by Miley Maine
I made it inside, but before I could get to a mirror or change my shirt, Ian bounced in front of me. “Momma! What’s wrong? Did you get bitten by a bee?”
“Stung by a bee,” I corrected automatically. “And no, sweetie. I’m fine. I got dirt in my eye and it started watering.”
“You shouldn’t touch it,” he said, little hands on his hips as he lectured me.
“You’re right. I’ve washed it out with water, so now I just need to leave it alone.”
“Where’s James?” he asked, looking around.
“He’s riding the Hulk,” I said.
“I want to see.”
Horses were nothing special to Ian. He loved them, but he saw them all day, every day. They weren’t the novelty for him that they were to other kids, so what he really wanted to see was James.
My throat burned as I thought of the connection they’d already formed in just a short amount of time. How much of that was Ian’s desperation for a father figure, and how much was some kind of recognized kinship? The tears threatened to start up all over again.
I picked him up and went to the front porch, holding him up so he could see James riding in the distance. James had chosen the Hulk, our biggest, most powerful horse. In the far field, we could see the horse galloping.
“He rides fast, Momma.”
“Yep. Too fast for you.”
“It would be fun,” he giggled. I kept thinking he’d get tired of watching, but he didn’t. His eyes stayed glued to James the entire time. And when James brought the Hulk back at a slow trot and took him into the stable, Ian wiggled to be let down. “Wait until he’s done,” I said.
Ian perched himself on the top porch step to wait. As soon as James was close, Ian stood up and said, “I still have my nice clothes on.” Then he held his arms out and spun around to show us.
“Well, now I’m a little dusty,” James said. “But I guess that’s not a problem if I wash my hands.”
“Can we go out, Momma?” Ian grabbed the hem of my shirt. “Please?”
“That’s up to James,” I forced myself to say.
“How about we have a good dinner and then we get some ice cream?” James suggested.
“Yay!” Ian hopped up and down and then spun in a circle.
“Take my car,” I said to James. “His car seat’s in there.”
“Do you know how to buckle yourself up?” he asked Ian, which was a relief to me but wasn’t a surprise. James had always been a stickler for safety and rules.
“Yep,” Ian said.
James looked at me to confirm. “He does,” I said. “But I double-check it.”
“Okay then. Tell your mom bye and let’s go.”
Ian wrapped his spindly little arms around me and gave me a sticky kiss. I was going to have to get used to this. Surely I’d adjust. Millions of people shared their kids with another parent and they were all better off for it, right?
I stood in the driveway, watching them drive off, waving even after they were long gone.
Then I went inside and threw up. After I’d brushed my teeth, I picked up the phone and texted Lacy.
Please come over when you can.
I hadn’t been a great friend lately. Hopefully she wasn’t so fed up with my constant freak outs that she would dump me, too.
Lacy was still in her uniform when she got there. By then, I had a bottle of wine out for us. Thank God, Mary and Walter had gone to play bingo with friends and wouldn’t be home for a few hours.
“What is going on?” she asked.
“James knows.” I poured a glass of chardonnay and handed it to her. There was no reason to explain what exactly he knew. I’m sure it was written all over my face.
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I’m guessing he didn’t take it well?”
“It depends on what you mean by ‘take it well’.” I sniffed. “If you meant, did he deny the possibility of having a child, leave, and tell me I’ll never see him or a dime of child support, then no. That didn’t happen.”
I wiped my face with a napkin. “But if you mean, did he see Ian without a costume, in the light of day, standing near James’s own kindergarten portrait, and then proceed to threaten to take me to court if I don’t let him have the time he wants, then yes.”
Lacy’s mouth was a flat line. “He threatened to take you to court?”
I poured my own glass and we both went to sit in the wooden chairs under the big shade tree. We only had one big tree in the yard, but it gave enough shade to make a real difference in the heat.
“Yes. He is beyond furious. He’s livid. He feels like he got cheated out of having time with Ian as a baby.”
“Well,” Lacy said, then she tipped her wine glass back and took a huge swallow.
“I know. It’s true. He’s right.”
“You didn’t know how it would be if you told him.”
“Right,” I said. “He’d already left. He acted like living here was a death sentence. So why would I think he’d want to be tied here with a baby?”
“You wouldn’t. So he wants a relationship with Ian?”
“Yeah. It’s weird. He never mentioned kids, but he’s good with Ian. They have some kind of natural affinity. And Ian adores him.” I took a big drink of wine. “I’m just hoping Ian’s young enough that he won’t remember that I lied to him.”
“He’ll be fine,” she assured me.
“What if James wants full custody? He’s an FBI agent. He can prove that I kept Ian from him. He actually came back that time when Ian was three months old, and I screamed at him to leave, and his dad backed me up. So, he’s this upstanding citizen—a hero—whose ex lied to him and hid his child while living on the ranch that should belong to him.”
Lacy winced. “I admit that it doesn’t look great,” she said. “I don’t think he’d get full custody. But James is his biological child, and he’s an upstanding citizen. He’s going to get some form of visitation.”
