by Jana Aston
Nearby a couple of kids screech, playing tag as they run along beside their mother, pushing a stroller with another kid.
I head towards the cafe on the north end of the park, but I don’t stop. Love Park is just across the street. The place Sawyer and I had our first date, outside at the Christmas Village. The Christmas setup is long gone, of course. But it doesn’t stop me from walking the park and remembering every detail of that first date, complete with a blush remembering how it ended.
Signs indicate the park will be closing soon for renovations and I wonder what will become of the famous Love sculpture that the park is unofficially named for during the renovation. I walk in the direction of the sculpture, jockeying for space amongst tourists and locals alike taking selfies with the sign behind them. Sawyer and I took one too. It’s the lock screen picture on his phone.
He’s mine.
I’m getting him back.
I cross John F Kennedy Boulevard heading back toward the residential tower at the Ritz-Carlton. I’m just gonna knock on his door. I’ll go in, I’ll take the elevator up and knock on his door. And if he doesn’t answer I’m going to let myself in. I’ll sit on his couch and wait until he comes home, however long I have to. I will make him tell me what the hell is going on. He’ll admit that he’s a jerk, we’ll have makeup sex and this whole stupid breakup will be over.
Easy.
I walk down 15th Street until I reach the crosswalk at Market Street, then cross over to the Dilworth Park side. I can cut back through the park on my way to the Ritz-Carlton. I’m doing just that when I spot the man himself.
He’s standing at the north edge of the large rectangle of lawn, one foot propped on the curb that separates the lawn from the concrete that covers the rest of Dilworth Park. His hands are in his pockets, elbows bent at an easy angle. He doesn’t appear to be watching anything, just standing there. So weird. My steps falter. I’m unprepared to confront him here, outside. So I stop and watch him for a moment, still confused about what he’s doing.
He takes one hand out of his pocket and rubs at his forehead, his face tense, like he might have a headache. Oh my God. Maybe he’s sick. He was rubbing at his forehead on his birthday too. And in his office, when he broke up with me. He’s probably really sick and he didn’t want to put me through that. Idiot. I’d walk through anything with him.
Then a petite blonde woman a few years older than me walks towards him. She’s in jeans and boots, flat with cute laces. Her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, and she’s zipped up in a light winter jacket. He sees her and his face clears, a wide smile replacing the worry that was there a moment ago.
Fucking hell.
Forty-Eight
My stomach churns, the coffee-and-potato-chip combination doing nothing to help me at the moment. My eyes are glued to the scene, and I momentarily forget that I’m standing in plain sight watching this unfold, not even considering a place to hide. Not that there is one. There’s nothing but concrete, open lawn, a half-dismantled ice rink and a couple of entrances to the subway system covering the entire area.
So I stand rooted to the spot I’m in, just staring.
Which allows me to clearly see a small brown-haired boy dash past the blonde and throw himself at Sawyer. And because I’m so lucky, it gives me a direct view of Sawyer catching the boy and swinging him up in his arms, precisely as the traffic lulls, letting me hear the boy as clearly as if I were sitting in a cinema with state-of-the-art surround sound.
“Daddy!”
Don’t worry. My luck holds out. Because I get a glimpse of Sawyer’s face too. Of the happiness, reverence and devotion spelled out across his features, clear as day.
I’m not confused.
This isn’t a joke.
That’s his kid.
His walking, talking kid. A person. A child I’ve never heard a single reference to.
The blonde catches up and leans in, ruffling the kid’s hair. The movement causes Sawyer’s eyes to turn in my direction, landing on me. It jabs my stomach like a professional blow.
I whirl around, heading back to the crosswalk, but the light is green and cars are whizzing past. I’m trapped on this side of the street, at least for another couple minutes, which is a lifetime too long. I run down the stairs instead, the stairs leading to the subway, enclosed by a fancy glass ski-slope-looking structure from the street. I grab a handrail as I race down the steps. I probably need another twenty steps before I can disappear from view. Focus. One foot in front of the other.
