Off Beat (Forgotten Flounders Series Book 1)

by J. C. Hannigan

  “Figures.” Dad huffed, his brows knitting together with contempt, placing Mom’s tea down in front of her. She shot him a warning look before returning her attention to me.

  “What is it?” She leaned toward me and took my hand. My father remained standing, slightly to the left of Mom. I watched him for a beat—taking in how he was already preparing himself for the immediate disappointment he knew I’d cause.

  I couldn’t remember a time when my father wasn’t always expecting the worst out of me, and I inwardly deflated at the thought that yet again, I was proving him right.

  But that would end here. I sat up taller, not letting my father’s contempt shrink me down. No more running. No more disappearing.

  “It turns out that I…have a son.” I swallowed, my eyes seeking my mother. Time stood eerily still while my parents stared at me. Dad’s eye started twitching. I swallowed hard before continuing. “With Harper. He’s almost eight…and…” I lifted my hand, pushing it through my dark hair as I struggled to find more words to fill this devastating silence.

  Mom let out a little squeak, her hands coming to cover her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Oh, Ma, don’t cry,” I reached out for her hand, feeling that tremendous amount of guilt pressing down on my chest.

  “Let me get this straight.” My dad’s hard voice lashed out. He raised his brows, his eyes furious. “You knocked up your girlfriend and still took off gallivanting around the globe?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “You would have if you hadn’t been such a—“

  “Michael!” Mom shouted, her voice lashing with anger. “Enough! Sit down and shut up.” She pointed to the vacant chair beside her, and Dad begrudgingly obeyed, still glaring daggers of disgust at me. My mother turned her watery gaze to me. “Cal…” her voice wavered.

  “Like I said, I didn’t know about him, and now I do. Before you say anything,” I lifted my hand in warning, noticing my father had been about to open his mouth. “Now that I know about him, I’m moving back. I’m taking a break from work to focus on getting to know my kid.”

  “Oh, honey,” Mom was still crying a little, but she began to smile. “That’s—“

  “Deplorable.” Dad scoffed, shaking his head with disdain. His arms were folded across his chest.

  “Mike,” Mom sighed, turning to look at him. “He is trying to do the right thing.”

  “The right thing would have been never leaving in the first goddamn place.” My father barked, his angry eyes boring into me.

  “Yeah, Dad. You’re right. But I did, and I can’t focus on what I did years ago, I have to focus on the present. I’m done rehashing this with you. Leaving the way I did was a mistake. Now let’s move on.”

  Dad slammed his fist against the tabletop, jostling the teacups and sloshing tea into the saucers. “Let’s move on?” He cocked a brow at me, and leaned forward, everything in his gaze challenging me. “You’ve got a bloody kid you supposedly didn’t know existed until what, yesterday? Who knows how many other bastard kids you’ve got around the globe, and we’re just supposed to move on because you said so?”

  I drew in a breath, fortifying myself and working hard to ignore his digs and not let them flame my own temper. “Either move on, or I will walk out this door again, and you won’t be a part of what comes next. I may be a lot of things, Dad, but my son won’t know conflict like this.”

  I was deadly serious, and he knew it. The silence stretched between us, wrought with the discord of our stare down.

  “Michael, please.” Mom pleaded softly, placing a trembling hand on Dad’s shoulder. She sent him a beseeching look, and he conceded, clenching his jaw in restraint. She turned to me. “What’s his name?”

  “Asher,” I replied, addressing her, forgetting my father for a moment.

  “Where do they live?”

  “Mahone Bay, Ma.” I could tell my answer upset her a little—they’d been so close for so long.

  Mom cleared her throat, trying to disguise the hurt, and smiled—a genuine one. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re moving back. And I hope we get to meet our…grandson soon.”

  “You will,” I assured her. “I started house hunting, and I’m hoping to find something with a quick closing date. I could get a hotel room until my housing situation is settled. I don’t want to overstay my welcome here.”

