Shattered Heart

by Ann Stewart

  “I’d really like to take him for a few hours one day.”

  “You know where my parents live and have their number. But, good luck with coordinating it,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’d love to hear from you.”

  I’m confused as ever. Hands joined, I was silly to think I could give him strength. But instead, Oliver is more tense and distant, and with that he starts to loosen his once tight hold on my hand. A silent war was happening between us. He knows he has some explaining to do and I’m smart enough to wait. There is no way I’m going to give her any more fuel to add to his fire.

  “You think this is funny? I’ve cleaned up; I’m ready to be in his life. I won’t let you take him to a different state. I’m going to petition to have shared custody again.”

  “Why does it even matter to you? It’s been how many years? He doesn’t know you. Why fight me on this now?” Oliver’s voice travels throughout the tight space causing heads to turn in our direction. “You know what…we aren’t having this discussion. Have your lawyer talk to my lawyer.” Oliver releases my hand and crosses his arms over his chest in finality.

  Melanie stomps her foot like a two year old having a fit. “You’re so fucking unreasonable. This is why we didn’t work in the first place.” She huffs, crossing her arms and frowning at him.

  “Oh my! All this time I thought it was because you cheated on me!” Oliver slaps his hand against the table as he turns to face her. “Please, continue to enlighten me with all of this new found knowledge.”

  “You’re such a dick. I explained that.”

  “Ya you were high and lonely and blah blah blah.” Oliver uses his hand to mock a mouthing motion. “Save it, Mel.”

  With a puff she tugs on Rex’s hand and drags him to the door. Oliver doesn’t bother turning his head to watch them leave. Instead he closes his eyes and takes a deep calming breath. I wait patiently, sipping on my orange juice, attempting to eat a few bites while he gains his composure.

  “She sure is a piece of work,” I comment after my sip of juice.

  Oliver roughly runs his hands over his face in frustration. I can’t help but try to picture her with Alex. She doesn’t seem like the type of girl who would interest him. Then again, if you’re just looking for sex, I can see why she would be appealing. However, the moment that woman opened her mouth, I wanted to stab myself in the ear in hopes of drowning out the faux sweetness of her voice.

  “Thanks for…well, you know,” his voice sounds so full of despair, so unlike Oliver.

  “No problem.” I would do it again.

  Oliver opens one eye as if checking to make sure the coast is clear. “I guess the cats out of the bag?”

  “So, based on the enlightening conversation we just had with Cruella De Vil, I’m guessing…” I don’t want to be presumptuous and be wrong, so I let him tell me. Besides, this is big. He shouldn’t hide something so monumental in his life. Does he think so little of me, that I wouldn’t understand? Or worse, not be friends with him?

  “Yah, I have a kid, Elyssa.” There it was. I never said anything, or rarely ever thought it, but there was something about Oliver that I didn’t understand. Why move to Las Vegas if he was always back in San Diego every weekend. I never imagined Oliver as a Dad. Then again, I never imagined me and Alex as parents either.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Guess I didn’t want to scare you away. Being a single parent, it’s hard to gauge what a woman’s response is to another woman’s kid.” I nod my head. I never considered that. Finding someone to spend your life with is already difficult enough, not to mention the baggage that comes along with bringing children into a relationship. I guess I can’t blame him.

  “Well, you should have told me. You having a kid doesn’t affect our friendship.” I tilt my head, accentuating the word friendship hoping Oliver understands.

  “God, you’re so blind sometimes.” He shakes his head as he throws two twenties down on the table and stands. He extends his hand to me, “Ready to meet my family?”