“Everly!”
Oh, he wants to talk now? Yeah, no.
I hit the bottom step and freeze, unsure which way to turn. I’ve never actually used the Philadelphia subway system before. I quickly figure out the flow of pedestrian traffic though, and fall in line, blindly following the people in front of me. Until we reach a turnstile and I realize I don’t have a transportation card or whatever one needs to swipe to make the gate lift and grant me escape. I stop dead, causing the person behind me to knock into me with an, “Oof.”
I mutter an apology and move to the side and I have a full three seconds of hope that I’ve ditched Sawyer before he’s there, his hand on my arm.
I throw up on his shoes.
He holds my hair, a perfect gentleman, while I throw up everything that I’ve eaten today on his stupid shoes.
“Now you’ve ruined Pringles for me too. I hate you!” I push away from him, wiping my mouth with my sleeve, and walk back to the stairs. I go up a lot slower than I went down. Arms crossed over my chest, chin down. He’s right behind me. I know he’s there but he’s quiet, just following me.
I get back to ground level and look around. The blonde and the little boy are gone.
“Where’d they go?” I circle back to him in a flurry. “They were just here, I saw them.”
Wait. Maybe I’m just crazy. Like I’m having a mental break or something. I probably need a head CT.
“I sent them home, back to my place.”
No, not crazy. He’s a dick.
“Everly, please,” he says, bringing my attention to his face. “I’m sorry.”
His face, that’s the Sawyer I know. Sincere. Honest.
“What in the hell is going on?” I ask him, my eyes darting back and forth across his face.
“Why are you here?”
“Why am I here? Fuck you, Sawyer.” I shove a finger in his chest. “Why is that kid calling you Daddy? Who is that woman? You can’t be married. Finn wouldn’t have been happy for us when we started dating if you already had a wife. My brother would have mentioned it for sure. Unless you’ve been hiding her in another city. Oh, my God. Do you have a secret family, Sawyer? Or did you already replace me with a new girlfriend? With a kid who calls you Daddy? How long has this been going on?”
“Okay. Slow down, breathe.” He nods to the cafe across the park. “Let’s sit.”
I shake my head.
“I didn’t want you to see that. Him. I…” He trails off. “You can’t spy on my kid, Everly.”
His kid. I swallow the lump in my throat and fight to keep my knees steady.
“Fine. Let’s sit.”
We walk over to the cafe in silence, Sawyer opening the door for me while I grab a table in the corner and sit. He brings a tray of drinks over a few minutes later, setting it down on the table between us. Bottled water, hot tea, coffee, hot chocolate. I take a swig of water then pull the tea cup between my fingers.
“I wasn’t spying on your kid. I didn’t even know he existed.”
“Neither did I, until last week.”
“The same time you turned into a royal dick.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, a small smile on his face. “About that time.”
“What’s his name?”
“Jake.” A smile spreads across his face when he says it.
“How old is he?”
“Four.” He says it softly, as if it pains him.
I take that in. He’s missed out on four years with
his son.
“Is that his mother?”
“No.” Sawyer scoffs. “His nanny.”
“So when do I get to meet him?”
“Meet him?” Sawyer’s eyebrows are raised, his face questioning. “I broke up with you.”
“You didn’t mean it.” I say it confidently, then falter. “Unless you don’t think I’m good enough for him? Is that why you ended things with me so abruptly?”
He pauses, and I die a little bit inside.
“Maybe in a few years,” he begins before trailing off.
“I’m sorry. Did you just suggest we get back together in a few years?” I’d be surprised if my eyebrows were still on my face, I’ve raised them so high in disbelief.
“This isn’t what you want. You don’t want a child right now. You’ve said it enough times. And this kid…” He rubs at his forehead in a gesture I’m beginning to recognize as stress. “It’s messy, Everly.”
“And I don’t do messy,” I say, filling in the blanks.
