I remember those days when Robert came to help me, and at those memories, more heartache overwhelms me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “If I could have helped you the way he had, I would have told you back then. But … I couldn’t and he was … and …”
“Renee, please,” I mutter, closing my eyes and wishing it would all stop.
Renee touches my wrist. “He already knew he was the father. So don’t feel bad about—”
“Brody’s the father.” The words leave me from numb lips. My throat’s sore and tight, the words barely audible. I repeat, “Brody’s the father. You’re wrong.”
“What?” Renee looks as confused as I feel. “No, Robert’s the father. That’s why he helped …”
“No. Brody is her father.” I turn my phone to her so she can read the same words I just did. Brody’s name is there in black and white. One question has been erased from my mind, but they’ve been replaced with more. “It’s not Robert, it’s Brody.”
“I don’t understand,” Renee murmurs before she takes the phone from my hand. She holds it close to her face. The words won’t change. I know, because I’ve read them ten times already. Brody’s name is on those results.
Renee repeats with disbelief, “He took the test. I thought he only stayed because …”
“You thought he only helped me because he was the father?” With a wary expression, Renee nods. My heart breaks again. For me. For Renee. For Brody, who’s going to learn he’s Bridget’s father, and for Robert, who has stepped up for my baby girl all these years.
Most of all, for my little girl. Robert’s been there all her life. I have no idea what happens to us now.
“He helped me because he loved me,” I tell her and wipe the tears from my eyes. “He’s been in Bridget’s life because he wanted to be.” Every word hurts more and more. Peeking up at Renee, it’s as if she doesn’t believe it.
How could Renee not know what Robert and I were to each other? I can’t comprehend how my best friend missed such a crucial detail.
“He loved me, Renee; I told you …”
The closeness I had with Robert isn’t comparable to anyone else. He was my first love. In every way. I promised him under our oak tree that I would love him forever. My shoulders tense, bracing for another hit. I said those words to him, and I meant them.
“I thought he didn’t want you to take the test because then he’d have to step up for real.” Renee hands my phone back to me with a heavy sigh and regret shining in her eyes. “That’s why I hated him so much.” I’m not sure if her confession is meant for me or for herself.
Guilt tears through me again, bringing fresh tears to sting the corners of my eyes. “I wish you’d told me back then.” My voice is soft as I tell her, careful not to make her feel any worse than she already does.
“I tried to tell you but the moment I was ready, you told me how much he was helping and giving you, and I couldn’t replace what he was willing to give. Driving a wedge between that ... I didn’t know what would happen. I didn’t want you to be worse off than you were and you ... you were happy.” Her eyes shine with tears as she tells me, “It had been so long since you’d been happy. I didn’t want to take it from you.”
I’m not angry with Renee. I know exactly how complicated things get when they involve other people. Especially people you love. I don’t blame her for not coming to me with this news earlier, I just wish she had done it sooner. I wish I’d known. I wish Robert had told me.
Renee reaches for my hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Everyone’s trying not to upset anyone, but it’s an upsetting situation, so …” A laugh slips out of me, but it’s a painful one. How do things keep getting more tangled into knots? The more I find out, the less I know. It reminds me of the uncertainty I felt when I first discovered I was pregnant with Bridget. The hormones and emotions made for the perfect storm and I felt like I was losing my balance for months. The only thing that brought it back was Robert. And the times I thought about Brody. These two men are so entangled with my life.
And Bridget’s … My own heart can break a million times, but I’m darn sure going to make sure I keep hers from getting broken along with it. Renee squeezes me before getting up to get tissues. She puts them in my lap and sits close by while I go through a third of the box, crumpling them up one by one as I look back on the last four years, imagining what Robert must’ve felt.
When my eyes are mostly dry, I look up at the ceiling and blink. “Okay. That hurt more than I thought it would.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s a mess.”
Renee snorts a little. “I would call it that, yeah.” She continues watching me, running her hand through her hair nervously. All the times she was caustic when he was mentioned, I wondered why. Concern and apology shine in her eyes. Nothing can change the past, no matter how much you regret it. With a shaky breath I stand, and find my legs to be just as shaky.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to tell them.” I should take my own advice and not spend so much time wishing I could change the past. “Well, maybe not Robert …”
My best friend shakes her head. “I imagine not. Since he’s the one who already knows.”
Renee stays quiet as I gather everything off the coffee table.
“Do you think you could watch Bridget for me?” I ask her.
“Yeah.”
I bet it broke Robert’s heart, learning he wasn’t Bridget’s dad. He never let on. All those times he came to my house and rocked her to sleep and played with her and saved me from breaking down, he knew. My heart aches with unconditional love for him.
“I’ll tell Brody first. Then I’ll talk with Robert.”
“You want me to text them for you?” Renee’s offer is as sincere as anything. She’d text anyone for me. Make any call I needed. Wouldn’t be the first time either. “I’ll rip the bandage off. I’ll do it fast.”
