Again with the neck rubbing. “If he’s mine, I want to fulfill my financial obligation.”
“Your financial obligation?” I scoffed. “Don’t you think you should have thought about that when my twenty-one-year-old sister told you she was pregnant?”
“Look,” he raised his voice, “I know I’ve made some mistakes here, but I’m trying to right them.”
“No, what you’re trying to do is cover them up by writing a check. You can keep your money; we don’t want it or need it. Drew has always been well taken care of.”
“Rachel, I didn’t mean to imply that he wasn’t, I just want to …”
“Cover your tracks.” I finished for him.
He hung his head down.
“Don’t worry Mr. Turner, your secret won’t leave this room, so feel free to announce your candidacy for whatever it is you are running for. From what I can tell you already have the makings of a fine politician.”
He stared hard at me with those eyes of his. I wished he wouldn’t. I could read them so well and they pleaded for understanding, but I couldn’t understand this. I couldn’t understand a father not wanting to know his son, especially my Drew.
He didn’t respond.
“Excuse me, it’s time for me to pick up my son from school.”
I seethed all the way over to Mountain Brook Elementary, but once in the car line I began to worry. All of the what if’s began to accumulate in my worrisome mind. I didn’t like the fact he knew about Drew and where to find us. I also could no longer tell Drew that I had no idea who his father was. From time to time he would ask. I knew it was natural for him to want to know, even part of me was curious. I would have never guessed in a million years that Sydney had a semi-famous secret. No wonder she never wanted to say. I wondered if I told Drew who he was if he would want to meet him.
Call me selfish, but I didn’t want to share Drew, especially with someone that obviously cared more about himself than anyone else. Part of me had always felt like an impostor since I didn’t give birth to him. I know it is dumb, but I couldn’t help it. Drew knew I wasn’t his biological mother. He knew I was really his aunt, but he had always called me Mommy or Mom. Since Sydney and I were genetically identical, he did look like my son, but he looked more like Andrew Turner’s son.
Andrew Turner looked a lot like I had pictured Drew’s father to be. He was tall and handsome with those unusual amber eyes. He wasn’t an unapproachable handsome. You know the kind of man that is way too good looking and every woman is attracted to. No, he was only nice looking, but I bet his profession had women throwing themselves at him. Women like my sister and Cheyenne. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised she chose someone like him. She loved the limelight, but she also loved the ridiculously attractive men too. Andrew didn’t really look like her type. Truth be told, he was more my type—minus the self-centeredness—if I had a type or the time.
I tried to forget about him, but seeing my little guy who wasn’t so little anymore was a glaring reminder. I didn’t need a paternity test to tell me that Andrew Turner was his father; my eyes and heart could do that.
“Hey, big guy,” I said with a smile as he climbed into our Grand Cherokee.
“Hi, Mom.”
I loved that title more than any other and today in particular it made my heart melt.
“What was your favorite part of school today, besides recess and lunch?” I asked as soon as he was buckled in.
I could see him grin in the rearview mirror. I asked the same thing every day.
He thought for a moment before his eyes lit up. “Andy laughed so hard that milk came out of his nose.” The thought made him laugh. His laughter was contagious, so I had no choice but to laugh as well.
After we calmed down and we were back on the road to the office I asked my other usual, “Did you learn anything interesting today?”
“Nope,” he responded.
“Nothing at all?”
“Mom, I told you school is soooo boring. I already know everything.”
“That’s great because I was hoping you could take over my job.”
“Mom …”
“Well since you know everything.”
“Okay—maybe not everything.”
“I guess I’ll keep my job and you can keep going to school.”
He rolled his eyes at me. I knew he really liked school, especially the social part, but he was too smart for both of our own goods at times. The school had talked to me about moving him up a grade, but he was already one of the youngest in his class with a July birthday, so I declined. I did agree to let him go to fourth grade for math though.
I noticed my dad’s old Ford truck in the parking lot when we pulled up. Drew did too and was excited to see his grandpa. He wasted no time unbuckling himself as soon as I stopped. He was out the door and running into the office before I could make it to the curb. I credited him for my still slim figure. Who needed diet and exercise when you had an energetic boy to chase after?
When I walked in Liza gave me my messages and also a mischievous smile. “So how was your meeting with Andrew Turner?”
“Nothing to report. Please forget he was ever here.”
I think she assumed it had been a personal call and was falsely interjecting her own misguided thoughts. She was around my age and constantly asking if I wanted to meet this person or that person or double date with her and her boyfriend, Hank. I’ve always declined. Drew was the only man I needed or wanted in my life at the moment. Liza found that hard to understand. She thought I was wasting my youth. I thought I was using my time quite wisely.
My dad and Drew were both in my office waiting for me. Drew already had his things spread across the small conference table that was situated in there. Drawing was one of his favorite activities and I kept a drawer full of art supplies in my desk for him.
My dad greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. “How’s my girl?”
“Eh,” I responded. I’d had better days to be sure.
His eyes narrowed. “Everything okay?”
“I hope so.”
He still looked confused.
I looked to Drew. “Let’s talk about it later,” I said quietly.
He nodded his head and left my side to join Drew.
As I looked at the two of them I sighed. I wasn’t sure what to tell my dad. If I told him the truth, he would have no qualms about tracking down Andrew Turner and tearing into him. Both my parents partly blamed Sydney’s death on Drew’s previously unknown father. Before she delivered they blamed it all on her, but when someone you love dies, all that remains is the good, and she left the best part of herself in Drew.
At times I admit my parents were almost comical when they reminisced about Sydney. Instead of being wild, she’d had unbridled passion that should be admired. She was no longer lazy, but knew how to savor the moments. I guess they forgot about all of the times she called begging for money or when the dean from the community college personally called my parents and told them to quit wasting their money. And about how when she came home eight months pregnant and they told her she wasn’t welcome home, so she came and stayed with me in Boulder. I was finishing up the summer term at CU at the time. I only had one semester left before I finished my undergrad business degree with a minor in history—a weird mixture, I know.
I probably looked back with rose-colored glasses too, but I will never forget the night she made me a mother. Sydney had had practically zero prenatal care, so when she went into labor we had no idea what we were in store for that night. Her placenta had grown too deeply and had attached to her bladder, a condition known as placenta percreta. It’s rare and she should have been monitored, but Sydney never did anything by the book. And it cost her, her life. The doctors tried frantically to save her, but they couldn’t get the hemorrhaging to stop. She didn’t even get to see Drew. Mine were the first arms he was placed into and there he stayed.
I don’t know if there was anyone to blame for what happened to Sydney. I was hones
tly torn about how to feel about it. I missed my best friend and sister more than words could say, but that night I was given the greatest gift and joy I had ever known. I guess maybe that was okay to blame Sydney for. But what about Andrew Turner? Where did he fit into all of this? My hope was that his part was all said and done.
About the Author
Jennifer Peel is the mother of three amazing kiddos. Wife to her one and only for the past twenty-one years. Lover of late night talks, beach vacations, the mountains, pink bubble gum ice cream, tours of model homes, and southern living. She can frequently be found with her laptop on, fingers typing away, indulging in chocolate milk, and writing out the stories that are constantly swirling through her head.
If you enjoyed this book, please rate and review it…
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You can also connect with her on social media:
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Other books by Jennifer Peel:
Other Side of the Wall
The Girl in Seat 24B
Professional Boundaries
House Divided
Trouble in Loveland
The Women of Merryton Series:
Jessie Belle – Book One
The Dating by Design Series:
His Personal Relationship Manager – Book One
To learn more about Jennifer and her books, visit her website at: www.jenniferpeel.com
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