  “Don’t be foolish. You can stay with us.” Mom said, her tone leaving no room for arguments. Judging by the look on my father’s face, I didn’t think he held the same opinion on the matter.

  I nodded my thanks, standing up. “I have some calls I need to make to line things up, so…I’ll see you later.” I pressed a quick kiss to my mom’s temple before leaving the room.

  Now that I’d told them, it was best to leave my dad the hell alone and let him process the news in the way that made sense to him, without bearing witness to his indignation. His volatile reaction would entice one from me as well, and I couldn’t have that.

  Harper

  I stepped out of my car as the familiar gray Volvo slowed and pulled into the driveway, gravel crunched beneath the tires as it slowed and then came to a stop behind my car. Dad killed the ignition as Mom collected her purse, then they stepped out of their vehicle in sync.

  We’d just pulled into the driveway ourselves, after stopping off at the grocery store.

  Asher climbed out of the backseat and closed his door. Catching sight of his grandparents—his entire face lit up.

  “Poppop!” He shouted, bulldozing into my father for a hug. Dad chuckled and hugged him, ruffling his hair affectionately.

  “Hey, kiddo! How’s it going?” My dad asked.

  “Really good!” Asher replied, his eyes widening with excitement. I held my breath, waiting for the bomb to drop. At nearly eight, Asher didn’t understand the complexities surrounding Calum’s return—or how my parents felt about him. I was hoping I’d have a chance to talk them privately beforehand, but I wasn’t counting on them showing up the moment they got back to town. “I’m meeting my dad tomorrow!”

  Both of my parents stilled as if they’d been doused with cold water. Mom shot me a look, and Dad stiffened, hurt permeating his hazel eyes. The look was gone quickly, disguised and controlled with an affectionate smile for my son.

  “How did this come about?” Mom questioned, her brow furrowing.

  I sent a pointed look to Asher, warning her without speaking that this wasn’t a topic we’d be getting into with him here, listening. Dad caught on and distracted Asher. He likely knew Mom wouldn’t let this information pass without verbalizing her opinion on it.

  “Let’s go toss the football around,” he suggested. Asher jumped on the chance to play with his grandpa, and they disappeared around the side of the house to the backyard, leaving me alone with my mother.

  “So? How was Ontario?” I asked, trying to buy myself some time as I turned to my trunk and grabbed the grocery bags. Ellery would be over shortly to make garlic bread, and I was going to start preparing the lasagna for tomorrow’s dinner.

  “Harper…” Mom said, using the same warning tone I’d heard a million times throughout my life. She looked anything but thrilled with me. “You can’t be serious.”

  I sighed, pivoting, and walked up the porch steps, bags in hand. I could hear her behind me as I fiddled with the lock. Pushing it open, she followed me into the house.

  Setting the grocery bags down on the counter, I inhaled, preparing myself for the unpleasant conversation I knew was to come.

  “How did this happen? Did you reach out to him?” she pressed.

  “No, Mom. His grandfather died, so he’s back for the funeral. He came to the bookstore on Tuesday to see me, and—well, Asher is his son.”

  “Harper.” Mom scolded with an air of disappointment. I glanced at her; at the rigid way she held her shoulders. “You don’t know what his intentions are. You know the kind of life he’s led since you—do you really think he’ll stop
all that and be a father? The fame, the money—the women?”

  That last remark struck my heart with the violence of a meat cleaver.

  “What he does or doesn’t do will not alter the fact that he is Asher’s father, and he has a right to know his son—and Asher has a right to know his dad.”

  Mom watched me carefully. Her eyes pinched with concern. “I really think you should talk to a lawyer first. I could call Maureen from Benson and Brandt Law Firm. She’d be able to draw something up—“

  “Mom, please stop,” I raised my hand, silencing her. “It’s just dinner. It’s just a chance for them to get to know each other a little. I don’t see why I need a lawyer for that.”

  “What if he tries to take Asher away from you? Have you thought of that?” Mom snapped, her impatience getting the best of her.