“I can do it.” I take a long, deep breath. Time to live up to the mantras I keep repeating to myself. A good mama and a strong woman wouldn’t shy away from doing what needs to be done. “They should also have the results by now, though. They know. If I know, they know.” I should send something anyway, right? My fingers tremble as I reach for my phone. I’m not sure what to say to make this right with Robert. I’m not sure there’s anything I can say to make it right. Sometimes you can’t put broken things back together. “I’ll message them. I need to grow up and do it.”
“I think you’ve done a lot of growing up for a twenty-five-year-old,” Renee says, pride in her expression. She adds, “Me growing up means buying Advil in advance for my hangover. Not … all this.”
Brody is Bridget’s father. I remind myself of the other half of this and it’s … it’s kind of perfect. Still, I struggle with it all.
“Why am I so sad?” I wish there were an answer she could give me that I’d accept, but there’s not. There’s not an answer in my heart, either, just a big, raw ache. “I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”
I’m not ready to meet this head-on. I know I need to explain things to Bridget. She’s old enough to notice that all the other kids in her daycare have fathers, and I’ll have to be honest with her. My baby deserves to know she has a father, and that I’m with him and I love him … but Robert.
“Sometimes I think it hurts so much because I’m not good enough for her.” The truth slips away before I can stop it. Mama guilt is a real thing and rears its ugly head. “Maybe I’m not good enough for anyone, Renee. I feel like I don’t deserve any love at all right now.”
Renee leans in and looks me in the eye. “It’s not about deserving love or being good enough. If you aren’t allowed to make mistakes, we’d all be alone.”
“I think I’ve made more than enough mistakes.” I let myself laugh a little. It feels better than crying, though I still don’t think much about this will ever be funny. “I’d like to do something r
ight for once.”
“Mama?” We both turn around and find Bridget in the doorway, her bedhead in a cloud around her face and her cheeks pink from a good long nap. I hold my arms out to her and she lazily makes her way to me, wrapping her arms around my leg. In the end, she’ll be the most important person in my life. No question about that. No matter what happens, I have to do right by her.
“Look at your daughter,” says Renee, reaching out to pat Bridget’s hair. “If you ask me, you’re doing great, babe. Just keep going.”
Robert
Three years ago
“You look good with a baby in your arms,” I tell her, letting the words slip out. I didn’t mean to, since it looks like sleep will take her any minute.
Magnolia’s lips slip up into a beautiful smile, something I haven’t seen her wear in far too long. “She’s perfect,” she murmurs. There’s a darkness under her eyes that tells me she hasn’t slept.
“Want me to hold her?” I offer. “I can take her if you want to go to bed.”
“I’m here for that,” Renee comments from the kitchen and I look over my shoulder to find her drying a bottle with a towel. I make a mental note to bring dishcloths next time. The list of things Magnolia needs is entirely too long. But sleep is evidently the first item on that list.
“I forgot you were here,” I say and grin at her, but she doesn’t return the humor. There’s a distrust in her glare I don’t understand. We’ve always been friends.
“If you guys could,” Magnolia says as she stands, the little one still firmly on her chest.
“Let me.” I’m quick to help her up and then take Bridget from her. She’s fast asleep, a delicate little bundle.
“I can—”
“It’s fine,” I say, cutting off Renee and reminding her that my cousin had a baby last year. “I know what I’m doing,” I add and again, Renee’s response is cold.
My stomach drops, wondering if she knows. Bridget’s only ten days old, and no one would know by looking, but she’s not mine. Those little fingers that rest on my chest and the small coo as she wriggles into place … there isn’t one bit that belongs to me.
She’s not my daughter and judging by the way Renee reacts to Magnolia passing her infant to me, she knows.
“Just for a quick nap, then I’ll try to pump again,” Magnolia says but it’s muddled with a yawn.
Magnolia offers me a simper, looking like she might say something else. It’s hard to swallow as I wait to find out what it is. Especially with the shine in her eyes and that look of hers I know well. It’s a look she used to give me back before this mess happened.
Whatever it is, though, she swallows it down, her gaze dropping to her stained nightshirt instead. “I should probably shower and change too,” she comments with a hint of a laugh and then kisses the top of her little girl’s head.
Before I can reply, Renee pipes in with, “You may feel better then.” The tension between us only grows as I take my spot on the love seat, with Bridget resting, still sleeping, and Renee moves to sit on the chair across from me.
The floor creaks as Magnolia leaves us, saying, “Thanks, you guys.”
“So, what have you been up to?” Renee asks me, and again her tone is off.
“Just work,” I answer, searching her gaze for a hint of whatever she knows.
“She’s having a rough time right now.”
“I know.”
It’s so quiet, the click of the air coming on is the only thing that can be heard. An anxious heat slips through me.
“I know what you did.”
I don’t answer at first, my lungs stilling and I wait for her to elaborate. There’s so much I’ve done that’s wrong, I don’t know what she’s specifically getting at. “Is that right?” I finally ask when she doesn’t tell me what she’s referring to.
“You waited to see if the baby was yours or not.”
My hand instinctively splays across Bridget’s back. She’s so small, the span of my palm is larger than her back.
