by Hart, Alana
"No, not this time. Really, Hilda and this guy looked perfect. Even the way they moved, they seemed to compliment each other. It was so sweet."
"I'm going to fill the tea kettle. Does anyone want a cup?"
"Oh, no. You can't get out of it that easily. Just tell us if there is a second meeting?" Lorna leaned forward eagerly.
Hilda sighed and smiled curtly.
Hilda heard the answering machine for the third time:
"Hello, this is Justine, if you've reached my answering machine then I'll try back later, thank you."
Hilda felt an emptiness at the pit of her stomach. Hilda knew she had to see her mother face-to-face. She dreaded the thought. Her calls had gone to voicemail all week.
To get Aaron to bed early, Hilda had set up a reward system. She would give him glow-in-the-dark stickers for every night he went to bed early. She needed a step-by-step routine, where she would turn off the TV at a certain hour, as too much stimulation could cause him to have more bad dreams. All this failed and the only thing Aaron wanted was for Nathan to be in the house. Nathan made Aaron feel more safe. When Aaron said this to her, it made her frustrated. She'd worked so hard to be the figure of protection for Aaron, and then she'd placed him in danger. Now Nathan, who was never in his life before that moment, was the figure of protection he felt reliant on.
It was 7:30, and with Aaron sleeping, Hilda thought that she could speak to her mother without interruption. Hilda sat on the couch and closed the bible after finishing Hebrews 11.
The cell rang. Hilda's heart pounded until she saw Nathan's number.
"Hi Nathan." Hilda walked through the apartment and spoke quietly.
"Hi Hilda, can I see you tonight? We have things to discuss." Nathan voice was serious in tone, not unusual for Hilda to hear, as he had always been a serious man.
"What's the matter Nathan? Aaron's asleep."
"It's you I need to see. Can I come over tonight?"
Hilda peered around the living room. Though she knew Nathan had good intentions, she could not take the chance. She could not trust herself around him, no matter how much she had grown to resist him.
"Look, how about you meet me tomorrow at my workplace. We can speak during my lunchbreak. So about 12ish?
The pause between them stretched to an uncomfortable degree.
"Okay." Nathan's exhaled assent made it difficult to maintain her reserve.
"Okay. See you tomorrow." Hilda hung up, leaving her to wonder what was so urgent that he had to speak with her in person. Aaron's lunch was already packed and his clothes were ready.
As Hilda laid in bed that night she thought about what Nathan wanted to discuss with her. She pushed aside the inevitable issue of Aaron learning Nathan was his father. Nathan had not mentioned it yet, and perhaps he would not bring it up. In the past he never expressed a desire for fatherhood, but he was younger back then. Nathan had matured.
A sharp pain hit her chest as she realized Nathan might want joint custody of Aaron. "No, please God." Hilda whispered. The thought was too much.
Her cell rang. Hilda gasped. Without delay, she grabbed it and saw the number.
"Mother?"
"I thought you made up your mind up that you didn't want me in yours or Aaron's life, Hilda." Her voice sounded proud.
"Mother we can't continue like this, I'm--”
"Ha, I can. I gave most of my life for you to not make the same mistakesI did, and you dismiss my efforts as if I were a sadist. If that was the way you felt then I would have been all too glad to have done this sooner."
"Please, forgive me, mother." Hilda begged.
"Hilda, I can't." Her mother whispered.
"Mother--” Hilda.
"Don't call the house or my cell again."
Hilda had flashes of memories during her childhood, where she and her mother would sit on the living room rug and play board games. Hilda always expected her father to show up. Even though her mother had told Hilda he died, Hilda still imagined him returning home, and walk in amidst the flurry of bills and receipts that surrounded her mother's bed and cuddle her mother at night.
He never came.
Despite that, after countless times where she witnessed her mother, alone in her bedroom crying, Hilda went to her room to read his letter before crying herself to sleep.
It was this that made Hilda regret speaking to her mother so harshly, because she knew some of the trials her mother had while raising her alone.
