Love Me, Love Me Not (Incongruent Figures #1)

by S. M. Koz

  “No.”

  “Worst of all is I’ve made you question my love for you. I’ve never stopped loving you, but if you felt that way, then I completely failed as a parent.”

  I raise my head to meet his eyes.

  “I love you,” he repeats.

  “What did you think I’d think with the way you were treating me?”

  “I don’t know,” he replies, rubbing his forehead. “I guess I thought you’d be more careful with things in the future if you knew how upset I was.” He lowers his hand and takes a breath before adding, “And you’d take your role as a father more seriously.”

  His words are like a slap to the face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Children need their fathers, or at least male role models. I don’t get the sense you plan on being there for your baby. It disappoints me.”

  Shit. All along, I thought he was disappointed because I’m having a baby when he’s actually disappointed because I’m not stepping up enough? But how can I do that? “I … I don’t know how I could do it with school and football. You don’t want me to give those up, do you?”

  “No, of course not. I’m not saying it will be easy, but I’d like to see you tackle parenting with the same drive and passion you use to tackle everything else. You’d figure out a way to make it work. I know you would.”

  I glance out the window as I consider his words. I’ve recognized all along I’m selfish. If Hailey hadn’t been around, I would’ve spent more time discussing abortion with Michelle. I felt like the fact that I didn’t do that and I’m willing to pay child support was enough, but maybe it’s not. Should I be doing more?

  I don’t want to be with Michelle, but maybe I could think about some sort of joint custody thing on weekends or school breaks. Of course, then I’d be changing diapers and burping and whatever the hell else you do with babies. “I don’t know how to be a dad,” I mumble.

  “No one does before their first kid.”

  “I might need help.”

  “You know your mother and I will always be there for you.”

  I nod and look back at him. He gives me a hint of his normal smile.

  “I’ll think about it,” I say, still unsure of how this could all work.

  “Good. The last thing I need to say is, and I’m not proud of this, but I think I may have seen you as an extension of myself. I felt like a failure because of this, because I didn’t teach you the right thing to do, and I may have been punishing myself for what happened by inadvertently destroying our relationship. You’d think I would’ve had more insight into my own behavior given what I do every day. Luckily, between your outburst last night and your mother finally letting me have it, I’ve come to my senses. I’m really sorry, Brad. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  Finally. I blow out a breath I feel like I’ve been holding since the night in the kitchen when I told him. I don’t completely understand how his behavior toward me could be him punishing himself, but it doesn’t matter anyway. He’s apologized. We’ll finally be able to return to normal.

  “You did teach me the right thing to do,” I reply with a sigh. “I knew better. I don’t know why I let Michelle convince me we were fine. I actually wanted to go buy condoms, but she told me not to.”

  He holds up his hands, stopping me. “You are the most responsible kid I know. You made a mistake. It happens. You don’t need me reminding you every single minute of the day about your one mistake. I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life and I certainly don’t need others to point those out. I remember them like they happened yesterday, just as you do yours, I’m sure.”

  Like he’s ever made a mistake. He holds me to such perfection because he holds himself to such high standards. “You’ve never made a major mistake,” I grumble. That’s something he’ll always have on me.

  “Boy have I got you fooled.”

  My head snaps up. “Name one mistake.”

  “Just one?”

  “Yeah.”

  He lifts his leg, crossing his right ankle over his left knee. “I misdiagnosed a patient during fellowship. Thought he was fine to be discharged. Instead, he went home and killed his girlfriend and her three-year-old daughter.”

  “Oh.” My heart drops. I’ve never heard this story before. How horrible. I don’t know how he can stand to even think about that. His actions cost two people their lives. I wouldn’t be able to function if it were me.

  He nods and stands. “By comparison, your mistake is nothing. I need to keep things in perspective. I’m sorry.”

  “I like Hailey,” I say, standing next to him. If we’re back to our open and honest relationship, we might as well deal with this one, too.

  “I know.”

  “Are you still against us dating until May?”

  He takes a deep breath and then sighs. “Yes. I talked to Sherry. There’s no official rule about Hailey dating you, but she was concerned about what that type of relationship might do to her. She hasn’t had a normal family life and this is supposed to be that for her. Dating her foster brother is not normal. Of course, she also said Hailey has dramatically improved in the time she’s been with us—better grades, a long-term stable placement, looking healthier, getting good reports from her therapist, planning for the future—so we should continue doing whatever we’re doing.”

  “Whatever we’re doing?”

  “That’s what she said.” He opens a drawer, grabs a rectangular box, and says, “Don’t mess up.” He tosses the box to me. It’s condoms. He’s basically giving us permission without saying the words. Kind of like Sherry did with him.

  “Dad, I’m serious. I … we don’t need these.”

  “Keep them for when you do.”

  “They’ll be expired by then.”

  ‘’Good.”

  I put my arm around his shoulder and say, “So, do you want to bunk with Mom and Hailey can move in here?”

  “Don’t press your luck, son. Let’s grab breakfast.”

  As we’re walking through the hallway, he asks, “Dime-store shrink? Really?”