“You know you’re the dad.” Renee’s sarcastic smile comes with a huff of ridicule. She doesn’t know. It hurts to watch the disappointment shining back at me in her eyes. She swallows harshly, the sound filling the room. “You think occasionally letting her get a nap in is enough?”
I can’t respond. Half of me wants to tell her the truth; the other half prays she’ll tell Magnolia what she thinks. In the moment of silence, I imagine Magnolia coming to me, demanding for me to be here and to be in their lives. It would be perfect. She would let me love her again. If she thinks I’m the father, maybe she’d give me another chance. I would do it all right. I swear I would. Even if we are so young, I promise I’d be a good father.
In my absence of a response, Renee says, “You don’t deserve her.”
She’s right. Renee is right. I don’t deserve Magnolia. Here I am fantasizing about lying to her. To starting a life together built on lies. I don’t know what’s wrong with me or how I came to be the way I am. So much is wrong and I can’t fix any of it.
It’s so deceitful that everything Renee says makes me feel like this pain is deserved, even if she doesn’t know the truth.
My phone chimes in the silence and as I shift Bridget to reach into my back pocket, Renee stands and takes her from me. “There, there, baby girl,” she coos, cradling the little girl.
Her warmth is gone in an instant.
The text is from my father. “I have to go,” I tell Renee, who doesn’t respond. When my gaze moves from the message to her, I catch sight of her wiping tears from her face.
A vise tightens inside of me, making everything that’s hurt violently scream in pain.
As I prepare to confess, she tells me, “Just go.”
My throat is tight and it’s all unforgiving as I quietly leave, hating that I can’t face the truth, let alone share it with the people I care about. The door closes softly behind me and I breathe out a heavy exhale.
So?
So what? I respond. My father is the only one who knows. He pulled the strings to have the paternity test done.
About Magnolia’s lawsuit.
What about it?
He questions, Is she going to be able to come up with the money?
I’m paying for it. Before my father can object, I add, I’m not taking advice from you on this. She needs a good lawyer and we’re going to make sure she has the best. Tell him I’ll pay for it.
She may never forgive me. I might never be able to make the last year we spent together as a couple right. But I can help her. I can fix the hell her father put her through. I can do the little things and be there. One day she might love me again.
The more whiskey I drink, the farther back the memories go. There are so many little details I missed, but somehow the bottle remembers.
The bark against the oak tree at my back seems to soften. The breeze turns colder as the night sets. If I wasn’t so stiff, I’d get my ass up and find somewhere else to spend my evening.
But I don’t want to go home and see my mother.
I don’t want to go to my apartment that’s cold and empty.
I don’t want to go anywhere but backward in time.
The taste of the whiskey reminds me of one of our first kisses after Bridget was born, on the back porch of my parents’ house. She came by to drop something off. I was half a glass in and offered her the remainder.
Whiskey never tasted so good as it did lingering on her lips, her hands resting on my shoulders. As I deepened our kiss, her nails scratched their way down my back and she straddled me.
If I could go back, I don’t know which time I would pick. I love her, but Bridget … the world wouldn’t be right without her little girl.
Footsteps alert me to the fact that someone’s coming and through gritted teeth I suck in a breath, wiping under my eyes and pulling myself together. My back aches as I try to stand and the world tilts slightly, the bottle sloshing in my hand.
“Don’t get up,”
a voice says, firm but not confrontational.
I still where I am, a prick traveling down my neck.
“Brody.” I deserve a fucking award for not saying his name like the curse it is. It took me a long time to not blame him for everything. I know it was my fault, I started it all, but if he hadn’t been there …
“Robert.” Brody mocks the way I say his name, but there’s a friendly grin on his face and he’s quick to take a seat next to me, facing the same dimming sunset sinking into the sea on the horizon.
“What are you doing here?” I question him.
“I was asking for you at your office, and the girl at the front said sometimes you take your lunch down here.
“It’s quiet,” Brody comments and then his gaze falls to the bottle in my hand. He rights himself, staring at the water. “So I can see why you like it.”
“Yeah … the quiet is good sometimes,” I say, just now realizing I’m more drunk than I’d like to be. In the far distance, kids can be heard playing sometimes. There’s a park behind a row of trees to the right. But other than that, it’s just the sound of the ocean and the kiss of the autumn breeze.
I nearly tell him about this tree. About the promise I made her. The words scream inside, wanting to tear their way up my throat so he’ll know. I want him to know exactly what he took from me. But if a single word comes out, I know I’ll lose it. More than that, I know I’m the one to blame.
“Thanks for signing over the approval for everything,” Brody says and I stare at him. The longer I stare, the more I see Bridget and my gaze falls.
“Why are you here?” is the question I settle on after a moment passes.
Anger bristles inside of me, but he doesn’t share the sentiment.
“I thought we should have a,” he takes in a breath, waving his hand in the air like he’s searching for the right word, “a second chance at meeting one another.”
Fuck you. The words are right on my tongue, but I bite them back. If I have any chance at staying in their lives, I know I’m going to have to deal with him.
Autumn Night Whiskey (Tequila Rose Book 2) Page 13