Hilda's grandparents had died and Hilda's mother had offered no support. Hilda remembered everything her mother taught her, the correct behavior, when to act reserved or when to take the lead. She remembered her mother laboring to help her understand math and grammar. She remembered making the swim team and seeing the joy in her mother's face. Her mother had always been there for her. And yet, her father's absence had not gone unnoticed. Hilda prayed she could meet him in heaven. She imagined him watching over her and her mother. The latter was the only trace of him she had, and she didn't even know his name.
Thankfully, Aaron didn't seem concerned with his father's absence. He never asked, so she never offered an explanation. But in the back of her mind, she always knew the time would come when she would have to tell Aaron the truth.
Chapter 22
"It was as if your heart belonged to someone else." Kiera sat facing Nathan.
The call came just as Nathan set out to his car to meet Hilda. When he saw Kiera's number, he answered immediately. With his life turning upside down since heading off to Guatemala, Nathan had forgotten to call Kiera.
"I don't know how you could have felt that way, I gave as much time to you as possible."
They sat in Nathan's car.
Kiera signed. "Don't you see? That was it, everything seemed calculated so that I might fit into your world. It made me feel as if I was merely convenient."
Nathan's could have spoken, would have said something in protest, had his mind not wandered to the man who he was when they dated. Before their dates, he maintained a list of possible restaurants, locations, events, and places they could meet. He had a list of topics to discuss, a list of her interests he had to make sure not to forget to ask about. He adjusted the duration of time spent with her depending on how much time he could spend away from his latest project, or according to how much time there was between meetings.
"I couldn't see past myself Kiera. That was it. That's what it has always been. Even with my faith restored, I find it hard to truly be with someone."
"What do you mean, Nathan?" They stared at each other for a moment. Kiera seemed to weigh Nathan in her mind. He saw acceptance in her eyes. Had she accepted his emotional detachment?
Nathan began to tell her about Hilda. He told her everything. During his telling of the story, he got more insight into his feelings for Hilda. All along he wanted her in his life, but never knew how to tell her. His ambition had become one success following the next, but his personal life, his relationships with women, he'd been one crash after another. And it all began with Hilda. The first girl who he'd held only to lose. As he sat in his car and described Hilda to Kiera, he had a framework in which he could relate to Hilda without becoming entangled in the moment.
"It sounds like she was the one for you all along."
"If only it were that easy, but she has a life she's comfortable with, a life for her and our son that only she controls."
"At this point I feel you have to do what's best for your son. For now, that should be your main concern." As she studied the somber look on Nathan's face, Keira smiled. "And try and take this lightly, not everything has to be planned and organized. Have faith, God will see to it that everything is set right." Kiera reached out and patted Nathan on the should, and she smiled.
When she left Nathan sat in his car, slightly stunned. He was surprised that two years after returning to Christ he had been unable to accept what he could not change and rely on faith.
Leaving his car in the parking lot, Nathan wa
lked up the sidewalk to the diner. People walked past either side of him but he paid them only enough attention to avoid colliding with them.
He looked up to see her. His heart rate spiked. Hilda sat outside of the diner, a book out in front of her. The watery daylight had left everything sun drenched, and Nathan almost gasped at how breathtaking Hilda looked. With her bun hairstyle, a long, checked green and black pencil skirt and a black blazer, Nathan recognized her attempt to remain reserved, but at Nathan could not ignore her natural beauty. In the past he had lived to see her long red hair plunge over her shoulders and down her back, but now her cherry red cheeks captivated him. Her wasp-waist had been replaced by a fuller figure, but her form now expressed her motherhood, and he wished he could still hold her. She looked glowingly beautiful, so much so that he almost put raised his hand to cover his eyes, unaccustomed to her beauty.
Nathan squeezed his eyes shut and shook the thought from his mind. She was not his woman, not his wife. He inhaled deeply and stepped forward. He was going to hurt her. You don't hurt the ones you love.
