VEGAS follows you home

by Sadie Grubor

"Hello?" I answer, feeling lighter than I have in a year.

  "Damon?" Hugh sounds unsure.

  Turning from the bakery kitchen, I go back up the stairs to speak to my brother.

  "Of course it is. Who else would answer my phone?"

  "You don't sound like yourself," he states.

  “Don’t I?” I smile, knowing Alex, and even Olivia, are the reason.

  “No. You actually sound… I don’t know the right word for it.” He pauses. “Let’s just say you aren’t barking hello and using your typical clipped tone.”

  “What can I do for you, Hugh? I’m on vacation, as you know." I follow my teasing words with a laugh.

  "Now you're scaring me. Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

  "Hugh, what's the problem that couldn't wait until my return?"

  "There is a complication with the Proneau Investment," he states, his voice returning to his familiar business tone.

  "What complication?" I move to Olivia's living room where I've set up my laptop.

  Hugh launches into the problems with Proneau. Apparently, the CFO has been accused of embezzlement.

  Growling, I move my laptop to the kitchen island, push the button on my cell to activate the speaker, and begin pacing the length of the room.

  "Is my mother involved?"

  "Not that I know of. I haven't talked to her, but you know she has her spies around the office."

  "Yes, I know. Well, if you get wind that she's meddling, let me know and I'll take care of her." Sitting on a barstool at the island, I bring up my email and start going through the documents Hugh sent.

  "Did you receive the file?" Hugh breaks the short silence.

  "Yes, I'm reviewing your highlights and notes now."

  "So, are you with her?" Nervousness laces Hugh's question.

  I sigh.

  "It's not really any of your business, but yes, I am with my wife."

  "Damon—"

  "Don't," I warn. "I am not up for another lecture."

  "I'm just concerned. Scarlett and I both think—"

  "You've discussed my business with Scarlett?" Annoyance courses through me, washing out the contentment I felt just moments ago. "Why is my personal business a topic of gossip for you two?"

  "It's not like that and you know it. We love and care about you, Damon." Hugh's voice raises a bit with concern. "It wasn't so long ago when you were simply trying to make it to the next day without a breakdown in your temperament. Now…now you're married to a stranger. And you've made it sound like she's your wife by force." He sighs heavily. "You cannot replace Rebecca and DJ with a new wife."

  "Damn it, Hugh!" Grabbing the phone from the counter, I put it to my ear. Anger charges through my body, bringing me to my feet again. "Mind your own fucking business!" Fury seethes out of my every pore.

  "Bullshit, Damon! You've been a mess since losing them. I've only just seen a scratch in the surface of who you used to be before they—"

  "Shut the fuck up and listen to me, because I will only say this once, little brother." Before he can interrupt me, I continue my rant. "I am not trying to replace my son! Nothing could ever replace him or the love I have for him. And as for his poor excuse for a mother, I am definitely not trying to replace her."

  My fingers dig into the skin just above my heart. It's beating rapidly and a vision of DJ fills my mind. Hair the color of mine, eyes a cool blue like his mother’s, and his laugh…God his laugh.

  "The hole they left when I lost them has never gone away, regardless of the head doctors you and our father thrust upon me and all the dates you and my mother attempt to set up. Nothing, except this, makes the throbbing ache ease. They make me better."

  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.

  "They?" Hugh chokes. "Damon, you didn't…I mean, you didn't marry this woman because she has a child, did you?" His frantic questioning flares my defenses back up.

  "No, of course not! I found my son, Hugh. He's my son."

  "What? Damon, where are you? I'm going to come get you."

  He wants to fetch me home and to the asylum we will go.

  Rolling my eyes, I sit back on the stool.

  "I'll be back in a couple weeks. I know you don't completely understand and it's my fault for not explaining. There's no need to collect me or break out the straight jacket," I snort.

  "Damon, please," he begs. "Don't turn me away. I want to help. You need to understand that your son is gone. He died, Damon. This boy isn't DJ."

