It was sometime in the middle of the night when Lina awoke. Phil was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees, breathing in and out deeply.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, pushing herself up on her elbows. “Phil?”
“Nothing, I just—I had a nightmare.”
“A nightmare?” She couldn’t recall him ever having a nightmare, or at least not one he shared with her. “Do you remember it?”
“Unfortunately.”
“It was that bad?”
He fell back onto the mattress beside her, tossing his forearm over his eyes. “Yes.” He let out a deep sigh. “It felt real.”
“What was it about?”
“Us. I dreamed this was all a dream and that I was still living in that house in Farside,” he said, referring to the house he’d lived in when they were separated.
“It was a dream.” She pressed her lips to his shoulder.
“I used to have the exact opposite dream when we were separated. I would dream we were together and I would be so relieved, but then I’d wake up and I’d still be in that house. God, I hate that fucking house. I can’t even drive by it without feeling this tightness in my chest.”
“Stop talking about it.” She tugged his arm from his eyes.
“I was so fucking lost without you.”
“It was just a dream,” she whispered, curving her body around the back of his as he rolled onto his side.
“I couldn’t go through that again.”
“You’ll never have to.” She stroked her hand up and down his arm. “Just go back to sleep.” She pressed her cheek against his back. Within a few minutes his breathing changed, and she realized he’d fallen asleep. She’d been with him more than twenty-six years and this was the first time she could recall him expressing any type of vulnerability.
Chapter Eight
“You’re late,” Lina said when Phil stepped out of the mudroom and into the kitchen.
“I am?” He paused to meet her lips for a kiss.
“Katie.” She tugged on the lapels of his suit jacket. “Your daughter’s seventeenth birthday. Our reservation is for seven. I tried to call you, but your phone kept going straight to voice mail. Everyone else is already at the restaurant.”
He’d completely forgotten about Katie’s birthday. “I turned it off earlier and forgot to turn it back on. Do I have time to change?”
“No.” She took his arm, turning him back into the mudroom. “We’re already going to be ten minutes late.”
In addition to Katie and Logan, Matt, Lina’s parents, and Adele were already seated at the restaurant when Lina and Phil arrived. “Is this place new?” Phil asked Lina after they sat down, taking in the brightly lit restaurant with light-stained hardwood floors and modern art decorating the walls.
“No. It’s been here for years.”
“I’ll just have a steak,” he said, closing the menu.
“That should be interesting,” Adele said from across the table. “I suppose they could give you a big slab of tofu. Maybe you wouldn’t notice.”
“Are you looking for suggestions, Phil?” Lina’s father, Drew Rayburn, asked, looking at him over the rims of his reading glasses. “They’ve really mastered the art of imitating the actual flavors of meat and cheese in recent years. You barely notice the difference.”
“What is he talking about?” Phil asked Lina, ignoring her father as he opened his menu again.
“This is a vegan restaurant,” she said, rubbing her hand on his thigh.
“Vegan?”
“Why don’t you try a pizza?” Lina suggested.
“I thought vegans didn’t eat dairy.”
“They don’t. The cheese is made from soybean.”
“Wait—they have chicken quesadillas. I’ll just get that.”
“Do you see the quotes around ‘chicken’?” Lina asked, touching the word “chicken” on his menu. “That means it isn’t actually chicken. It’s probably good though.”
“How about the crab cake? Is it crab?”
“No. Look at the quotes around ‘crab.’”
“Christ.” He closed his menu. “You can order for me.” What in the hell was the point? Every item on the menu was a fraud.
“The beer’s not bad,” Adele said, holding up her glass. “It’s an IPA—organic, of course.”
“Pinot?” Phil asked Lina when a waitress arrived to take their drink order. “And I’ll have one of those.” He nodded across the table to Adele.
“The origins of the organic food movement aren’t new,” Drew said to no one in particular. “They began in Europe in the 1920s. Of course, they didn’t gain traction in the United States until the late 1960s and early ’70s. In this country it was due to some high-profile cases regarding pesticides.”
Phil stopped listening as Drew continued with his history lesson. He could barely stomach Lina’s father. The man had basically packed a bag and left his family thirty years ago, providing not much more than monetary support, as he had a prestigious career as a professor at the University of Chicago. In the past year he had divorced his second wife and returned to claim the family he’d abandoned. For reasons inconceivable to Phil, Lina’s mother had taken him back with open arms, as if the previous thirty years hadn’t occurred.
The rest of the family seemed to be doing the same. Until the prior fall, Lina hadn’t spoken to him in twenty years, and their children had never met him. Now he was being invited to every family get-together. With a wedding planned for July, it looked like Drew Rayburn was back to stay.
“How can you forgive him?” Phil asked Lina as soon as they were in the privacy of their car. “He chose to skip your entire childhood.”
“It’s not about forgiving him. He’s marrying my mother. What do you expect me to do? Disown her, the woman who raised me on her own? Plus, the kids like him.”
“I don’t,” Phil said. “At all.”