  I smile, placing my hand in his. I hate that Oliver’s so comforting, but everything about him is just a band aid over the gaping hole inside of me. I’m still bleeding, yet, unbeknownst to me, he slows it down.

  ~~~~~

  “Daddy!” A little boy jumps off the front step of the house the instant we pull into the driveway. His backpack bounces behind him as he struggles to run across the grass as fast as he can.

  “Hey, little man!” Oliver picks him up, swinging him around before pulling him tight against his chest in a constricting embrace. The little boy doesn’t seem to mind. Dark hair…check. Green eyes…check. Boyish smile…check. The ‘little man’ is a spitting image of his Dad. “God, I’ve missed you,” he smiles, kissing his son on the forehead.

  Watching the two of them together a wave of guilt crashes into me and my heart constricts. Moments like these, this is what Alex will miss. What’s the point of living, when half of you is missing, especially when you never knew it existed?

  Pointing a finger in my direction, his sweet voice rings with wonder, “Who’s that, Daddy?”

  “This is my friend, Elyssa.” Oliver puts him down and Mason quickly runs to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Go say hi.”

  “Hi Lyssa.” Close enough. How fricking cute?

  I kneel, bringing myself to his level. “Hi Mason, it’s very nice to meet you.”

  Suddenly shy, Mason runs the tip of his bright superhero shoes over the driveway. “Those are some pretty cool shoes. You like superheroes?”

  Mason nods, his face lightening up. “Ya, my Daddy says I’m gonna be as big as Thor some day.”

  “Wow Thor! Those are some pretty big shoes to fill.”

  “My Daddy says it’s good to have big shoes because women will like me when I’m older.” I look at Mason incredulously as he looks at me with pure innocence. I look up at Oliver laughing under his breath.

  “I’m sure you won’t have any problem with the ladies when you get older, Mason.” I run my fingers through his hair before standing.

  “Are you my Daddy’s girlfriend?” God, how is that even a child can make me blush? “Cause I have a girlfriend. We share bubble gum.”

  I giggle at his innocence. What I wouldn’t give to go back to when things were simpler. “No, your Daddy’s just my friend.”

  “Gampa, Gampa Daddy has a friend. Her name is Lyssa.”

  The male genes in this family must be strong. The resemblance between the man who has made his way over to us, and the two generations after him, is remarkable. “Dad, this is Elyssa.”

  We shake hands, and just as instantly as I felt acceptance with Oliver, his Dad makes me feel the same. His strong, yet soft hand engulfs mine, and he smiles. “It’s a pleasure to meet any friend of my son’s.” I smile and nod. It would be easy to get use to this.

  “You taking him to school?” Oliver asks his Dad, bringing him in for a full on bear hug.

  “Yah, the little guy didn’t want to leave until he saw you.” Oliver’s Dad points to the door. “You guys must be tired. Go inside and make yourselves at home.”

  “Alright buddy, give me a hug.” Mason runs back to where Oliver stands and says goodbye.

  Before getting in the car, Mason whispers to Oliver, “Daddy you should share your bubble gum with her. She knows who Thor is.” He giggles and slams the door to the late model Charger. Boys and their toys. I guess this is another trait all Prescott men share.

  Oliver smirks in my direction. I’m not sure if its pride or the uncanny resemblance Mason has to Oliver’s persistence, but whatever it is, the look Oliver’s giving me could set a woman’s panties on fire.

  Oliver takes my duffle bag and grabs my hand leading me inside. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

  ~~~~~

  Their home is warm, inviting, and reminds me of a time when I believed everything was right in the world. Once Mason came home from school, he was so excited t
hat he woke me from my nap, which was a good thing since I wanted to take a shower and change my clothes before spending the night with Oliver’s family.

  After a quick shower, I pull on a pair of jeans and pair it with a simple pink blouse before walking down the hallway. The living room is lit with the crackling fire from a nearby fireplace. Oliver and Mason are laid out on their belly’s staring over a piece of paper, which I assume is his homework.

  “What’re you guys studying?” I inquire from the mouth of the hallway.

  Both Oliver and Mason look up at me as I get closer, kneeling on the floor next to them.

  “Mason is the star student of the week. So he has to talk about himself tomorrow.” Oliver points to a poster size piece of paper with a large star fish on it.

  I look at the different sections and notice a portion that asks him what his favorite day of the week is. “So what’s your favorite day of the week?”