  “Sorry,” I say with a laugh. Obviously, I don’t really think that. He’s a renowned psychiatrist who’s published numerous papers and speaks at conferences every year. “Out of everything I said, that one bothered you?”

  “The others are all true.”

  We get to the stairwell and stop. “You’re not a shitty dad.”

  “I have been lately.”

  “I forgive you,” I say, hugging him. I can’t describe the sense of relief I get from him hugging me in return. My dad is back.

  Chapter 31

  HAILEY

  “The dining room is this way,” I say, pulling Brad to the right.

  “We’re going to a different one tonight,” he says, holding his ground.

  “Why?”

  “We’re celebrating.”

  “Celebrating what?”

  “Things finally coming together. Dad forgiving me. My parents basically looking the other way so we can date. It’s been a good day.”

  I can’t disagree there. After last night’s mess, I’m so happy they were able to work through things. Plus, his parents have decided unofficially to let us date. It will be much better not having to sneak around all the time.

  “Right this way, sir, ma’am,” a guy in a tux says when we approach the restaurant. Compared to the dining room from last night, this place looks plain. The entrance is black tile or marble with two potted plants on either side of the door. That’s it. No bright colors or fancy glasswork.

  My opinion, however, changes the moment we step through the door. It’s an understated elegance with dark wood trim and accents in deep mahogany and gold. A piano sits in the middle of the room, and a woman in a strapless gown the color of a stormy sky plays a slow song. We follow the man to a small candlelit table in the corner where thick drapes frame the window. The man pulls a chair out for me and places my napkin on my lap when I s
it down. “Are you celebrating anything special tonight?” he asks.

  “Yes, freedom,” Brad replies.

  I have to give the man credit, he doesn’t even flinch at Brad’s vague response. He must be used to things like this.

  “Would you like to start with some wine or champagne to help you celebrate?” he asks.

  “Yes, I believe we would,” Brad replies, not bothering to mention we’re both underage. “Champagne, please.”

  One of the waiters—we have two—brings us our menus, water, and a basket with at least four different kinds of bread. While I read the menu, I feel Brad’s foot slide up against mine under the table. I glance up and smile, but he’s studying his menu.

  “We get a seven-course meal,” he says.

  “I can’t possibly eat that much food.”

  “Just taste everything.”

  “That’s wasteful.”

  “We’re on a cruise,” he says, looking up. “The whole thing is wasteful. You need to get over that mentality if you want to have any fun.”

  I scowl in his direction, but he shrugs. “If it makes you feel any better, passengers from cruise ships sustain many of the ports we visit. So, yes, we may be wasting food, but we’ll also be supporting the lovely people of Jamaica and Honduras later this week.”

  “So, we’re not totally horrible people?”

  “Nope.”

  “So, I should taste the shrimp cocktail, lobster bisque, caprese salad.” I flip the page and run my hand down the options for the other courses and continue, “Mango sorbet, filet mignon, cheese platter, and chocolate soufflé?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You realize this much food could have lasted me and my mom at least two weeks, right?”

  “That’s sad.”

  “Yes,” I agree, sorry I even mentioned it. We’ve had enough negative thoughts on this trip already. It’s time to be positive, so I will enjoy this lovely dinner without any more complaining. Brad wanted to bring me here on a nice date to celebrate, so I will keep my mouth shut. Except for one thing. “There are no prices listed. Is this restaurant free like the others?”

  “No,” he says, snagging a breadstick from the basket. “It’s a specialty restaurant, so I’ll have to pay a little. But it’s a fixed price. Get whatever you want.” He takes a bite and smiles at me.

  “Why are you paying when we could get free food?”

  His smile disappears. “Why are you being so difficult?”

  “I don’t want you to waste your money. You have a baby to think about.”

  “A hundred bucks isn’t going to break me.”

  “A hundred bucks?!” I whisper-yell. “You are not paying that much for dinner when we can get it free someplace else.” I push back the chair and start to stand, but he’s up before me and pushing me back in.

  “You said I could buy you things when we started dating,” he whispers into my ear. “I want to buy you a nice, romantic dinner tonight.”

  “I agreed you could buy me useful, cheap things. Not expensive, unnecessary dinners.”

  “I don’t remember that distinction.”

  “Brad—“

  “Hailey.”

  Just then, the guy in the tux returns with a bottle of champagne. “Is there a problem?” he asks, looking at Brad standing next to me.

  “No,” Brad replies, going back to his own seat.

  The man pops the cork and pours the bubbly into two glasses. Brad grabs one and holds it up to me. “Cheers,” he says with a smile.

  I glare at him until the man in the tux leaves.

  “Come on, Hailey,” Brad says, lowering his glass. “This meal would cost four hundred dollars on land. It’s a fraction of that here.”

  “We can get free food in any one of like twenty restaurants on board.”

  “They won’t be nearly as good as this.”

  “How do you know? You’ve eaten here before?”

  He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Not here, specifically, but similar restaurants on other boats.”

  “You have a habit of wasting money?”