  Anger boils inside until the flesh on my face tingles from the heat of it.

  "You don't fucking think I know that?! Christ, Hugh, you're not the one who has spent the past years running from memories." I slam my fist onto the counter. "I have! I know DJ is…gone. But Alex is alive and magnificent."

  "Who is Alex, Damon?" Hugh’s voice calms, trying to soothe the crazy by using one of the many tactics the doctors taught my family. This question is designed to show me the difference between real and delusion.

  "He's my son, Hugh. The woman I married gave birth to my biological son," I explain as clear as I can.

  "You…you had an affair?" He coughs. "When did you…how…?"

  I can't help but laugh.

  "I didn't have an affair. More like fate dealing me a second chance to be alive again."

  "What the hell are you talking about?" Defeat weakens his voice. "Just tell me where you are, Damon."

  "I'm with my family." As I answer, the sound of walking catches my attention.

  I glance over my left shoulder with the phone still to my ear as Hugh rambles on about needing an explanation. Olivia is standing in the room looking at me from under her furrowed brow.

  "I need to go." I cut off Hugh's diatribe. "I will call you later after I've looked over the Proneau situation." I hang up on Hugh's protest and slide my phone back onto the counter.

  "We need to talk." She walks stiffly, standing in front of me with her arms defensively crossed over her chest.

  "Alright." I turn around on the stool, facing my body toward her.

  "You need to find somewhere to stay. I can't…I'm not comfortable with you being here."

  Her eyes roam over my face, searching for my reaction. I know she's waiting for my temper to flare, but nothing can kill the happiness brought back to me today by Alex. And while I'm happy and content, there will be no leaving.

  With one brow raised, I purse my lips in feigned contemplation.

  "No." I shake my head.

  "No?" The exasperation is evident in her question.

  Standing, I walk toward her. She backs up until she's next to the chair in the living room. I pass by her, close enough to brush my arm against hers, and sit on the couch. She turns to face me.

  "That's what I said." Sighing, I lean forward, placing my elbows on my knees. "I can only be here for a couple weeks and I want as much time as possible together."

  Relief washes over her face.

  "So, you're leaving in a couple weeks?"

  I don't like the hopefulness of her question.

  "Yes, however, I would like for you and Alex to join me." I raise my hand, stopping her protest. "I want you both to meet my family and see what New York has to offer."

  "No," she answers, giving me a go ahead, argue with me look.

  "No?" My frustration begins running higher, leaking into my words.

  “That’s what I said.” She kicks my words back at me.

  Narrowing my eyes, I sit up straight and frown.

  “You won’t allow me to introduce Alex to his family?”

  She sighs and walks around, slouching into the chair across from me.

  "Damon, I said I would allow you to know Alex. You know I won't go to meet your family. And you should realize I won't allow you to take Alex either."

  Allow me? She won't allow me to introduce my son to his family?!

  I inhale deeply and exhale the large breath, hoping it will quell some of my anger.

  "My family will
meet my son and I will take him to meet them."

  "I want proof you're really his father," she snaps, sitting up straight on the edge of the chair. Her hands grip the arms of the chair so tight, her knuckles turn white.

  "You want a paternity test?" I smirk.

  "Damn straight I do. Like I'll just take your word as fact. We both know you have deceitful tendencies," she sneers.

  I can't keep my laughter at bay.

  "Oh, Olivia, if you think I'm lying and this is the way to rid yourself of me, you are sadly mistaken."

  Her body tenses at my words.

  "Ah, so that's what you're hoping for?" I ask, rhetorically.

  Standing from the couch, I walk to my phone and put it to my ear.

  “What are you doing?” She pushes out of the chair and stands.

  Putting up a finger, I silence her while I wait for my call to be answered.

  “Damon?” His voice is as professional as always.

  “Good afternoon, Father. I need to ask a favor.”

  “Of course, what can I do for you?” He sounds distracted. Maybe I interrupted him during his rounds.

  “Can you call in a favor from a doctor in Pittsburgh? I need a blood test.” My eyes meet Olivia’s anxious, wide eyes.

