Frigid Affair

by Jennifer Foor

  With no real answers I had to settle on the fact that he was never coming back. He’d given me Christopher. Even if he was everything I feared, I couldn’t regret that night. I refused to.

  He was ten weeks old before the constant crying finally stopped. I’ll never forget the first night he slept all the way through. I woke to the sun being up and rushed to his bassinet, only to find him smiling at me. From that day on he never got colic again. I couldn’t explain it, nor did I want to.

  At three months he was like a different baby. He smiled at everything, and was attempting to roll over, even though he was still too small to do it.

  It wasn’t just his body changing. His eyes had started revealing what color they’d be, and they weren’t mine. Every time I looked into them I saw his father. A part of me wished I would have found him. Another side of me wanted Christopher all to myself, especially considering what kind of man Easton really was.

  He certainly didn’t want to be found. If for some reason he decided to show his face in my neck of the woods again, I’d be prepared. There was no name listed as father on the birth certificate. I didn’t expect a friendly visit from Easton. He’d given me the greatest gift and I’d be forever grateful for it. It was strange how I’d never wanted my life to turn out this way, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Christopher was perfect. He gave me hope. My once lonely life had been filled with joyful moments again all thanks to a man who swept in and saved my life.

  One day I’d tell my son his father was a hero. In time I’d even tell him his name. If he wanted to seek him out I wouldn’t be able to stop him, not forever. I just prayed the day wouldn’t come. Maybe it was better if he never wanted to be found.

  Chapter 8

  We ended up staying in town for a total of ten months. I got a bit emotional when my new friends helped me move back to my cabin. I would miss seeing familiar faces often.

  Much to my surprise during the drive home, we passed my neighbors newly rebuilt home. It was very different, but still in the same general location. The grass had grown back, and there were no remnants of a fire ever happening there.

  I hadn’t realized how much crap I’d accumulated until we tried to fit it into my small cabin. My upstairs loft had become the nursery. We’d left my bed in the room so I’d be close to Christopher, but I knew I couldn’t stay there forever. I was going to eventually have to build an addition, or seriously consider that move closer to town into something with more square footage.

  Everything in my life had changed. My little cabin in the woods no longer felt like home. I’d outgrown it, and since my son was the most important thing to me, I knew the choice had already been made for me. For now we’d be comfortable, but in time, a couple years at least, we’d find something to accommodate us.

  Christopher’s first year was filled with adventure, at least for the two of us. I documented every single thing he did, taking pictures and adding them to a collection I’d have printed when I visited town again. He was growing by the day, developing the way the books said he would. I’d made sure to take him to the doctors before we were unable to travel. The first winter we spent back on top the mountain was horrifying for me. I worried about everything, and even began looking for realtors so I could sell my place and get one closer to civilization.

  Things didn’t get better once he started walking. He was curious and too smart for his little body. In my eyes, he was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen. His light toned baby blues were captivating, and already I wondered how many women would get swept off their feet when in his presence.

  My son dating was years away, but time was slipping by too quickly now. It seemed like I’d recently had a one-night-stand, and now there was a child running around. They say time flies when you’re having fun. I guess that saying applies to sleepless nights and overactive bladders as well.

  Our first winter went by without a hitch. The solar panels managed to give us enough electricity to manage without troubles. I’d gotten accustom to living an easy life, but I had to admit it was hard to picture a future in the home I’d built to start over.

  Many nights, after Christopher was fast asleep I thought about Easton. I wondered if my neighbors were right. Then a part of me hoped they weren’t. It was highly unlikely for me to ever see him again. Obviously, whoever he was, he was long gone. As hard as it was to consider, I also appreciated that I could be selfish with my little guy.

  Despite the fact that I was settled on raising Christopher by myself, my heart still ached for a complete family. I’d been so close to my father. Even when I went through prissy phases, he was always my idol. There was no place safer than in my father’s arms. He’d always been my rock, no matter what I’d gotten myself into. I’d always dreamed of having a family like ours; marrying a man who would love our children as much as my father did his own kids. I hated considering that I’d created a life with a man who’d want nothing to do with his baby. Every time I looked into my little boy’s eyes my heart hurt for him. One day he’d ask me why he didn’t have a father.

  One day I’d have to find the courage to tell him the truth, even if I knew it would always be an unknown.

  I’d never expected the amount of emotions I’d go through after becoming a mother. More than anything in the world I wished I could call mine and ask her for advice.

  I cried a lot.

  Truth be told, I was scared I wouldn’t be a good mom. I was afraid I’d fail and lose Christopher too. Every single time he said a new word I would tear up. When he recognized something he loved, I’d lose my shit.

  He made me feel like I was a basket case, and on most days I was kind of okay with it. Honestly, who was there to judge me?

  No one.

  Doctors would say I had a case of post partum depression that had never been treated. As much as I wanted to agree it was the only reason for my sad mood swings, I knew there was just too much pain in my past to be able to see the bright side of things.

  For a while I kept my cell phone fully charged and on. I needed to know my lifeline to the real world was ready to be used, just in case I needed it.

  When I managed to sleep, I had terrible dreams of something happening to my child, or me. I would dream a bear would attack me while I was outside gathering wood for the fire, all while Christopher was inside the home alone. Once I dreamed my body rotted outside while he starved to death. Another instance the bear got into the house. I woke up before I witnessed what it did to my precious baby.

  No matter how positive I attempted to be, there was always fear looming in the back of my mind.

  For someone who used to love being alone, I now hated it. I longed for companionship, or at least a friend to be there when times were tough.

