by Piper Rayne
“What?” I sit up straighter, my chest constricting causing my breaths to grow shallow.
“They’ll want to be a part of her life.” She says it like she just told me I have cancer.
To me, it sort of feels that way. You don’t come out of the foster care system soft with dulled edges. You leave with scars and edges sharper than a shard of glass. You cut first and ask questions later. Selene seems to understand me more than anyone else I’ve ever met.
“What about Rome? He’s the father. Last night it looked like him and Denver were willing to duke it out over who was going to have to accept responsibility for getting me pregnant. He didn’t even remember me which means I’m only one in a long line.”
Selene lets a soft giggle loose.
“If you stick around, Calista will have a loving Uncle Denver because Rome and Denver are one in the same. And yeah, both of them have reputations in this town. Neither of them are the settling down type. So, it could very well be that Rome wants no part of being Calista’s father. But I’d be surprised.”
Speak of the devil, my baby girl murmurs through the monitor, stirring before she fully awakes.
How could he not want his little girl?
Don’t think that. If we’re lucky, he doesn’t want his little girl.
But then she could grow up with daddy issues and…
I stop the war in my head. “I’m going to get her. Thanks for the information, Selene.”
She smiles and follows me back into the house, walking toward her big picture window in the front of her house.
“Um… Harley,” she says, looking out the window.
“Yeah,” I say, one foot on the stairs.
“Rome’s here.”
My throat closes up and I’m torn on wanting to run and grab Calista and crawl out the window upstairs or shove Calista into his arms telling him what a fool he’d be to not love her.
Damn, I need to compartmentalize these feelings racing through my head. Selene’s truthfulness has my mind wavering about what I really came here for.
“Can you stall him?” I ask.
“Oh honey, you know I can.” She winks, taking the two sides of her cardigan and wrapping it around her middle.
By the time I’m at the top of the stairs, it’s settled. I’m going to get Rome Bailey’s DNA and get the hell out of Dodge leaving no trace for him to follow.
Six
Rome
Thanks to the good folks of Lake Starlight, it didn’t take me too long to find Harley. I say a silent prayer that Holly’s mom, Karen, sticks her nose in business that isn’t hers and that my Uncle Brian likes to brag about his nieces and nephews to anyone who will listen. It made finding Harley and Calista pretty damn easy.
I paced my floor with a dull headache most of the morning because I had no idea when a good time to stop by would be. When does a baby wake up? Fuck if I know.
I walk past the Cozy Cottage B&B’s lawn that’s littered with what Selene calls art when my phone vibrates inside my pocket. I pull it out of my jacket and see Savannah’s name on the screen—again—and send her to voicemail—again. She’s in fix-it mode, but there’s nothing to fix until I know exactly what’s going on.
Shoving my phone back into my jacket, I raise a hand, but before I can knock, the door swings open and Selene stands there wearing bright pants and a cardigan. There’s a splatter of paint in her hair and small dots on her sweater. Always making something with her hands.
“Rome, what a surprise! What are you doing here?” she asks. I doubt I’m much of a surprise. She had the door open before I announced myself and, hello, this is Lake Starlight, the land of Buzz Wheel. Rumors are already spreading, but no names have been given. Thank God.
“Hey, Selene. How are you?” My hand falls to the back of my neck, my headache now radiating down to my spine. Damn whiskey, nothing good ever comes from it.
“I’m good. Just getting some pieces ready for the Farmer’s Market this summer.” She leans against the frame. “You interested in seeing any for the restaurant?”
She’s blocking me which means, she knows. Either Harley told her, or she’s a detective like every other Lake Starlight resident and has pinned me as the father.
“Not today. Is Harley around?” I stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans, rocking back on my Converse.
“Oh.” Her hand comes to her chest and a smile tilts up the corners of her mouth. “I didn’t realize you knew my guest?”
Selene’s not one for lying, so my assumption is she knows everything right down to the fact I gave Harley the wrong name.
“We can keep pretending you don’t know why I’m here or you can let me in to talk to Harley and we’ll figure this out.”
The smallest of smiles tips the corners of Selene’s lips and she steps back from the door, allowing me in. “I always liked you Rome. How is Grandma Dori?”
I forgot how filled with knick-knacks her place is. It’s like a horror movie. I can’t help but feel like all the creepy figurines are staring me down, seconds away from coming to life and attacking me.
“She’s good. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s next to show up on your doorstep.”
Selene laughs. “Well, she’s always welcome.”
“How’s Stella? I heard she’s back on the east coast getting her degree?”
I hate this small talk. Not that I don’t care about how Stella or Selene are doing, but I really just want to speak with Harley.
Stella is a friend of Kingston’s who used to hang out at the house all the time when Kingston and his buddy Damon thought they could be rock stars.
“I miss her so much, but she’s where she needs to be.”
I nod in agreement. Everyone in Lake Starlight knows Stella should be as far away from Kingston and Damon as she can. The three of them together just never worked.