  "A blood test? Are you okay? Did something happen?" Going into full doctor mode, Dr. Knyght has taken the place of my father.

  "Everything is fine, I assure you. Actually, it’s quite better than fine.” I keep my eyes locked on Olivia’s. “I need a paternity test done. Today would be great, if we can."

  "Damon…" Olivia hisses from her gaped mouth.

  "A, uh, um…a paternity test, you say?" Confusion is quickly replaced by intrigue. "Is there something I should know about?"

  "Well, pending the unnecessary test results, congratulations, you're a grandfather."

  "Damon," his voice now matches the same concern Hugh had.

  "Can you call in the favor for me or not?"

  "Yes, I can, but I think you need to explain."

  "I will, and once she is satisfied with the results, you will meet him as well."

  I raise a challenging brow at her. She purses her lips in anger.

  "You aren't taking him anywhere," she grumbles, her hands going to her hips.

  I grin.

  "Very well. Let me make a couple calls and I'll let you know what I can arrange." My father is still confused, but will be patient for an explanation.

  "Great. Thank you."

  "I will talk with you soon," he replies, accentuating the last word.

  "Sounds good."

  Hanging up from the call, I drop the phone back to the counter.

  "Once you have your proof, because we both know it will be a match, you will both come with me to New York and meet my family."

  "We are not going to New York. I have a business to run." She glares.

  "You have a couple weeks to make arrangements. I'm sure you can leave for a couple of days." I step closer, until she's only an arm's length from me. "Please?"

  "I…" she falters. “This is never going to work. Please, just let us go. We wouldn't even matter if…" She quickly stops, her eyes widening as she bites her bottom lip.

  "Go ahead, say it," I urge, narrowing my eyes.

  "Nevermind." She shakes her head. "I didn't mean to—"

  "You wouldn't matter if they weren't dead, right?" I finish for her. Keeping my anger under control is practically impossible.

  Her eyes, wide as saucers, stay fixed on mine when she gives a short nod.

  "They were already gone," I growl.

  "But if they weren't, then you wouldn't be sitting here right now," she argues. "Alex and I wouldn't matter."

  "You don't know that," I growl. "How do you know anything about my marriage?"

  Her mouth opens, but then snaps shut.

  "Exactly, you don't. You have no idea, so don't presume if they were still here, alive, that I wouldn't be standing exactly in this spot."

  Defeated, she sinks down into the chair, closing her eyes.

  "I know what you're trying to do." I wait for her to look at me again. "You're trying to make me lose interest, but that isn't going to happen. I'll never know for sure how this situation would play out if they were still here, but I'm pretty certain my interest would be just as fierce."

  "We aren't them," she whispers.

  "I don't want you to be them." Dropping to the floor, I kneel before her.

  "You don't realize—"

  "I know you aren't them."

  "I don't think you do." Shaking her head, she continues. "Have you considered talking to someone about this obsession?"

  "I've talked to a lot of people," I answer honestly.

  "About this?" She motions between us.

  "Sort of." I tilt my head. "I discussed this situation with my current doctor. He's well aware of the letter I received and my plans to look into it."

  "It's not healthy, Damon. This isn't healthy," she states, her voice taking on a soothing tone.

  "Did you even consider that you, both of you, are the only thing keeping me sane?"

  Her eyes stare into mine as my admittance registers. Her mouth gapes open, but then closes.

  "After they…died, I had a breakdown. I was distraught and angry."

  "Angry at whom?"

  "Myself, Rebecca, God. You name it, I was angry at it." Rubbing my chest, I try to ease the familiar twinge.

  "It wasn't your fault. It was an accident," she whispers, our eyes still locked.

  "Yes, it was. I wasn't driving, but I should have been." Tears sting the back of my eyes. "I, at least, should have protected DJ."

  "Protected him?" Confusion wrinkles her face.

  "From the accident. It wasn't… they shouldn't have been out. She shouldn't have had him out." Anger begins to burn in my chest, replacing the twinge. Dropping my head, I close my eyes and try to take calming breaths.