“I know. Everyone knows. You’re not doing a very good job of hiding that fact.”
“I’m not trying to,” Phil said.
“Well, try,” Lina said. “What are you doing?” she asked when he turned into the Wendy’s parking lot.
“Getting something to eat.”
“Phil—” She was cut off by the ringing of her cell phone. “It’s Logan,” she said, bringing it to her ear. “What’s wrong…? No. Your dad just wanted something…We’re going to have cake and ice cream…Okay…I heard you.” She ended the call. “Your son would like a double cheeseburger.”
“Of course he would,” Phil said smugly. “How about Matt?”
“He didn’t mention Matt.”
“I’m sure he wants one, too. He just didn’t want to admit it in front of the birthday girl.”
***
Lina was at the kitchen island with her mother and Adele, placing candles on Katie’s cake, while Matt and Logan sat at the table, wolfing down burgers and French fries as if they hadn’t just eaten. Katie handled it all good-naturedly, spouting off the nutritional facts of the food they were putting into their bodies.
Phil came into the room, freshly changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and sat down at his usual spot at the end of the table and began to eat his own hamburger.
“Katie said we’re eating cartilage, tissues and…what was the last thing you just said?” Logan asked.
“Peripheral nerves,” Katie answered.
“Yeah. They taste pretty good, don’t they, Dad?” he asked with a smirk before biting into his hamburger.
“Tell them what you were telling me about the meat-processing places, Grandpa,” Katie said.
“I was reading a—”
“No,” Phil said, cutting Drew off midsentence. “I don’t want to hear about a meat-processing facility while I eat a goddamn hamburger.”
“Phil,” Lina chastised, not liking the tone he was using.
“I’m eating,�
� he pointed out. “If Logan and Matt want to hear about it, they can go out on the deck with him.”
Both Matt and Logan quickly seconded that they didn’t want to hear about a meat-processing facility. Drew shrugged and crossed into the kitchen to look at the cake.
“Did you know that birthday cakes date back to the ancient Greeks and were a special way to pay tribute to the Greek moon goddess, Selene?”
“No,” Lina answered. “I never actually thought about it.” She met Adele’s eyes, trying not to laugh. She was beginning to wonder if Drew spent his spare time reading random entries in Wikipedia.
“Of course, the origin can also be traced back to the Germans, the Swiss, and even pagans,” he continued, before launching into a history of each.
“Does he ever stop talking?” Phil whispered in Lina’s ear as he gripped her hips from behind. She was standing at the counter, dishing ice cream onto the plates Adele was passing out.
“Be nice.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you would give me away at my wedding,” Lina’s mom said, coming to stand beside them. At sixty-seven, Alice Rayburn had the youthful vibe and disposition of someone half her age.
Lina could feel Phil’s hands tighten on her hips. “Mom, don’t you think you’re a little old to be given away?” she asked. “I mean, you’re not really anyone’s to give away.” There was no way Phil would agree to walk her mother down the aisle, not when it was Drew Rayburn he was walking her to.
“It’s a tradition.”
“Since when are you into tradition?”
“No,” Phil said. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Who else am I going to ask?” Alice frowned as Phil walked away.
“No one,” Lina said. She was still having a hard time fathoming why her free-spirited mother wanted to have a wedding. “Why don’t you just elope?”
“Why would I do that? I want my family to share in our happiness. How many children get to watch their parents get married?”
“None, because it’s not normal,” Lina answered.
“Oh, don’t be such a fuddy-duddy. You’re too young to be so stuck in your ways. When am I going to meet my new grandson?”
Lina almost dropped the plate in her hand. “What are you talking about?” she whispered, looking around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.
“The baby.”
“I know what you’re talking about,” Lina whispered.
“Then why did you ask me what I was talking about?”
“Because I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You haven’t met him yet?” Alice asked, her eyes widening. “You don’t plan to ignore him, do you?”
“Mom,” Lina hissed. “Katie’s birthday isn’t the time to discuss this.”
“Well, when is the time then? He’s Phil’s son. You can’t very well ignore him. He’s going to be part of your life.”
Alice’s words replayed in Lina’s mind as she prepared for bed. Her mother was right. She couldn’t just ignore Liam’s existence. Eventually she was going to have to meet him and accept him into the family. She just wasn’t ready yet.
The ringing of the phone interrupted her thoughts, and she answered without checking the caller ID.
“I need to speak with Phil,” came the distinctly female voice.
Lina’s hand tightened on the receiver. She’d heard her voice only once before, but she was almost certain it was Kim. “Who is this?”
“Just put him on the phone.”
“You have no business calling our home at this hour or ever.”
“I don’t?” Kim laughed softly. “I’m calling the home of my son’s father. I think I can call at any hour I want.”
“This is our home. If you’d like to speak to him, use his cell phone.” Lina disconnected the call. The phone immediately began to ring again. She clicked the phone on and off again, effectively disconnecting the incoming call. When it rang a third time she did the same thing.