“You’re young, Everly. You were still a teenager when Jake was born. You deserve to have the life you want, the one you’ve imagined for yourself.”
“The one where I don’t have kids for another five to seven years? And I don’t have to deal with exes, and custody sharing, and coordinating his kids and our kids for weekends and holidays and summer vacations?”
He nods.
“I don’t want a baby right now, Sawyer.” I shake my head. “I don’t. But Jake isn’t a baby, and hell, even if he was, I’d love him. Because he’s yours.”
“It can’t be that simple. You have a vision for your life, and you didn’t sign up for this.”
“I didn’t sign on for you either, remember? I thought I was in love with your brother, but I was wrong. And it didn’t stop you, because you were right, Sawyer. You were right about us.”
“I love you, but I don’t know if it’s enough.”
“It’s enough, and I can edit.”
“You can edit?” He’s smiling now.
“I can edit the vision I had for my future, for our future. Just as long as you’re in it.”
“I’m going to have Jake full time. It’s not a weekend thing. His mother…” He stops, rubs his forehead. “His mother is in prison. He’ll be a teenager before she’s out. But I have no idea what the future looks like. She might want back into his life at that point. He might want to see her. It’ll be messy, Everly. “
“Is he okay?”
“I don’t think he even misses her.” Sawyer shakes his head in disbelief. “He barely remembers her as far as I can tell.”
“How long has she been—” I pause, not sure how to word it. “Gone?”
“Ten months,” he says, drumming his fingers on the table. “He’s been living with one of his nannies. Do you really think you want this? Both of us? Because Jake has to be my priority. I have a lot of time to make up for. And…” He blows out a breath. “I don’t think he was her priority.”
“Give me a chance, Sawyer. Tomorrow we’ll have a date. A family date, the three of us.”
“Okay,” he agrees. He looks doubtful, but he agrees.
Forty-Nine
“I’m going to be a mom!” I announce as I stroll through the door an hour later.
Chloe puts down her pen and turns to me. “So the stalking went well then? You’re back together and pregnant now?” She looks at the clock. “All before five o’clock. Well done.”
“Not pregnant. Sawyer has a son.” I kick off my shoes and pop open a can of Diet Sun Drop before sitting on the edge of my bed, legs crossed.
“Wait, what?” Chloe looks confused. “I thought you were joking.”
“Nope,” I say, swinging my foot. “Oh! Do you know what this means, Chloe?”
“Um, it means a lot of things,” she says, concern marring her forehead.
“I get to be a MILF without going through labor.”
“Yeah, no. That wasn’t my first thought.”
“Anyway, we’re going on a date tomorrow. The three of us.” I set my soda down and open my laptop, propped up on my knees.
“So Sawyer and you are back together?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Not exactly.”
“Yes, not exactly?”
“He’s a little hesitant. He doesn’t think I’m into children.” My hands fly over my keyboard as I talk. “But there’s one thing Sawyer Camden doesn’t know about me.”
“What’s that?” Chloe asks, getting up to dig into our snack pile.
“That I, Everly Jensen, am one half of the most popular babysitting duo that Ridgefield, Connecticut ever saw.”
Chloe grins. “We were a good team.”
“The best,” I agree and smile when I find what I’m looking for online, then send Sawyer a text telling him to pick me up tomorrow at 10:45 am.
******
I leave my room at 10:30 the next morning, intending to be outside when Sawyer arrives so he doesn’t have to park the car and get out with Jake. But I find him waiting for me in the lobby instead, a miniature version of himself beside him. I’m pretty sure I ovulate at the sight, which I know is scientifically unlikely as I’m on the birth control pill, but I’m glad I’m not going home with Sawyer today all the same.
They’re standing in Sawyer’s usual spot, near the mail boxes, leaning against the wall with their hands in their pockets in identical poses. Sawyer’s wearing jeans and a grey sweater. Jake’s in jeans and a navy sweater with a child-sized neck tie over that. It’s navy and red striped and makes no sense with his outfit, as he’s not wearing a collared shirt.