  Olivia remains quiet, giving me time to collect myself.

  "We aren't the answer to the guilt you feel," she says a few moments later, breaking the silence.

  I clench my fists and turn my blazing eyes on her.

  "Why can't you understand that you and Alex are not about guilt or replacement?" My voice rises. "The two of you are my sanity in this life I'm left to live. You are my happiness."

  "I don't want that responsibility." Shaking her head, she remains stern against my anger.

  "You don't have to do anything, but be with me. Try." My words taper to desperation.

  "You need to get help. I'm not a remedy or anyone's sanity. Alex and I are not a bandage for your sadness."

  Anger brings me to my feet and I begin to pace.

  "You are not a God damned bandage! You make me better. You and Alex make me feel goodness. And I know you feel the connection between us. It's been obvious since that first night in front of the damn chapel in Vegas that—"

  She jumps to her feet.

  "That I was deliriously drunk and taken with an extremely attractive man! That is all that's obvious."

  At my quick approach, she flinches back. Lifting my hand, I cup her face and pull her to look at me.

  "I would never, ever, hurt you," I whisper against her lips before pressing mine to hers firmly.

  Fire ripples through my body. From my lips to my toes, lust courses in every vein as her body presses to mine. Pulling back, I look down into her face.

  "I know you feel that. You have to." Staring into her eyes, there's a moment when I think she's going to give in.

  My phone breaks the silence, vibrating across the counter.

  "Fuck," I growl, releasing Olivia and retrieving the phone. "Hello," I bark.

  "Well, your mood has soured," my father responds with distaste. "Anyhow, if you can get to UPMC by three today, then you can meet with Dr. Fillman. He'll escort you to the lab and rush the test."

  "How long for the results?" I question my father, but turn to look at Olivia.

  Back in the o
versized chair, she keeps her eyes away from me.

  "I would say about two days, maybe."

  "We can't get it any quicker than—"

  "This isn't a pregnancy test, Damon. This is DNA testing. It takes a little more time." He's clearly annoyed with me now.

  "I understand."

  "Well, Dr. Fillman will draw the blood and saliva samples."

  "Okay."

  "Alright. I expect to hear from you soon with an explanation." He pauses, taking an audible breath. "You should probably tell your mother before—"

  "She already knows."

  He gasps.

  "You…she…but you didn't feel the need to tell me?"

  I don't need the divorced parent hurt feelings right now.

  "Dad, thank you for helping. I appreciate the favor. And Mother knows because she knew before I did."

  "Well, I expect to hear from you."

  "Of course, I promise."

  We say our goodbyes and I look at the time. I turn to Olivia and she finally looks up at me.

  "We need to be at the hospital before three."

  "For the test?" She begins fidgeting.

  "Yes. This is what you wanted."

  "I figured it would take time to get an appointment for—"

  "I have connections, remember?"

  "Unfortunately, I know all too well about your connections, don't I?" she grumbles, but there's a small curve at the corner of her mouth.

  Standing from the chair, she looks at me briefly before walking away.

  I want so badly to go back to the moment before my father's call. But the sound of her feet on the stairs tells me the moment is gone and our conversation is over — for now.

  An hour later, I’m sitting at the island, working on my laptop, when Olivia and Alex enter. Abandoning the email I was typing, I watch Olivia in action.

  She places Alex into his chair before moving about the kitchen. While she searches in a cabinet, I turn to Alex and give a small wave. He smiles and lifts his hand before slamming it down onto his tray.

  “Momma,” he calls out.

  Olivia stops, looks around the cabinet door, and smiles. “Yes, sir?"

  He smacks his tray again.

  "Hold your horses, mister."

  She pulls a jar from the cabinet and twists off the lid as she returns to him. With a small spoon, she scoops a chunky orange food onto his tray.

  Alex sticks his fingers into the paste before shoving them into his mouth and sucking. Carrots. That's what it is. Baby food.