“Who in the hell keeps calling?” Phil asked as he came out of the bathroom, shirtless with his toothbrush in his hand. “It’s after eleven.”
“Kim,” Lina answered. “She clearly didn’t get the message about not calling our home. According to her she’s allowed to call at any hour she would like.”
He crossed to his bureau to retrieve his cell phone. “What did she want?”
“You,” Lina answered as she yanked down the comforter.
“I thought you were going to disconnect the line.”
“And I thought you were going to keep her from calling here ever again,” she countered, annoyance in her voice.
“I’m not the enemy.” He came to the bed with his phone in his hand. “I forgot the cell was off.” He was looking down at his phone as it powered on.
“It couldn’t be too serious, whatever she wanted. She laughed at me when I told her not to call here.” She went to lie down but immediately changed her mind, knowing she was never going to fall asleep. “Just the sound of her voice is…” She trailed off as Phil brought his phone to his ear.
“What?” he bit out, his jaw shaking with anger. He turned away from the bed and Lina, walking toward the windows overlooking the backyard. “I told you never to call my house…No…It’s eleven thirty. This could have waited until tomorrow. I’m not at your beck and call…Our communication can be done via text…Unless he’s on his way to a hospital, you are never to fucking call me again…Calling my house, my wife, is harassment…Don’t push me, Kim. I will get a restraining order.” He ended the call.
“What did she want?” Lina asked as he headed back toward the bathroom.
“Nothing that couldn’t have waited until tomorrow.” He disappeared into the bathroom.
Lina’s heart rate was still elevated when Phil joined her in bed a few minutes later, smelling of a mixture of spearmint toothpaste and soap. She could feel the tension radiating off of him.
“I should have disconnected the line,” she said.
“This isn’t on you,” he said. “I brought her into our fucking lives.” He reached over her and turned out the bedside light, blanketing the room in darkness. “She wants me to stay until ten tomorrow night. She has a work dinner and the nanny has a conflict.”
“Are you going to?”
He sighed. “Do you mind? If you do, I could ask the nanny to figure something out.”
“No. It’s okay. I don’t mind you being there without her.” Lina curved her body into the side of his, resting her cheek on his warm chest. “It will be nice for you to have a little extra time with him.”
Chapter Nine
It took Phil less than two hours to realize he was in over his head. He may have fathered three other children, but it was Lina who’d fed them, bathed them, and changed their diapers. His role with baby rearing had consisted of him handing them over to Lina whenever they needed something more than a toss in the air or a game of peekaboo.
He was at the sink, running a wet cloth over a carrot stain on his dress shirt, when Liam, who was in his high chair, decided to put applesauce in his hair. “Jesus Christ.” Phil sighed, crossing to him. “Why are you doing that?”
“Gaah, gaah,” Liam shouted, continuing to rub his hands through his hair.
“It’s for eating.” Phil removed the tray from the high chair before unstrapping Liam. “You’re a mess.” He carried him to the sink.
Liam slapped one of his applesauce-covered hands against his father’s head as he gurgled with laughter. “Baah.” Liam’s other hand gripped Phil’s tie.
“Are you always this bad?”
Liam’s answer was another slap to Phil’s head.
Phil turned on the faucet and managed to clean off Liam’s hands and get most of the applesauce from his hair. In the process he drenched his own shirt and Liam’s outfit. “I think you need a bath.”
He carried h
im to the nursery and set him in his crib. Liam immediately began to wail in protest. “I’m not putting you to bed,” Phil reassured him as he tugged at the knot of his tie. “Just a second, buddy. Daddy needs to take off his shirt.” He finished removing his tie and wet shirt before stripping off Liam’s clothes.
He realized when they reached the bathroom that he’d never given one of his children a bath. He couldn’t recall ever even changing a diaper. He pulled back the shower curtain and noticed a blue plastic tub. He vaguely remembered Lina using something similar to bathe their kids.
Thirty minutes, several towels, and three diapers later, Phil had bathed, diapered, and dressed Liam in a long-sleeved onesie. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Phil asked him as he heated his bottle.
Liam fingered the sleeve of Phil’s undershirt, staring up at him with sleep-filled eyes.
“It’s almost ready, buddy.” Phil brushed his lips over Liam’s forehead.
Phil was on the couch in the family room, watching a twenty-four-hour news channel, with Liam asleep on his chest. Despite their limited time together, he felt the same pulsating connection to him that he’d felt for his other children. It was as if something deeper than just his conscious mind knew that he was his father.
He carefully transported Liam from the family room to his nursery, placing him in his crib before quietly leaving his room. It was after ten. He sent Kim a quick text asking when she’d be home. Ten minutes later there was still no response.
It was after midnight when Phil heard the sound of the front door opening. He was off the couch and halfway down the hall before Kim stepped into the foyer. “Where the fuck have you been?” he bit out. “You said ten o’clock.”
“You scared me,” she said, bringing her hand to her chest.
“It’s after midnight.”
“Sorry. The meeting went longer than I expected.” Her gaze dropped to his undershirt. “Is that an invitation?”
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