first time since Ezra got sick—or longer than that, if I were being honest. Stephen’s death had taken an immense toll, and the thought of getting even a little happiness back was almost a foreign concept to me at this point.

  I wasn’t even sure I knew how to live a normal life anymore.

  “Great,” Alton agreed happily. “So now that I’ve pelted you with questions and badgered you to eat more like an old Italian grandmother, what were you actually calling about?”

  “To tell you that you’re crazy,” I laughed. “I mean I knew that when you chartered a helicopter to fly us out to your second house, but an all-inclusive cruise for my mother and her best friend? It’s all so expensive, it’s—”

  “It’s nowhere near as expensive as raising a child,” Alton interrupted, leaving me speechless. “Especially doing it alone. Especially when he has cancer. And he’s my son too, you know. The way I see it, buying your mother a cruise is pretty much nothing.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered eventually, a lump in my throat as the man continued to impress me. “You really didn’t have to, but thank you.”

  “I’m just glad I can help. Believe me, it’s the best feeling in the world,” Alton explained, and I wanted to ask him if he knew just how damned perfect he was. But around that time we’d finally cleared the trees, and I got my first clear look at Alton’s house. What I saw made me gasp in awe.

  Nestled away in a magnificent, ancient forest of pine trees and towering sycamore, the main building was a huge, renovated farmhouse with red wooden siding, white-trimmed windows, and a dark grey roof. As we got closer I made out even more details, like the enormous covered porch that covered one side of the house. It was practically a room of its own, enclosed by a mesh screen that covered the whole
area and kept it safe from insects. Inside I could see a cozy collection of furniture, including a large wrought-iron table with matching chairs. Opposite the table was a swinging sofa, securely mounted to the top of the porch with four heavy chains.

  Everything about the farmhouse looked cozy and welcoming, a warm blend of rustic and modern that clearly had a lot of thought behind it. Standing on the front step was a woman, with a large smile and a welcoming wave. She motioned to the window, and her grin got even wider as she pointed to a freshly-baked pie that was just cooling off.

  I pinched myself.

  Somehow, I didn't wake up.

  Jessie

  I didn’t know what I was expecting from the live-in caretaker of a luxurious upstate farmhouse, especially not when that house was owned by Alton. Would she reflect his wild public image, his softer private side, or something else entirely?

  Despite not having any idea what to expect, within moments of meeting Mrs. Hamilton it became very clear that she was exactly what I should’ve anticipated. She was absolutely in her element here, and I quickly found it impossible to imagine the place without her.

  “Welcome,” the short, bulky woman called out as she approached, giving me a firm and welcoming handshake as soon as she arrived. “We’ve been expecting you.”

  “Thanks,” I answered cheerfully. “I’m Jessie, and this is—”

  “Ezra, of course!” Mrs. Hamilton answered, peeking into the car and giving my son a big smile. “Come on inside, my husband will take care of your luggage.”

  I watched as a heavily bearded man who looked to be in his early sixties walked up and greeted me with the same enthusiasm his wife had shown just moments before. He introduced himself as Pete Hamilton, and his wife was Nanette.

  Pete had no trouble finding our luggage, and within moments he was strutting back to the house with suitcases in hand. Like his wife, Mr. Hamilton moved with a grace and confidence that must’ve come from living here for many years. I wondered how long ago Alton had bought the place, and what exactly he’d had in mind for it.

  Did he come here to hide from the world, or to hide from his own public persona? The farmhouse was luxurious to be sure, but it still represented the simpler things in life. Even after having gotten to know the real Alton somewhat, I still found it difficult to picture him living in a place like this.

  Did he really spend his entire vacation here, just relaxing by the lake? I tried to imagine him on his porch, perhaps whittling away at a piece of wood as the long summer days passed by peacefully. I could almost see it, but nevertheless felt surprised that he’d enjoy such a quiet and secluded space.

  “Come on in,” Mrs. Hamilton invited, gesturing for us to follow her to the door. Ezra trailed a few steps behind, still a little too young to fully realize the value of the farmhouse or the extensive work that had clearly been put into it. Even so, his eyes rounded once we entered the foyer and saw the elegant decor.

  The floor was made up of honey-colored wooden planks, highlighting the subtle pastel shades of the walls. The entire area was bathed in a soft, golden glow, thanks in part to the low-hanging metallic light fixtures. Each one had been placed to accentuate the room’s natural light and draw attention to the tall ceiling, which gracefully followed the curve of the house’s A-frame roof.

  The entire room was furnished with glossy wooden chairs and tables. All of it looked to be made from the same polished wood as the floor, giving the appearance that the furniture had somehow sprung up from the ground on its own. From the corner of my eye I could see a large, spotless kitchen just to the right.

  “Welcome to Fennel Road Farm,” Mr. Hamilton chimed in, returning to the foyer from a long hallway that ran opposite the kitchen. He walked over to his wife, placing his hand on her back as he gave us another big smile. “If you need anything at all, we’re here to help. Alton said the priority for the two of you was rest and good food—he actually made sure to insist on that last point, several times.”

  “I made a pie,” Mrs. Hamilton said.

  “She made a pie,” Mr. Hamilton agreed.

  “I’m sorry if that intruded on your day,” I said awkwardly.

