Getting Schooled

by Parker, Ali

  Tears were falling from my eyes, which was incredibly frustrating, because of the two people sitting in the room, I was certainly not the one who deserved to be emotional. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just… I was scared.”

  “Scared of what?” he asked sharply. “Scared I wouldn’t want him? Scared I’d bail on you? Who the fuck do you think I am? Some asshole you met in passing? Jesus. I feel like you hardly know me at all. If that’s what you really thought…” He raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “Why the hell are you even with me if this is what you thought?”

  “It’s not,” I gasped. “It’s not what I thought. Not at all.”

  “Then what was it?”

  I stared at him, and he stared back. His shock was giving way to anger. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d choose to be with me only because there was a baby in the picture, not because you wanted to.”

  “So it was about you?”

  I rubbed my lips together. “In hindsight, I can see that it was, yes.”

  “In hindsight?” He pushed himself to his feet and pointed a finger at me. I curled in on myself toward his sofa. “You deliberately kept my son from me, Emelia. You hid him from me for six years. And hid me from him. Those are six years I can’t get back. Not ever. You… you stole that from me.”

  I wiped furiously at my tears as he retreated to the window and put his back toward me. I went to him but kept my distance. “Jace, I wasn’t thinking. I made a terrible mistake not telling you right away, and the more time that went by, the harder it became for me to come clean. I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk Linden. Couldn’t look you in the eyes and tell you what I’d done. But I’m doing it now. And I know you might not ever forgive me.”

  “Might not?” he asked, turning toward me. “Might?”

  “Jace, I—”

  “I need you to leave.”

  “What?”

  His voice cracked. “I need you to leave. Now.”

  I moved toward him. “Jace. Please. Let me explain. Let’s talk this out. I can’t leave things like this. Not after everything that’s happened since I moved here. If you just—”

  “Emelia.” He said my name like it was rotten food sitting on his tongue.

  I flinched and retreated back a step.

  “Please,” he said, softer this time. “I need to be alone. I need to process this. I can’t be with you right now.”

  Right now? What about later? And when exactly was later? How long was I going to have to suffer before he talked to me again?

  What if he never did?

  What if he could never forgive me and this was it for us?

  What if I’d ruined every glimmer of hope Linden had of knowing his father?

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, knowing it wasn’t enough, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference now, knowing it would sound as hollow in Jace’s ears as it felt in my own throat. But it was all I could offer before I turned and rushed to his front door and pushed outside into the cool Halloween night air.

  There were still kids walking from door to door as I made my way down the sidewalk. I tried to stop the shaking in my hands, but it was useless, so I wrapped my arms around myself and tucked my hands into my armpits.

  How had I been so naive to think he would understand?

  After my talk with Marie, I’d decided that enough was enough. I had to tell Jace. I couldn’t keep this from him anymore. If I did, I ran the risk of him finding out through someone else, and that was completely unacceptable. In my foolish mind, I figured him finding out from someone else would destroy us entirely. I hadn’t considered that it still might if the words came from my own mouth.

  I’d thrown a grenade into the middle of our relationship.

  And I’d hurt him. Badly.

  I could see it in his eyes that he was in pain. Not physical pain but turmoil. I could picture him, pacing in front of his living room window, trying to wrap his head around this as he processed the massive scale of my lie.

  He had another son.

  Paxton had a brother.

  And like he’d said, he’d lost precious time with Linden. Time he couldn’t get back.

  I wiped at my tears and knew I must look like a mess. My white powder was likely streaked with mascara, and my black lipstick had probably half worn off. I was a pathetic witch. A melting witch. A witch who deserved all the suffering she was currently enduring.

  I walked all the way home from Jace’s house. When I was only a few blocks away, it started to rain. Lightly at first, but then harder, and when I got to my front door, my clothes were soaked through, and I was crying so hard I could barely get the keys in the lock.

  Once the door was unlocked, I took three deep gasping breaths to get myself under control and then went inside. I was thankful for the rain. Nobody would be able to see my tears.

  I found Linden and my parents on the sofa in the living room. Linden was asleep on the floor, wrapped up in one of my throw blankets with his basket of candy within reach. My parents were sitting on the sofa chatting quietly amongst themselves, and they both looked up at me when I closed the front door behind me.

  “Oh, sweetheart. You must be freezing. Shall we put on a pot of tea to warm you up while you get changed?”

  I nodded at my mother. “Sure. That would be nice.”

  She got up from her seat. My father stayed where he was, and I went to get changed.

  I fell apart again as soon as I was in the solitude of my bedroom. I put my back to the door, slid down the length of it, and sat on the floor with my knees pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped around my legs. I cried into my black witch dress, feeling sorry for myself and even sorrier for Jace.

  “What have you done?” I whispered to myself.

  I didn’t know how long I sat there and cried. It could have been five minutes. It could have been twenty. All I knew was that I was still crying when my mother knocked on my door. “Emelia? Are you all right in there?”