  “Saturday.” He looks up at me as he explains, “I know that when I wake up, my Daddy will be home.” When he’s done, he tilts his head to Oliver and grins. Honestly, if that doesn’t warm you heart, I don’t know what would.

  I watch as Mason draws a picture of him and Oliver, who’s at least nine feet tall in Crayola world, throwing a ball to one another. Oliver patiently helps Mason cut out different pictures from magazines that he, with Oliver’s help, glues to different parts of the poster paper.

  His masterpiece is almost finished, final touches include a picture of Thor (of course), one of his grandparents, and lastly one of his Dad. I look over the paper and notice the lack of a mother figure. Regardless, Mason is a sweet, charismatic boy who gives me hope.

  Silverware clanking nearby draws my attention to Oliver’s Dad. While I observe him set the table, the scent of something mouth-watering wafts in from the nearby kitchen. When I stand, Oliver’s hand brushes mine; we have a very short but intense staring contest before he asks where I’m headed.

  “I think I’m going to see if your Mom needs my help.” He nods, giving Mason back his attention like nothing happened, therefore so do I and I follow the heavenly aromas like Toucan Sam. I find Oliver’s Mom running around, grabbing items from the fridge, chopping some shallots, and then running back to the stove to stir.

  “Do you need any help?”

  Oliver’s Mother, whose name I learned when we came in the house this morning is Rebecca, turns and gives me the same sweet grin her grandson just gave. “Sure dear, could you take the rolls out of the oven and place them in that basket for cooling?”

  I grab the oven mitts. “Thank you for letting me stay in your home. Your house is beautiful.”

  She looks around her comfy abode with love in her eyes. “I’ve raised my family in this house. A home full of memories is what makes it worth living in.”

  I hope to have that; a home where I can raise my baby. My mind goes back to the last happy moments I had with Alex. When he offered to sell his house and buy us a home. A home he intended to live in with me; where we could raise our baby together.

  My eyes roam over the little knick knacks that line the counter top and the wall full of pictures they’ve accumulated over the years. My eyes start to water. His Mother rushes over and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Oh honey, are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry, Rebecca. Really I’m fine.” I try to bat away her affections. What a nut I must seem. I come home with her son, meet the family, and end up sobbing in a kitchen with his Mother and a handful of rolls. Before I turn into a complete mess, I respond with the honesty. “You have an incredible family. Just brings back memories.”

  She nods. She seems to know that I’m not going to give her more, and I say that because she goes right back to stirring her gravy. A little while later the table is dressed with a roasted chicken, multiple sides of veggies, mashed potatoes and a bottle of wine. The doctor said I could have a glass, but I’ve realized that pregnancy has made me super paranoid. I don’t want to chance anything going wrong.

  Mason is the cutest kid on the planet. The way he tells us about his day, how he shared a piece of gum with his girlfriend and she kissed him on the cheek. If relationships were that easy, then I’d share a billion pieces of gum with Alex and we’d be the happiest couple ever. Marriages would require a prescription of Hubba Bubba and all would be right with the world.

  During dinner I also learned that Oliver’s parents have been married for thirty years. Can you imagine thirty years with the same person? Well actually, I had those same thoughts when I agreed to move in with Alex. I pictured us during the first day of Kindergarten, Prom, High School graduation, and everything in between and after.

  It’s really kind of sad that I’m having a beautiful dinner with the most perfect family, yet all my thoughts keep traipsing back to Alex. I desperately needed the time to clear my head, but I was wrong when I thought distance would help. Now my brain is even cloudier than before.

  “So Elyssa, do you have a boyfriend?” I choke on a piece of chicken as Oliver glares at his mother from across the table. “What? That’s a perfectly normal question, right?” She feigns a look of innocence, but I can tell this is where Oliver gets his mouth from. His father on the other hand has been quiet, yet socially pleasant.

  “Um-Uh…I’m not so sure. We’re…it’s complicated,” I stutter, twirling my fork through the lake of gravy on my plate.

  “Mom, leave her alone.” Oliver tries to come to the rescue, which is shocking considering he’s usually the one strong arming me about said relationship status.