“Hi.” I smile at them both as I approach. “I was going to meet you outside so you didn’t have to park.”
Jake shakes his head. “When you pick up your friend who is a girl, you park your car and go inside.” He looks up at Sawyer for confirmation. “Right, Daddy?”
“Right, buddy.” Sawyer nods back, the corners of his eyes creased in amusement. They obviously had a conversation about this when they parked.
“Well, thank you.” I bend down to Jake’s level. I don’t bend over at the waist and loom over him. I hate that. I bend at the knees so our heads are level and extend my hand to him. “I’m Everly.”
He shakes my hand very seriously and tells me his name is Jake. Then Sawyer swings him up in his arms and we head outside.
“What’s with the tie?” I whisper to Sawyer while we walk to the car.
He shakes his head. “Hell if I know. I was wearing a tie when I met him. He asked for one of his own and wears it every day.” We arrive in the parking lot and Sawyer guides me to a Porsche Cayenne and opens the passenger door for me.
“We open car doors! Right, Daddy?” Jake grins at me from Sawyer’s arms and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. He’s so stinking cute.
“Nice SUV.” I wink at Sawyer as I hop up into the vehicle. Sawyer buckles Jake into his seat in the back and then we’re off, arriving fifteen minutes later at the Please Touch Museum. My research tells me this is the place to visit with a kid on a Sunday afternoon in February.
Sawyer buys our tickets and we drop our coats off in the coat check room then head towards the center past the information desk.
“Which do you like better, cars or rockets?” I ask Jake, consulting the paper map we picked up at the door.
“Cars!”
“Off to roadside attractions it is then,” I say and we head left to a series of interactive exhibits where Jake pretends to drive a bus, collect tolls and fill a car with gas. After that we visit the space station exhibit where Jake gets to pretend he’s a space shuttle pilot.
But we quickly find out his favorite exhibit is the ShopRite Supermarket on the lower level. He zips down the play grocery store aisles with his child-sized grocery cart with absolute glee, filling it with food till it spills out the top.
“We can take him to Whole Foods next weekend,” Sawyer comments. “Totally blow his mind.”
I laugh, but
I’m secretly glad he said ‘we.’
We stop for lunch at the museum cafe. Sawyer and I eat burgers while Jake eats half a hot dog and about a dozen cheese-flavored crackers.
“Is that supposed to freak me out?” Sawyer asks me, expression serious. “He only eats half of everything. Maybe I should take him to a doctor?”
I place my hand over his and point out that they give out the same-sized hot dog to every kid and a four-year-old isn’t likely to finish as much of it as an older kid. He nods and relaxes.
We visit the river adventures exhibit after lunch and Jake gets his tie soaked racing sailboats. He wrings it out and then we visit the carousel.
“I want the cat,” he tells me while Sawyer is buying him a ticket.
“I’m not sure there’s a cat on the carousel, buddy.” We’re holding hands watching the animals whiz past from outside a gated area that surrounds it.
“There is. I saw it,” he tells me, brow furrowed in concentration as he looks for it again.
The museum employee operating the ride confirms there is indeed a cat. Forty horses, four cats, and a small assortment of other animals. But Jake is firm on the cat, waving to us on each rotation of the carousel.
“This is fun,” I say, nudging Sawyer with my elbow.
He smiles in return, that dimple flashing. “It’s forever though, Everly. Today is fun, but the reality is he’s with me now. All the time. You and I will never have spontaneous weekend trips and sex on the kitchen counter at noon.”
“Would you dump me if I got pregnant?”
“No,” he says with a long sigh, knowing where I’m going with this.
“It’s not any different to me, Sawyer.”
“But he’s not yours. You can walk away, Everly. I won’t blame you for walking away. But if you’re going to stay, you’ve got to stay. He’s been through enough already.”