  “Not at all!” Mrs. Hamilton said with a laugh. “I love baking. And besides, technically I made two pies. But only one of them is left, and that one is all yours,” she said, rubbing her stomach with a wink. “Although I do see now why Alton insisted that I keep you well-fed, my goodness! Next time I bake, I’ll be sure to make at least three.”

  I blushed, wondering just how much Alton had shared with the couple.

  “Wait, next time?” Ezra asked excitedly. “You mean you’ll keep making pies?”

  “As much as you want, just say the word,” Mrs. Hamilton offered, and Ezra was grinning from ear to ear.

  “You mean I can—” he began.

  “—You’re not eating pie for dinner every night,” I interrupted, playfully running my hand across the top of his head. Ezra looked up, giving me a classic aww-but-Mom look.

  “I’m so glad to see that he has his appetite back,” Mrs. Hamilton remarked.

  “Yes,” I agreed, fighting back tears of relief. The entire exchange had been so normal that it really drove home the reality of our situation—Ezra truly was getting better, finally.

  All thanks to Alton.

  “Alton’s been keeping us informed for the past few months, and we’ve been rooting so hard for this little boy,” Mr. Hamilton explained with a smile. Once again, I was left wondering exactly how much they knew—were they aware of the fact that Ezra was Alton’s son? What about the baby I was so obviously carrying?

  I shivered, a few beads of sweat running down the side of my neck and into the growing valley between my breasts. Because of Ezra’s illness, I’d barely had time to stop and think since getting pregnant. But soon I’d have a newborn daughter to raise and care for, another dramatic change in a life that had lost all semblance of stability long ago. I ran my fingers over my belly, and almost immediately felt a small kick on the palm of my hand.

  Once again I was caught up in a complicated mix of guilt and anticipation, fear and excitement. Stephen and I had planned all the details of my first pregnancy so carefully, only to have everything we knew and loved turned around and destroyed mercilessly. I’d been so lost back then, without the slightest clue of what I was supposed to do next, or even how I was supposed to feel. It was a cruel twist of fate that, ten years later, I once again found myself in the same situation.

  I didn’t even have a job at this point, and ultimately I was still responsible for raising two children by myself. Alton was kind enough to put me up for one summer, but what did the future hold? I couldn’t rely on his charity forever, even if he was willing to keep giving me handouts. And I couldn’t even be certain of that, really.

  Alton seemed to love action and excitement, being in the middle of things. He’d certainly gotten plenty of that over the past few months. He’d dramatically swooped in to save Ezra’s life and keep me from losing my mind, for which I was forever grateful. But how would he feel in another year, or two, or ten?

  Alton was a hero…but where do heroes go after the dragon is defeated? Would Alton truly be content with mundane things like PTA meetings and school plays, or had it been the life-and-death stakes which had kept him so interested? The truth was that I had no idea what the future held, and I didn’t like that one bit.

  The sound of Ezra’s voice brought me back to reality, and I realized that I’d lost track of the conversation.

  “You’ll be safe in your bedroom, I made sure to clean it real good. I spent the whole day on it,” Mrs. Hamilton said reassuringly. “You’ll be right next to your mom and Alton, too. Tomorrow, Pete’s going to run to town to get you a couple of consoles to play—Alton’s idea, but we were so busy cleaning we didn’t have time yet. And of course there’s lots of fishing you can do once you’re feeling a bit better. Pete and Alton both could take you out to the lake.”

  Mrs
. Hamilton’s words were comforting, but my sense of unease lingered and continued to grow. Soon it became overwhelming, a feeling of pressure like something had taken hold of my chest and refused to let go. It was like an invisible hand was squeezing my entire body, twisting my heart and making it hard to breathe. With the room spinning, I put my hands down and leaned over the table next to me, trying to catch my balance.

  “Easy!” Mr. Hamilton said, catching me by the shoulder to make sure I didn’t fall. “Are you okay?”

  “Sorry,” I said, looking down at the table awkwardly. I was glad to be safe, but I was already making a scene within minutes of arriving. I’d even smeared the table with obvious handprints, marring the freshly polished surface and undoing some of Mrs. Hamilton’s hard work. “I’m okay, just tired.”

  “Well of course you’re tired,” Mrs. Hamilton agreed, shaking her head. “You must be exhausted. What am I doing here, talking your ear off after the day you’ve had?”

  I smiled faintly and nodded, agreeing with the understatement. The truth was that I’d been tired for a very long time now, almost to the point where I couldn’t remember what it felt like to not be tired. Almost my entire adult life had been a long string of upsets and upheavals, my attempts to find happiness leading me from one calamity to the next.

  Fertility problems had once threatened my marriage’s stability. We’d been devastated to learn that Stephen couldn’t have children, but using the donor sperm had been his idea. He’d insisted that he didn’t care who the biological father was, and all he wanted was the chance to raise a family with me.

  It was a chance he never got. He’d seemed perfectly healthy when I got pregnant, but I was already a widow by the time Ezra was born. Being a single mother had been a constant struggle, but I’d made it work with the help of countless sleepless nights. And then Ezra had gotten sick, followed by the terrible revelation that it was cancer. It was like watching the same tragedy play out again in slow motion, the familiar fear settling back inside of me and refusing to let go.