“I don't know what to do.”
“I don’t think that there’s much you can do,” she said. “Other than apologize. That goes a long way with people.”
“I know.” I hid my face behind my glass. “I haven’t done a great job with that so far. I ended up getting mad and saying stuff back to him.”
“Well, you can’t be a doormat.”
“No one’s ever worried that I was a doormat. ”
“Maybe you should talk to a lawyer,” Lacy said. “Try to get some boundaries established.”
“Oh, God. A lawyer? Why? Do you think he’s going to ask for full custody?” I didn’t have the money to file for bankruptcy, much less hire a family lawyer for a custody battle.
“What’s he going to do with full custody? He’s in Houston and he works all the time. You and Ian’s grandparents are here. No judge is going to give him full custody.”
“James can give him things I can’t,” I said. “He can send him to preschool and pay for therapy, and he can live in a neighborhood with friends, and he can take him to the museum and buy him new costumes instead of finding musty ones at the thrift shop…”
Lacy gave my leg a light pinch. “Stop it. You're going down a rabbit hole. I’ve been in juvenile court and family court for work enough to know judges don’t award custody based on which parent has the most money.”
“I hope you’re right, but in those cases the mother didn’t hide the child from the father. I have a high school diploma and a ranch that’s operating in the red—after I took over—and it will look like I tricked his parents into giving it to me. Meanwhile, he looks great on paper. I can’t even stand to think about it.” I pressed my hand over my mouth. “I could throw up right now. Again.”
Lacy moved over to hug me. “Absolutely do not throw up on me.” She rubbed her hand in circles over my back. “Look. There’s not a lot you can do. Just apologize to James. That’s the first step.”
“Thank you for listening,” I said. I leaned into her, needing the closeness of someone who wasn’
t fed up with me. “I know I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems that we haven’t even talked about you lately.”
“I’m fine. Let’s concentrate on your situation right now.”
I rested my head on her shoulder. “Thank you. I owe you one.”
“You want more wine?” she asked.
“No. I better limit myself to one glass. The last thing I need is for James to show up and videotape me drunk and slurring my words. I’m not going to just hand him evidence to prove I’m unfit.”
“I can’t believe he’d do that.”
“You didn’t see his face,” I said.
If the worst-case scenario did happen and James got full custody, I’d move to Houston, too. Maybe then I’d be able to see Ian at school lunches and sports events during the week, too, and not be stuck with just the weekends.
I might be sitting still next to my friend, but my insides were a swirling mess. Until we resolved this, I didn’t see how I would exist in anything other than a permanent state of panic.
20
James
It was after nine pm by the time I got Ian back home. Every time he did something funny, I found myself longing to know what he was like at one, two, and three years old. I wanted to ask Bree for pictures and videos, but I’d have to wait until I wasn’t so angry. I didn’t want to tarnish my first time seeing Ian as a baby and toddler with a haze of fury.
Ian chattered all the way back until he fell asleep between one word and the next. I carried him into the house, where I found Bree sitting alone at the kitchen table. She was sitting there, with no book, no phone, no tablet.
Her eyes looked hollowed out and her cheeks were still red. “You want me to carry him up?” I asked. She may have done something reprehensible and possibly unforgivable, but this was still her baby.
“Please,” she said. Once I laid him on top of his bed, I left to let her take over, closing the door behind me.
It may have been harsh of me to threaten her with legal action. It had been impulsive on my part, something I’d done without thinking, but it was probably just as well. She felt a sense of entitlement where Ian was concerned, like he was hers and hers alone, and it felt like I had to do something extreme to get her attention.
Now that I had her attention, I could stand to be kind.
It sucked that she’d told me she loved me last night. I’d already realized I loved her, and it had been a relief to say it out loud and not just think the words in my head.
How could someone who said they loved you hide such an important secret? I wasn’t sure it was possible.
I went downstairs and sat at the table. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but we needed to come to a truce. I needed to put my focus back on the case, and it wasn’t fair to leave her in limbo either.
About ten minutes later, she came downstairs. “He’s out like a light,” she said. “And your father and Mary are still at bingo.”
“Bingo?” I had no idea they ever left the ranch.
“Yes.” Bree didn’t join me at the table. She stood by the sink, several feet away from me. “After your father’s heart attack and stroke, Mary forced him to start having a life outside this place. It’s been really good for him. For both of them. If you give her a chance, I think you’ll like her.”
“I can tell she’s been good for him.” I didn’t want our conversation to stray over to the topic of my relationship, or lack thereof, with my father and stepmother. “So. We need to come to a temporary arrangement while I’m in town. I don’t want you worried that I’m going to take Ian and run.”
Her face paled all over again. “I didn’t think that,” she said.
“It would be kidnapping, for one thing,” I said. “And I don’t want Ian to have a criminal for a father. I also kind of want to keep my job, and I know from personal experience that he needs his mother.” I exhaled. “I would never take him away from you like that.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’m glad to hear that.” She buried her face in her hands for a moment before looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “You’d win in court,” she said. “If you wanted full custody.”