  “No, my parents usually pay, but even so, I don’t think it’s a waste. It’s exceptional food. You pay a little more to get a better meal. By the end of the week, you’ll be sick of all the buffets and begging me to bring you back here.”

  “Not likely.”

  He leans forward on his elbows and his voice drops. “Are we seriously going to fight tonight? After the fight I’ve already had with Dad? After months of wanting exactly this?”

  Before I can respond, the waiter returns. “Have you decided what you’d like to try this evening?”

  “Yes,” Brad replies. “She’ll have …” He then goes on to list everything I said earlier. I have no idea how he even remembers all of it. And now I wish I had paid more attention to what I was saying. I just selected a random item in each section without much thought.

  “And for you sir?”

  He places his order, hands his menu to the waiter, and then sits back in his chair with a satisfied grin as the waiter moves to another table. “We can’t leave now. We’ve already ordered.”

  “So, you’re just going to steamroll right over me whenever we have an argument?”

  “What the hell, Hailey?” he says, throwing his arms up in the air. “What are you doing? Can’t you just enjoy this as the nice romantic gesture it is and save the argument for tomorrow? Or better yet, when we get back home? Let’s not ruin what could be an awesome vacation for us. There’s already been enough fighting.”

  I stare at him, not sure how to answer. I do feel bad fighting with him after the Gil thing.

  “I get that we come from different worlds,” he continues. “I see that you’re uncomfortable in my world. I get it and I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to figure out a way to make this work.”

  “Level of romance does not equal amount of money spent,” I mumble, spinning the breadbasket with my finger.

  “Duly noted.”

  I sigh because he’s right. What’s done is done. It is a sweet gesture on his part, even if it’s over the top. There’s nothing I can do now, so I might as well enjoy it. “I’ll stop arguing on one condition,” I say.

  “Yes?”

  “Your next five romantic gestures don’t cost you anything.”

  “Deal.”

  That was too easy. “I should have gone for ten,” I say with a smile.

  “Too late now.”

  He grabs my hand across the table and squeezes, confirming I made the right decision. I’m on a boat in the middle of the ocean with Brad, seated at the nicest restaurant I’ll ever visit. Plus, his parents have kind of given us their blessing. I need to enjoy the moment for what it is.

  *****

  “Good morning,” Brad says when I open the door. His hair is sticking out in all directions and he’s wearing athletic shorts and a t-shirt. He looks like he just woke up, much like me, except he’s holding a tray piled with an assortment of breakfast foods—bagels, eggs, bacon, cereal, French toast, pastries, orange juice, yogurt, and more.

  “What’s all this?” I ask, stepping aside.

  “Breakfast in bed. Free romantic gesture number one.” He kisses me, carries the tray inside, and then looks at the two beds. Gigi’s is already made while mine looks like I just rolled out of it a minute ago. That could be because I did.

  “This yours?” he asks, eyeing the rumpled sheets.

  I nod and then he lowers the tray and his body to my bed.

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “Showering,” I answer, sitting down next to him so our backs are against the headboard. “I hope this isn’t all for me.”

  “I thought we could share.”

  I take a sip of orange juice and then nibble on a chocolate croissant. “This is really sweet of you.”

  While he’s piling eggs and bacon on a bagel, he says, “And it didn’t cost me a dime.”

  “Good.”

  He takes a bi
te and then points out the window. We docked in Jamaica sometime in the middle of the night. It’s green and lush and totally what I would expect from a tropical island.

  “What do you think?” he asks.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Did you decide on an excursion?”

  I nod and swallow more croissant. “I think I want to go to that waterfall you described last night during dinner.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Unless you want to do something you haven’t done before?”

  “Nope. I’m looking forward to seeing you in your bikini as you climb the rocks.”

  “You’ll be disappointed then. I didn’t bring a bikini.”

  He lowers his quickly made breakfast sandwich. “Seriously? You came to the Caribbean without a bikini?”

  “It’s a nice one-piece suit your Mom bought for me.”

  “Can I buy you a bikini?”

  “No.”

  Just then, Gigi exits the bathroom in khaki capris and a pink blousy top with neatly styled hair and make-up. She was only in there for like twenty minutes. I’ll never understand how she’s able to get ready so fast.

  “Why didn’t you get her a bikini?” Brad complains.

  She points her finger at him. “I knew you’d enjoy it too much. Where are y’all going today?”

  “Dunn’s River Falls. You and Dad?”

  “The beach. That looks good,” she says, eyeing our breakfast.

  Brad hands her a mug of coffee and a yogurt cup. “I got these for you.”

  “That’s why you’re my favorite son.”

  “I’m your only son.”

  She smiles and says, “To thank you, I’ll take these over to Dad’s room.” She knocks on the adjoining door and then disappears inside, leaving us alone.

  “Do we need to buy tickets for the falls?”

  “Yeah. I’ll do it.”

  He picks up the phone, presses a button, and then talks to someone on the other line. While he’s making arrangements, I walk outside onto the balcony. The blast of sunny, warm air is refreshing. It feels like summer, but it’s December. When I get older, I may need to think about moving to the Caribbean.