  I sniffled and wiped desperately at my eyes and nose. “Y—yes. I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

  My mother was quiet. She was still standing on the other side of the door. I could feel her hesitation. “Em? Will you let me in?”

  “Please, Mom. I just need a minute.”

  “Something’s wrong.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not.”

  How did mothers always know when something was amiss? And why couldn’t I catch a break just this once?

  Not that I deserved to catch a break.

  Not at all.

  With a sigh, I stood up, turned to the door, and pulled it open.

  My mother stood on the other side, looking at me the same way she did when Ron Christianson broke up with me two weeks before prom. With love and warmth and tenderness in her eyes. She extended her arms. “Come here, sweetheart.”

  I caved and went to her for the comfort I so desperately needed. Her embrace was warm, and we shuffled into my room to sit down on the bed. She stroked my hair and whispered that it would be okay over and over. Like each time she said it, it would become more believable.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. Hush now.”

  I shook my head. “It won’t be. I ruined it.”

  “Ruined what?”

  “Everything.”

  She pried herself free of me. We both sat on the bed while I caught my breath and wiped at my eyes.

  “What do you mean by everything?” she asked.

  “Me and Jace. He hates me.”

  “Hates you? It sure seemed to me like there was a lot between you tonight. But certainly not hate. Why do you say that?”

  I studied her. Could I tell her the same thing I’d just told Jace? Would she hate me, too? Would she blame me or think me a bad mother?

  She’d be right if she did.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “I need to tell you something.”

 
She put her hand on my knee. “Okay.”

  “Jace…” I lost my composure and broke when his name passed my lips. Frustrated with my own inability to speak, I shook my head at the ceiling and closed my eyes. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks and ran into my hair. I took a shaky breath. “Jace is Linden’s dad. And he didn’t know until tonight. Because I just told him. And he told me to leave.”

  My mother didn’t say anything.

  I cracked open one eye and peered over at her. “Do you hate me, too?”

  My mother let out a tired sigh and patted my knee. “I don’t hate you, Emelia. I could never hate you. I think you made a mistake, is all. People make mistakes all the time.”

  I opened my other eye and stared incredulously at her. “How is that all you have to say?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not surprised, Em. Your father and I had our suspicions. And after seeing Jace tonight, I was fairly sure he was Linden’s father. They look strikingly similar. How Jace didn’t put it together himself, I have no idea.”

  My gut twisted. “Because he’s too good to ever consider I would have lied to him. It would have never crossed his mind.”

  “Perhaps.”

  I buried my face in my hands. “I can’t believe I screwed up the best thing to ever happen to me.”

  “Emelia, maybe it’s time to stop thinking about ruining this for yourself. Maybe it’s time to start thinking about how you can make up for what you did.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. That’s for you to figure out. But sitting around feeling sorry for yourself won’t change the choices you made. Give him some time. And then see where it goes from there. Jace is a good man. Good men can forgive.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” I asked. It was a question I was terrified to ask.

  “Then you pick up the pieces, and you move forward. One step at a time. Like last time.”

  Chapter 33

  Jace

  John answered his phone on the third ring. “Hey, man. Can I call you back? Marie and I are in the middle of our annual Halloween horror movie marathon, and we’re at the best part of—”

  “John.”

  He was quiet a minute. “You all right, man?”

  “She lied to me.”

  “What?”

  “Emelia. She lied to me.”

  John was quiet a beat. Then I heard Marie say something in the background. “Jace, what are you talking about? She lied to you about what?”

  “Linden is mine.”

  “Come again?”

  “Linden. He’s my son.”

  More silence filled the line. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m coming over,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I said before tossing my phone down on the sofa cushion beside me.

  Emelia had left just shy of an hour ago, and I’d spent that time trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had another child, and the woman I loved had deliberately withheld that information from me.

  She’d kissed me. Made love with me. Stared into my eyes and whispered sweet nothings to me.

  And all the while, she’d been sitting on the biggest secret ever.

  Linden was my boy.

  Paxton’s brother.

  I ran a hand over my face and felt prickly whiskers along my cheeks and jaw. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet, but it felt far later. My body was heavy with exhaustion, and my mind hummed with confusion and shock.

  It was too much to process. I needed someone to talk to. Someone to tell me what was rational and what wasn’t. Someone to share space with while I rode out this storm.

  My phone rang.

  Expecting it to be John calling back, I picked it up without checking the call display.

  A huge error. Gwen’s voice filled the speaker. “Hi, Jace. I didn’t expect you to pick up so fast. You waiting for a call from a hot chick or something?”

  Now was not the time. “What do you want, Gwen?”

  “So moody. And on All Hallows Eve, too. What’s got your loincloth in a bunch?”

  The first Halloween Gwen and I were together, I’d dressed up as Tarzan, and she’d dressed as Jane. We won best couple in the costume fashion show. That was the last time I’d worn a costume. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long night.”

  “Did Pax go Trick or Treating?”