A child’s scream floats down the stairs before Harley appears around the corner with Calista on her hip. She’s blubbering, her bottom lip sticks out quivering while tears run down her cheeks.
My chest squeezes and I’m overcome with the need to try and soothe her, do whatever it takes to make her happy.
“Hey,” Harley says, not at all surprised to see me. She stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks from Selene to me and back.
“Someone’s not happy, is she?” Selene says and reaches out to wipe a tear off Calista’s cheek.
Harley tenses and holds Calista to her hip a little tighter.
“She’s hungry. She’s off her schedule which means…” Harley stops talking, adjusting Calista on her hip.
Of course, I’ve shown up here at the worst possible time. I should’ve consulted a mom, but I don’t know any moms and since mine is resting at Union Cemetery, I don’t have anyone to go to for advice.
“Sorry, I should’ve called,” I say, feeling like an idiot except Harley never gave me her number anyway.
“Why don’t I feed Calista something and you two can go out back for some privacy. The path is clear of snow since it’s melting and it’s a pretty nice day out.”
Selene is right. Spring isn’t here yet, but it feels downright balmy after the long winter we’ve endured.
“I don’t know…” Harley appears hesitant to cede her daughter—our daughter? —to Selene, but I know her, she’s good people.
“Selene can handle it,” I say, not sure if she’ll kick me in the nuts for speaking my mind. I don’t quite remember the edge she holds from that night. Usually my type are easier going and pleasant.
Harley’s lips press together for a second before she passes Calista over to Selene.
“Is grilled cheese and some applesauce okay for her?” Calista finds the dried paint in Selene’s hair and fixates on it.
“Yeah, she’ll like that.”
“Okay then, you two catch up. We’ll be in the kitchen.” She starts to walk away, but Harley stops her.
“Just make sure to open up the grilled cheese so the inside isn’t too h
ot for her.”
I’m not sure Selene needs the guidance, but she’s gracious enough to nod her assent before disappearing to the back of the house.
“She has a grown daughter,” I say with the hopes it puts Harley at ease, but her head snaps in my direction and the look on her face has me wanting to cover my junk and cross my legs just to make sure.
There’s a beat of awkward silence between us before I speak again. “Do you have a coat?”
“Oh, right.” She walks over to the front hall closet and pulls out a black coat. She struggles to get the hood on the sweater she’s wearing out from under the coat, so I step up behind her to help her out.
She smells like a fruit platter—berries with a twist of citrus. And her skin is so soft on the back of her neck as I brush her hair to the side and reach down to pull her hood out from under her jacket. Bad move on my part because now my dick has perked up and is in full chub mode.
This is exactly what got me into this situation in the first place.
I clear my throat and step back.
“Thanks,” she says in a rough voice. Does she know? Did she feel it up against her leg? I really need to get it together here.
“No problem.” I motion for her to go ahead of me out the front door. “We can take the path around to the side of the house into the backyard.”
Once we’re out back and looking out over Selene’s yard that’s dotted with various gardens, paths, and fountains that aren’t working yet, Harley stops for a minute. “This is quite the set-up.”
“Wait for the warmer months. Lots of people come here to have their wedding photos done.” Not only is Selene into art, but she also has a master green thumb. I remember the flower arrangements that laid over my parents’ caskets courtesy of her.
“I can see why,” she says.
We walk side-by-side down the path for a few seconds, neither of us saying a word until I can’t take the silence any longer.
“I might as well start with the obvious question… how did you find me?” As soon as the words leave my lips, I realize how they must sound. God, I’m messing this up big time. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, I swear.”
She ignores my backpedaling. “Well, when I thought your name was Denver—”
“Before you go on, I have to apologize to you for that…again. I don’t know why I gave you his name. I wasn’t myself that night. I was pissed about my flight delay and was moving away from home and well… it just slipped out. At the time I didn’t know we’d end up going home together…”
“It’s fine. Truth is if you hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have found you. Like I said, I saw him on the news when his plane went down with that music producer.” She stuffs her hands in her pockets.
I nod, remembering. It was national news for a hot minute because of who Denver’s passenger was.
“Wait. That was more than six months ago.” My forehead creases.
She glances away from me.
I stop walking when realization dawns on me. “You had no intention of letting me know I had a daughter, did you?” A black hole opens up in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I’m not the only one who needs to feel guilty here.
She turns and faces me, blowing out a breath. “Look, I’m not here to up-end your life. I get that I showed up here out of the blue and that you were in no way expecting for this to happen.”
I’m so confused. I push a hand through my hair and try to sort this out in my head. I know I’m hungover, but I can’t make sense of what she’s saying. She travels all the way here from Seattle to confront me with the fact that I have a daughter and yet she doesn’t want me to be a part of my daughter’s life?
“I don’t get it. What are you here for? Money?”
“Money?” She rears back and you’d think I offered her a twenty to suck me off. My own anger feels like poison on the end of my tongue, so I better tread carefully here. This isn’t how I want to start off my co-parenting relationship with a woman I barely know.