“What makes you say that? I’ve been around a few cases where we had to call in the child welfare caseworkers. In Texas, the judge considers the best interests of the child.”
“That’s what they say,” she said, and her voice quavered. “But I’ve seen the mother lose when she’s poor. I knew a housecleaner who lost custody to her police officer ex-husband. And I’ve seen an LPN nurse lose custody to her husband who was a banker.” Her voice broke. “The moms only see the kids on the weekends.”
It was clear to me that Ian needed his mother and that taking him would be detrimental to him. Besides, I’d been ditched by my mother; there was no way I’d be heartless enough to destroy that relationship.
“I don’t think that’s what’s best for Ian, so I’m not even going to try,” I said. “I know I said stuff earlier, but I don’t think you fully understand what you did. What you took from me. But ripping him away from you is not going to help him at all. I’m so angry I can barely see straight, but you’re a great mother.”
She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of tea. She poured it into one of the mason jars she used as glassware and took a long drink. “I did it to protect him.”
“How exactly was that protecting him?”
She put the glass down and turned her back to me. She braced her hands on the kitchen countertop. “I don’t want to make you madder, and maybe I’m making excuses. I’m fully prepared to admit that. But when I realized I was pregnant, I thought you wouldn’t want a baby. I thought you wouldn't want to be here.” She let her head rest against one of the cabinets. “So I just didn’t tell you.”
“You thought I wouldn’t want him?”
She turned around to face me again. “I thought you might come to see him out of obligation. But I couldn’t imagine you being a parent to him, and the thought of you coming and going, like my dad did…I couldn’t deal with it.”
It was true that her father had been absent even before he passed away. He didn’t make a clean break and disappear like my mother. He would show up once a year and bring her a gift that was appropriate for a much younger kid, like the time he brought her a Barbie when she was fourteen. Then he’d make a few promises that he didn’t keep, like tickets to a Cowboys game even though she didn’t care about football, or passes to Six Flags that never materialized.
She sniffed again. “I know it’s a ridiculous sob story. Millions of kids have the same story. It’s not like he was abusive.”
“But he wasn’t a dad.”
“No. He wasn’t,” she said. “I heard my mother say once that she wished he’d stay gone for good instead of getting my hopes up.”
“I get that, Bree, I really do. But when have I ever acted anything like your father?”
“Never. I know. It wasn’t right. And I know this will be hard to believe, but even before you showed up, I’d started to realize I needed to tell you. I had given myself a deadline of his fifth birthday, which is in September.”
“It is hard to believe,” I said.
“And after you showed up here, I knew I needed to tell you soon.” She swiped at her face. “Remember the other night when I said I had something to tell you?”
“Yes, I do. And I’m glad you were going to.” She had said that she needed to tell me something. I tried to imagine if I’d feel any differently if she’d told me the truth up front instead of waiting for me to realize it on my own.
“I mean, it was clear to me that you were going to notice he was yours.” She pulled one of the wooden chairs out and sat down as far away from me as possible. “If he wasn’t so into those costumes, you’d have noticed on day one.”
“Did you encourage him to wear those?” I didn’t think she had, but I had to ask.
“No. Absolutely not. He’s been into masks and costumes since he was a young toddler. You’ll see. Not
a day goes by that he doesn’t wear one or make one.”
“Did he wear them to preschool?”
“Within reason. The teachers didn’t want his face covered, but they didn’t mind if he wore a costume that looked like an outfit, or if he added a police badge, or a fireman coat, or a chef’s apron,” she said, smiling as she recounted his affinity for dressing up.
“I missed all that,” I said quietly.
“I know. I really am sorry,” she said. “It has become obvious to me that Ian needs a dad. That he needs you to be his dad.” She pressed her hands together and leaned in closer to me, looking right into my eyes. “I really am sorry, James. I know what I did was wrong. I should never have kept him from you, not even for a day.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Her apology didn’t fix much, but it did help to know she wasn’t blaming me or making excuses for lying to me. She could have continued to point out reasons why I wouldn’t have been a good father when Ian was a baby. And some of them might have even been true.
“I know you don’t trust me and you probably won’t ever again, but I mean it,” she said.
“Okay,” I said. “I think we can work this out. I will have to establish paternity with the courts since we were never married. But I’ll keep you in the loop so you’ll know what’s going on, and we can work out a visitation schedule. No surprises,” I assured her.
She nodded. She was still pale and her face looked drawn. Her usually bright eyes were flat and dull. Even after all of this chaos and all the subterfuge, I didn’t want to hurt her. Ian might be young, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t like it if I kept making his mom cry. It wouldn’t be long before he started to notice if she was always sad around me.
“Hey.” I got up from my chair and stood beside her. “I promise we won’t screw this up.”
She crossed her arms on the table and let her head fall to rest on them. “I already have,” she said.