  “I’m just trying to figure out if I have another grandchild coming in the future.” Oh my God, is this woman freaking psychic? Baby yes, Oliver being the Daddy, no.

  “MOM! She’s my friend. She just needed to get out of town for awhile. Leave it.”

  “Well, I figured something made you move to a whole different state. I thought maybe she was the reason.”

  “Rebecca, stop emasculating your son.” I giggle out of pure awkwardness while Oliver’s Dad chews on a piece of chicken.

  “What’s emas-cul-ating?” Mason asks, trying to pronounce the word slowly.

  We all look at one another before erupting in laughter, ending the uncomfortable conversation. Oliver apologizes with his eyes as he rolls them in his mother’s direction. I tilt my head and shrug my shoulders in response. No harm done.

  I wonder how much of Oliver’s pursuit his Mother really knows about. I’m sure it’s more than she’s letting on. They have a closeness, a bond, that you only need be in the room to feel. There’s a flutter in my belly for the first time and I wonder if the feeling is the baby or the unease of comfort I feel around this strangely charismatic family.

  A glance over at Oliver, I see him throw his head back in laughter after tossing a piece of bread at his Dad’s casual nature. They make it seem so easy. Family. It’s been me, Rachel and Bryan for the longest and although we’re the three musketeers, it’s never felt this easy. It could be the emptiness we feel from our parents’ absence. It could be the fact that, although Rachel tried to be a mother figure, she really is just my sister. Regardless, being here and seeing what I’ve seen with only a day under my belt, gives me something to shoot for in my future.

  “Daddy!” Mason yells above the roar of laughter from the table. Everyone quiets down looking at the little brown headed boy. “Let’s go watch a movie before grandma emasculates you again.” He giggles, grabbing his plate to take into the kitchen.

  “You heard the man,” Oliver whispers in my ear after casually picking up my plate to follow behind his son.

  CHAPTER 20

  Saturday, December 15, 2012

  All I remember from last night was falling asleep during the movie, snuggled next to a stretched out Mason. When he grabbed my arm to drape it across his chest, nestling into my shoulder, I almost lost it. He’s the most affectionate kid I’ve ever met, not that I’ve been around too many children. There was something so comforting knowing that he took
to me so quickly.

  Jostled awake, I recall opening my eyes to find myself tucked closely to Oliver. He carried me, infant style; arms under my shoulders and knees, my head resting on his shoulder. He must have already taken Mason to bed, because I distinctly remember Oliver’s scent being the only one in the room. I’m not sure what it is about men and how they smell, but when a man smells good, it’s practically toe curling orgasmic. Oliver doesn’t use the expensive colognes, instead he smells clean, like aftershave mixed with his natural rugged scent. Not my favorite, only because it’s not Alex, but he comes in at a close second.

  That right there is precisely the problem. For me, Oliver seems to always come in second, and he, of all people, doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s second. He is worthy of being someone’s one and only.

  But, how can I forget the selfless act as he tucked me into bed last night. When his lips lightly grazed my forehead, I pretended to be asleep. The sheer intimacy when a man shows affection when no one is aware is something to cherish. A man with his emotions, with no ulterior motives, is priceless. When we made it into my room, he decided to tuck me in. I could feel him hovering over me, and after a beat he bent down and brushed his nose against the nape of my neck and inhaled, placing the softest, sweetest kiss above my brow. The last thing I remember before I allowed slumber to take me away was Oliver’s deep sigh before he closed the door.

  I’m a little surprised at how much rest I was able to get. When Alex left for New York, I was lucky to get in a few hours of sleep a night. Tossing and turning, but then finally giving up, only to be exhausted the rest of the day. So, considering how I’ve destroyed him and broken my own heart, I really am surprised I was able to sleep through the entire night. I guess Oliver has turned into my own dream catcher; chasing the nightmares away. I’m not blind, though. I know there will be a cost for running away, right into his arms. I need to tread carefully. The last thing I want to do is lead him on or give him false hopes.