“I need something from you.” She takes a step forward.
“You didn’t try to find me to tell me about the baby. Then when you do by some miracle, you wait six months before coming here. I just asked about money and from your reaction, it’s clear that’s not why you’re here. I don’t understand what’s going on here, Harley.”
Her back stiffens. “Even if I had tried to find you, ROME, I wouldn’t have been able to because you gave me a fake name. And hello, I didn’t have a last name. Your cute little note on the pillow in the morning conveniently left off a phone number?” She circles around, her hand on her hip. In my experience with my sisters, nothing good ever comes from the hand on hip, hip jutted out, pose. “I needed six months because I didn’t know what to do. And I don’t want your pity money thrown at me. We’re doing fine.” She spins back around and stomps off farther up the path.
“What is it you need from me then?” I catch up to her.
“Same thing I said last night. Your DNA. Your medical history. Your family’s medical history.”
I scrunch my forehead. “Okay, but you thought I’d give it to you without ever wanting a relationship with my daughter?”
She glances to her side at me. “I figured you’d be thankful not to be burdened. You didn’t exactly seem like a ‘settle down, family’ type of man.”
The look of disgust on her face has me wanting to cast stones. She was a willing participant that night. I may not have remembered her immediately, but the more I scour my brain, the more it’s coming back to me and I distinctly remember her hand down my pants before we even walked into my hotel room. She knew the score before she walked in there with me.
But that’s not going to get us anywhere so I can’t say that right now.
“Maybe you figured wrong. So, you want this medical history for what?”
I have a feeling it’s not just so Calista will have the information when she grows up. I mean a woman who chose to hide the fact I had a kid for six months after finding me isn’t coming here and risking the chance that I could argue my parental rights just so our daughter knows where she got her brown hair from.
“My…” Harley glances down to the ground for a second before she raises her head and meets my gaze. “I mean our...daughter… is sick.”
Seven
Harley
The color drains from Rome’s face like I punched him in the stomach, or lower. “Calista is sick?” He says it softly like he’s doing his best to wrap his mind around this newfound information. His reaction takes me by surprise.
Maybe I shouldn’t have just blurted it out. Of course, I didn’t expect him to track me down here, so I’m not exactly prepared. This was supposed to be a quick in and out, ‘no worries I want nothing else from you, see you later’ kind of thing. It was supposed to be easy-peasy because the man I met two years ago would’ve thanked me on his knees not to have his life uprooted by a child and a baby mama. But the despair in Rome’s face tells a different story. His shocked eyes to ghost-like appearance say that just like everything else in my life, this isn’t going to go as planned either.
“Want to sit?” I ask, finding a bench that overlooks where I’m guessing the majority of wedding pictures are taken. There’s no flowers or greenery at the moment, but there’s a beautiful arbor I imagine looks gorgeous in the summertime with ivy tracing up the spindles.
He hesitates for a minute but does end up sitting down next to me, opting for his ass to be perched on the edge of the wooden bench, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes on the hard ground below our feet.
“She was only diagnosed recently. Calista has Von Willebrand Disease. It’s not super serious, but… we’re fortunate it was caught early. Once she started walking and moving, bruises started to appear on her arms and legs. I freaked out, but my doctor told me I was overreacting. My gut kept me going back. Finally, when she had a nose bleed I couldn’t get to stop, I went to another doctor who took my concerns a step further and tested her.”
“I don’t get it. What exactly is it?”
“It’s a clotting disorder. She’s making the proteins we all do, but hers don’t work right. There are different levels you can be at—she’s a level two.”
He pushes a hand through his thick hair. “Is there a cure?”
I shake my head. “No, she’ll live with it her whole life. As she grows older, I’ll have to make sure to tell surgeons if she ever has to have surgery and her period can become too heavy which I’ll have to address once she hits puberty. She can live a normal life, there are just precautions that need to be taken, but…”
“Is there a medicine she can take? Anything to make it go away?” he asks, a crease between his eyes.
I’m speechless and taken back for a minute. He’s actually… concerned? I thought for sure he’d shrug me off and think I was just using Calista’s illness as a way to get his DNA and force him into paying child support. But I don’t think he’s putting on an act. I think he’s honestly worried for my…err, our daughter.
“No, but honestly she’s good. I mean if she does bleed, I have to be cautious. Some people go their entire lives with it and never even know. You could have it.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “I would know.”
“Not necessarily. The doctor said most likely it came from one of us and I was tested. I don’t have it.”
He stands and paces in front of me, eyeing me every once and a while.
“So, you’re here to blame me for my genetics because I gave her this disease she’ll have to live with the rest of her life?”
And there goes calm Rome.
“I’m not blaming you, I’m here so I know what she has to face going forward. So I won’t be surprised again. So she has somewhere to look for answers if need be in the future.” The edge in my tone reappears.
I have to remember I’ve had two months to process this, he’s just learned he has a daughter and now one with a medical condition.
He sits back down. Thankfully.