  “Calum would never do something like that.” I wasn’t sure about a lot of things happening right now, but I knew that much. It seemed like he just wanted a chance to be around, and if I didn’t give it to him, Asher would be the one who suffered most.

  “Be that as it may, I remember the first time he left—how hard it was for you, how devastated you were. I don’t want you to go through that again…and more importantly, I don’t want Asher to go through it.”

  “I don’t either, obviously.” I exhaled audibly, pushing the strands that had fallen free from the bun behind my ear and meeting her gaze. “But Calum deserves a chance, and I think he’ll surprise you.”

  It was in his eyes, the set of his lips. His determination. It poured out of him, the desire to be present for our son—the desire to know him. He was true in those intentions; I knew it in my heart.

  That’s what made his return so dangerous. For me, anyway.

  “You’re going to lose your head and heart to him again,” Mom predicted, shaking her head incredulously.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I rolled my eyes, and turned back to the counter. I started putting away the groceries, my back to her, pissed that she’d laid a voice to my own fears.

  Her prediction shook up my resolve; I could already feel it. What we had between us all those years ago was still there, buried beneath the hurt. It was in the way he looked at me. It was in every word he spoke to me.

  My mom watched me for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry. I can’t help but worry. It’s a mother’s job, as you know.”

  “I do,” I agreed, glancing at her over my shoulder. “But this isn’t about Calum and me. It’s about Calum and Asher. That little boy wants to meet his dad, and Cal isn’t a bad person. He’s made some choices, choices he says he regrets. I see no reason to keep them apart any longer than I already have.”

  “You didn’t keep them apart,” Mom corrected.

  “Yes, I did. I can admit that. I couldn’t bear the thought of him not wanting Asher, too. But Mom…you should have seen his face when he realized it. If I’d told him sooner…” I left the rest of that thought hang silently between us.

  “You told him when he came back, which I suppose is what you’ve always said you would do.” Mom sighed, resigning. “Just…promise me that you’ll be careful. With yourself, more than anything.”

  “Of course,” I assured her, my heart pounding with the promise I hoped I could keep.

  I couldn’t sleep very well that night. Ellery had come over halfway through my parents surprise visit. While the garlic bread baked, we drank wine and watched the latest episode of Grey’s Anatomy. After she left and Asher went to bed, I cleaned. Almost obsessively. I dusted every surface, washed every pane of glass, trying desperately to shut off my brain and not think about tomorrow as I moved through each room.

  But trying not to think about it was still thinking about it, and physical labor was the only way I could disburse the restless energy that accompanied my rumination. I stayed up until two in the morning. I went to bed when I had run out of chores to do. Even then, I’d laid awake in bed for hours.

  Asher let me sleep in, quietly occupying himself with a bowl of cereal and the television. When I finally cracked my eyes open at ten, I’d panicked, and spent the rest of the day silently fussing over everything, rearranging throw pillows and straightening pictures.

  It was nearly six o’clock—the time I’d told Calum to come over for. I’d spent the last hour trying to hide the bags beneath my eyes and make myself presentable.

  I leaned forward, triple checking my reflection. The concealer did its job, masking my sleep deprivation and making my complexion appear dewy and healthy. I accented my brown eyes with a dark plum eyeliner and mascara. That was the extent of my primping. This wasn’t a date after all—it was me, painting on a mask, desperately pretending I had it together when I really didn’t.

  The doorbell rang, and Asher called out that he’d get it. Deeming myself adequate enough, I put away my makeup kit and left the bathroom, descending the stairs as Asher swung the door open.

  Calum almost filled the doorway. He looked every bit the rock star he was, what with his black leather jacket and Eddie Bauer boots. The crisp dark blue shirt he wore fit snuggly against his firm body. In one hand, he held a bouquet of flowers in a light pink glass vase and in the other, a wrapped present. Tucked beneath his one arm was a brown paper bag from the liquor store.

  For a moment, I forgot to breathe. Calum smiled hesitantly down at our son. “Hi, Asher. I’m…Cal.” He swallowed, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob with the motion.