  “He did.”

  “Really? First time. What did he dress up as? Did you take pictures?”

  “Yes. He was a cowboy.”

  “That’s kind of cliché, isn’t it?”

  I sighed. “He’s four, Gwen. Cliché is pretty much his wheelhouse. I let him pick his own costume, and that’s what he wanted, all right?”

  “All right. Jeez. Lighten up.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I can’t talk. What are you calling for?”

  “My plans got messy. I’m sorry I couldn’t come see Paxton when I called you the other week. But I’m landing in Annapolis on Sunday. I have some commitments, but I’m going to come pick up Paxton on Tuesday. I want to take him bowling.”

  “He hates bowling.”

  “Well, he’ll have fun with me. I’m bringing Travis along with me, too. Paxton will like him. He’s great with kids.”

  Travis was her current boy toy. I hadn’t met him, and I didn’t care to. “Just don’t fall through this time, okay?”

  “I won’t,” she said defensively. “You don’t give me enough credit. I have a really busy lifestyle, okay? I can’t just drop things and—”

  “And make time to see your own kid? Yeah. I get it, Gwen. Trust me. I’d prefer you didn’t make time at all. But we can’t always get what we want, can we?”

  “Screw you, Jace. I’m trying to make this work. I’m taking steps to see my son. What are you doing? Sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, wishing things had gone differently?” She scoffed into the phone. “Some things never change. Whatever. Tell Paxton I’ll pick him up on Tuesday at four thirty. Make sure he’s ready. I don’t want to lose any time with my son.”

  She hung up.

  I stared at the phone in my hand as my temper roared. Then, before I realized what I was doing, I hurled it across the room, where it blew apart on the brick trim around the fireplace.

  I wanted to yell. To break shit. To throw a full-blown tantrum. But I couldn’t because Paxton was asleep in his room. So I pounded my fists into one of my throw pillows until the seam split and a puff of feathers exploded out of one corner.

  Then there was a knock on the door.

  I marched over to it, yanked it open, and let John in.

  He entered tentatively, studying me as I went to the liquor cabinet behind the sofa and poured myself a whiskey. I held the bottle up to him, and he shook his head.

  I filled my glass, went around the sofa, and dropped back down into my seat. John hovered on the outskirts of the room and watched as I lifted the glass to my lips.

  “Aren’t you going to sit?” I asked, pointing my chin at the open spot on the other end of the sofa.

  John sighed and took a seat. He watched as I continued working on my drink. “Is that your first one?”

  “Yep.”

  “You might want to take it easy.”

  “Gwen just called,” I said.

  “Ah. Great. Way to make a shitty night even shittier.”

  “You can say that again,” I grumbled.

  “What did she want?”

  I smirked. “To tell me that she’s coming to take Paxton out on Tuesday night. Bowling.”

  “Doesn’t he hate bowling?”

  “Sure does.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  “Sure did.”

  “And she doesn’t give a damn?” John asked.

  “What do you think?”

  John sighed. “I think your ex-wife is a walking, talking black hole.”

  “Cheers to that.”

  John shifted in his seat. We were both quiet for a minute, and I stared at my drink, s
wirling the dark liquid around the bottom of the glass before tilting my head back and polishing off the last two mouthfuls. I got up and poured a second.

  John watched over his shoulder. “Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said honestly. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “I just mean I’m sorry that—”

  “Stop,” I growled. “She kept saying she was sorry. Over and over. She was sorry. Sorry for what? For lying to me all those years? For continuing to lie now? For stringing me along? What the fuck was this? Was she testing the waters to see if she’d like our little nuclear family together? Was it all just a trial run, and if she didn’t like it, she’d jump ship, no harm no foul?”

  John’s eyes followed me as I dropped back down into the sofa. He stroked his beard. “You and I both know Emelia isn’t that kind of person.”

  “I have no idea what kind of person she is anymore.”

  “She’s the same girl. She just… I don’t know. Lost touch of what right and wrong was for a minute there. And then things got messy. And murky. She didn’t know what to do, and she chose wrong. Very wrong.”

  “You can say that again,” I muttered.

  “She made a mistake.”

  I nodded.

  “A big one,” John continued. “But people fuck up sometimes. Are you going to let this ruin everything you guys have going?”

  “Let it?” I asked sharply.

  “You heard me.”

  “So the ball is in my court?”

  John shrugged. “You need to decide what you want. That’s all, man. And then go from there.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You need to take the time to process this, for starters. This isn’t going to sit well right away. You need to digest. But when you’ve had some time and a bit of distance from the betrayal you feel right now, you might be able to stand back and look at this objectively and decide what you want out of this.”

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean what I want?”

  “Well,” John said slowly, “for starters, you need to decide if you want to be a part of Linden’s life. You have to decide if you want to be his father. And if the answer is yes, then you need to decide what that means for you and Emelia. Can you forgive her? Or will you guys have to make an arrangement that is best for the kids?”