"I'm sorry, Hilda." Following Nathan's eyes she stared down and saw a faded parchment paper. Lifting a hand to her beating heart she felt a stab.
"Nathan. What – the letter. You kept it?" Hilda hated the catch in her voice. She reached out with a numb hand and touched it.
"Yes." Nathan's voice was heavy.
Hilda caressed the letter that brought back the memory of countless hours where she curled herself up to sleep with it after the words from her father brought her comfort. Nathan placed his hand over Hilda's.
She met his eyes. The copper mixed with honey seemed burdened with a blackness that made him restless. When feeling was recovered in her hand, it returned with an icy trickle up her arm.
"What's the matter, Nathan?" Hilda pulled her hand away.
"He's alive, Hilda." Nathan's face was edged with seriousness.
"What?" A dryness in her throat made her want to cough, as a twisting in her stomach unsettled her. The world around Hilda stirred with unease. She placed shaky finger tips on the letter, then closed her eyes and slowly pushed it to Nathan.Nathan began to tell her how years ago when she left, he got a P.I to search for her, and in doing so had found evidence that her father was, in fact, alive. Nathan sent him a message years ago to speak to him.
"He contacted me a few days ago to say he wants to--”
Hilda threw her hand up. "Is this true?" Hilda's voice was steady. But her shoulders shook, her small palm that she pushed toward Nathan vibrated and she fought the urge to stand.
"What do you mean? Your father's alive and he wants to contact you."
"Okay. You know, my lunch will soon be over, so it's best you leave, Nathan." Hilda could feel her eyelashes grow wet.
"Well, okay. I was hoping..." Hilda heard the ache in Nathan's voice. She said goodbye and fumbled to put her book back into her bag, then, defying the wish to run, she walked away at a brisk pace, knowing full-well that looking back would have showed Nathan how deeply the news of her father being alive had shocked her.
Chapter 23
Hilda sat at her desk and with her headset on. This was the third time she had to rewind the tape before she understood what the doctor had said. Each breath became a herculean effort, as if an invisible force pressed on her chest. Somehow she had gone through the day on autopilot.
Walking out of the building after work, Hilda's legs were stiff and she chose every step carefully to avoid a misstep. She felt that if she fell now, she'd never get up. Everything she felt she knew seemed to be a lie.
Hilda spotted Nathan in his car by the sidewalk. The three o'clock sunshine bore down on her.
"Please. We can talk on the way to picking up Aaron." Nathan's eyes pleaded with her.
Hilda got into the car.
"Did you throw it away?"
"The letter? No. Why?"
"He lied to me. Mother lied."
"Hilda. I thought this would be too much for you."
"You shouldn't have interfered with my life." A gust of anger seemed to blow into Hilda's chest.
"I'm sorry." Nathan said.
Hilda's eyes flitted to the rear-view mirror showing Nathan's downtrodden expression.
"Okay. What should I do?"
In Hilda's periphery Nathan sat still and stared ahead.
"He is still alive. You've had a false story, a lie, in your head about your childhood for most of your life. You need closure."
Hilda knew Nathan was right, she needed to know the truth.
Hilda hugged Aaron long and securely, cocooning him in her arms, holding him and praying to God to keep him from the worries and pains she had as a child.
Aaron had just finished kindergarten, and as soon as they saw each other, his face lit-up in that joyful smile and he bounced with energy as he ran to her.
"Hi Hilda."
Hilda lifted her head to see, Rose. She was Aaron's kindergarten teacher and she always spoke approvingly of Aaron's performance, behavior, and his personality. Rose said Aaron's habit to say grace before every meal and his kindness towards others were truly Christian, something she saw less and less during her thirty-five years of teaching.
"Hi Rose. How has he been today?" Hilda turned to Aaron. "Have you been good for Rose?" Hilda Eskimo kissed Aaron.
"He was perfect, Hilda. I just wanted to say that Aaron had a visitor today."
Hilda wrinkled her forehead in confusion.
"As a matter of fact, she is still here." Rose stepped aside. Behind her was Hilda's mother.