  The sound of his voice somehow reset my ability to breath—and move. I finished descending the stairs and stopped on the landing, giving them a little space for this moment.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Asher replied politely, while his blue eyes took in every detail of his father. I wondered if he was picking out the similarities between the two of them—or more focused on the present in Cal’s hand.

  “Ah, this is just…a little something. I heard your birthday was coming up, so…” Calum trailed off, his eyes darting to me as if he needed to check that I was okay with it. All I could really do was nod—I was too choked up for more.

  Calum shifted the items in his hands so that he could pass the wrapped present to Asher, who shook it.

  “Is it…LEGO?” Asher knew the tell-tale sound of LEGO in a box. Calum grinned at the excitement in his voice.

  “Open it up and find out,” he encouraged. Asher didn’t hesitate. He sat down cross-legged in the foyer and ripped into the wrapping paper, revealing a sleek black box.

  “Why don’t you come in?” I suggested, rubbing my damp palms against my jeans. He nodded, and Asher let out a huge gasp that caught my attention with a snap.

  “Mom…it’s the Imperial Star Destroyer!” he exclaimed, jumping up to show me the rare—and extremely expensive—set.

  “I see that,” I swallowed while Calum stepped completely inside, pulling the door shut behind him.

  Asher turned his attention back to his father, his eyes bright with excitement and wonderment. “Thank you! It’s really awesome.”

  Calum smiled back, his own eyes swimming with emotion, and held out the bouquet of flowers to me. “What’s this now?” I asked him, trying not to be swayed by the beautiful arrangement.

  Stargazer lilies, snap dragons, pink gillyflower, pink roses, and pink miniature carnations were nestled amongst green miniature hydrangea. Accented with lemon leaf, ming fern, and spiral eucalyptus, the fragrant bouquet—and the hesitant uncertainty in Calum’s expression—made me swoon.

  He had a look in his eyes that sent me back all those years, to the romantic, thoughtful gestures, to how it felt to fall in love with him the first time; how easy it had been…how right it had felt.

  “Flowers and wine,” he replied, a slight smile lifting the corner of his lips. I narrowed my eyes, not finding him amusing—but Asher giggled, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Consider it a…hostess gift.”

  “Thank you.” I hesitated. “Make yourself comfortable. Dinner is almost ready,” I added, walkin
g through the living room and placing the pretty vase down on the island in the kitchen. Glancing over my shoulder, I caught Calum shrugging out of his jacket. He hung it up on the coat rack by the door before Asher led him on a very short tour of the main floor.

  They paused between the small dining area tucked beneath the stairs, and Calum’s gaze went around the room, slowly taking everything in while Asher chattered happily and gestured to things around him. His gaze rested on the photographs on the living room mantel. He eyed the artwork and assignments I’d displayed on a wire along the dining enclave.

  My clear view of them through the peek-through window allowed me to see the gift of seeing the awe and bewilderment flickering through Calum’s sea-blue eyes as he listened to Asher.

  There were a lot of places that Calum had to duck to avoid cracking his head on, and I couldn’t help the small bubble of laughter that spilled out. I watched him duck and weave around the stairs when Asher dragged him over to look at a recent assignment he’d aced, clipped to the wire that hung on the east wall.

  Calum heard and shot a look at me through the peek-through window, lifting his brow at me. I cleared my throat, vanishing the traces of amusement from my face, and busied myself opening the oven to check on the lasagna.

  “And this is from my first school concert.” I heard Asher say proudly. When I looked up, he was pointing at the photograph of him sitting at his school’s piano dressed in his fanciest clothes last spring.

  “You play the piano?!” Surprise coloured Calum’s voice, and he glanced at me for confirmation.

  “He does. I read a study that said playing piano helps improve speech, reading ability, listening skills, and creativity…” I shrugged, feeling a little silly. The truth was, I’d known his family had a rich history with music, and I’d wanted to honor that. “I wanted him to have the best advantages, so I enrolled him in lessons when he was four. He took to it like it was in his blood, funnily enough...”