Aaron slipped from Hilda's hand. "Nathan," he shouted and ran behind her. Hilda turned away from her mother to look back at Aaron. Nathan fell to one knee and embraced his son. Hilda saw a blithe disregard for anything that wasn't Aaron in her eyes. And suddenly, she realized her fear. Nathan wanted Aaron and not her.
"Hilda Borja. We need to talk." The fear Hilda felt from her mother's floating words announced itself inside the core of Hilda's very being.
"That's something we can agree on." Hilda stood and pursed her lips detecting a spike of anger in her voice before she tamped it down. She didn't want to fight with her mother. Not again.
"I'm sorry."
"Mother."
"I treated you like dirt for so long. For my mistakes, human mistakes, I'm sorry."
For years as a child and young girl, when her mother blamed her for failures or mistakes, she learned about forgiveness, and though she told herself that she forgave her mother, that her mother was just human, with human flaws and imperfections, she longed for a equal treatment and understanding. It never came.
"I've always wanted to make you happy. I never wanted to disappoint you." Hilda said gravely she lifted her shoulders, then allowed them to fall. As the words left her mouth, her lips trembled.
Hilda's mother nodded. "Perhaps there is somewhere we can talk?"
During the ride to Tuscaloosa lake, Nathan and Aaron did most of the talking.
“Nathan, did mommy tell you how fast I run?"
"No, your ma didn't tell me. How fast can you run?"
"Um, very, very fast. Even Uncle Scott can't catch me."
"Well, uncle Scott can never be as quick as you."
Hilda sat in silence. Her thoughts swung between revealing to her mother that she knew her father was alive and just allowing the wound she caused between her and her mother time to heal before she brought up the topic.
As they left the car, Nathan and Aaron ran aheadin a foot race that Aaron appeared to be winning.
"Who is he?" Hilda's mother followed them with her gaze. "I feel I've met him somewhere."
"Aaron's father." Hilda couldn't look at her mother as she said the words. She waited for the silence to draw out.
Then Hilda's mother spoke. "From what I see, when Aaron grows up, he'll be a handsome man like his father." She smiled.
Hilda glanced at her mother, catching a glimpse of her smile, and it melted Hilda's heart, creating a warm fl
ow of joy inside her. Her mother's apparent approval of Nathan set her at ease, and their stroll to the reservoir become more leisurely. Hilda wondered why it had mattered whether her mother approved of Nathan if she was going to disregard him in the end?
Nathan carried Aaron on his shoulders towards two men who held fishing rods. Hilda couldn't believe how easily Aaron and Nathan bonded. Did Aaron's need for a father mean she had to ignore her fears and doubts about Nathan being a part of their lives? Hilda wondered.
Taking the thoughts from Hilda's mind, her mother said, "so are you going to let him back into your life?"
Hilda started at hearing the words. "I don't know if I can take the risk." Hilda said.
"And Aaron doesn't know that Nathan is his father?"
"No. Not yet."
"Well, are you going to tell him?"
"I really don't know, Mother."
"I remember you always gave people second chances. You used to stay around that group of girls when you were all apart of the student council. And they used to pick on you. You always helped them, even when they were cruel to you." Hilda's mother stopped by a large rock. "That was pretty nice of you."
Hilda watched her mother lean against a rock and cross her ankles, while the water of the nearby stream rolled by in mini-wavelets that stretched to a mesmerizing flow. Hilda breathed in the fresh air.
"It was more out of weakness." Hilda looked at her mother's ankle.
"Nonsense, Hilda. You have always had that type of strength, to respond with kindness."
"Nathan is different."
"How so?"
"He never hurt me directly. I just knew we were going in two different directions. We wanted two different lives. He made it clear that he wanted more than I could give."
"But look, Hilda," her mother pointed to Nathan and Aaron who stood by the lake, "you gave him a son."
"But maybe that's not enough. I never seemed to be good enough. Nothing was good enough."
"And that's why you left him?"
Hilda nodded.