  I thought moving to a remote Alaskan location was where I needed to live out the rest of my life. I never expected someone would be born and rely on me to stay alive. No longer could I be selfish and in denial. I’d left Pennsylvania to hide from the past. I couldn’t face the truth. Now I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror and recognize the woman staring back in the reflection.

  I needed my life to change; not just for Christopher, but for my own livelihood and sanity.

  Let’s face it, being a mountain woman wasn’t at all what it was cracked up to be.

  Chapter 9

  Having a fifteen month old baby while living in the middle of nowhere was a trying task, especially without a companion to help with the daily chores. The first snow of the year had come early, and even though I thought I'd been prepared, I knew problems would arise. They always did.

  My beautiful second floor deck had some soft boards, making me fear it wasn't safe for me to venture out on, especially with Ava and baby Christopher. Ever since he'd been crawling I'd had to put up a foam barrier‎ to prevent him from going through the railing. I'd also laid out a carpet and put safety bumpers throughout the space to prevent injury. The poor child could get a bruise on his face from falling on his butt. I certainl
y couldn't explain the amount of injuries he inflicted on himself.

  Now that he was walking, more like running, he was into everything.

  While he was taking his afternoon nap, I ventured onto the deck to assess the damage, hopefully figuring out a temporary fix so we could still get fresh air without coming into close contact with a wild animal. I’d always loved the deck, especially because it was on the second level. The picturesque views were an added bonus.

  First I swept the area and pulled back the rug. Then I applied pressure to the area to see how flimsy it was without anything on it. Thankfully, only two boards were beginning to rot. I knew I had enough to repair the problem in the shed, but would have to put my snow gear on to make it across the yard‎.

  I snuck back in the house, making sure I didn't wake up Christopher. He'd given me a fit when it was time for his nap, and I knew without the proper amount of rest he'd been a terror.

  I'd always respected single mothers, but once I had a child of my own I understood just how difficult it was to raise a child by myself. I didn't have friends or neighbors willing to take him to give me a break. Wherever I went, he had to go. Having an almost toddler while living in the middle of nowhere was a trying task, especially without a companion to help with the daily chores.

  While gathering a large piece of plywood to use to cover the damaged spot, I heard something approaching from down the mountain. I turned to spot a large male figure heading in my direction on a snow mobile. Since I lived in the middle of nowhere, this was absurd to think they’d come out of nowhere. There had to be a reason for this visit.

  I made it almost back to the stairs before he came to a stop and pulled off his helmet.

  Easton.

  It couldn’t be.

  Not now.

  Not when I’d carried his child and done it all on my own.

  Not when the result of our one-night-stand was only yards away.

  He was my secret to keep. This couldn’t be happening.

  It had been two long years since I'd seen his face. With regard to my sleeping child inside the cabin, I hurried over to where he stood.

  Since our last encounter, I’d learned more than I wanted to know about the stranger I’d let into my bed. "Easton. I didn't think I'd see you again."

  He didn't seem like it was a happy reunion. His face contorted and I swore I sensed regret. "Yeah, to be honest I didn’t think I’d come back. I wasn't exactly straight forward with you before, Amantha. It's taken me two years to try to figure out how I let things go as far as they did. I took that trip for closure, but it only made my life more complicated."

  I was astonished he'd come all this way to tell me I was some kind of mistake. If he was talking about me and not the crimes he and his friends had committed he was about to get an ear full. "You have a lot of nerve coming back here then. If it makes you feel any better, it was just a night of fucking. Being with you meant nothing to me, so you can turn around and forget we ever met."

  He remained where he was, shaking his head as if his body wouldn't let him leave. "You don't understand. You think I came all this way for nothing?"

  I pointed at him. "You need to start explaining before I go back inside and lock my damn doors. I'm not in the mood to listen to this shit." I also wasn't taking the chance that he'd discover what was sleeping in the cabin. If this guy came to tell me I was a waste of time, or that he was wanted in fifty states, he surely wasn't going near my son. Blood or not, they had no ties to each other, especially now.

  "Can we go inside and talk where it's warm?"

  My eyes widened as I replied. "I'm perfectly capable out here alone."

  I saw him scanning the yard, fearing he was seeing a few toddler toys scattered around the vicinity. "Fine." His hands went into the pockets of his heavy coat.‎ "Saying this is going to be harsh, but I know I can't move on with my life until I get it out. I should have said this the night we met, but the situation changed when I found you inside that burning house. I couldn’t let you die, Amantha. Everything that happened afterwards was unexpected."

  "Stop speaking in riddles and spit it out. I'm sure there's nothing you can say that will hurt me. We had a one-night-stand‎ not a relationship. It was a fun night and then it ended."

  "Like I said before," he interrupted. "It shouldn't have played out that way."

  "In ten seconds I'm going inside and locking my doors. I know you and your friends stole from my neighbors. I know you’re not a fireman. I’ve done my homework, Easton."

  "My name isn't Easton," he blurted out.

  That statement was enough to silence me.

  "I had to lie about my name, even to the guys I was staying with. I couldn't take the chance that they knew you."

  By this point my knees were shaking. No longer was I angry that I was some kind of mistake. What this guy was implying was that he'd known me before the fire. I stopped thinking about the theft, or what my neighbors were accusing him of. I had to know how he knew who I was. "Why? Who the hell are you?”

  He paused, took in a deep breath, and then finally replied in a sorrowful tone. “My name is Jensen Weatherly.”

  Right when he said it I knew there was something familiar, though it took me a few more seconds to put two and two together.

  Jensen Weatherly. I kept repeating it in my head. How did I know this name? Why was he telling me as if I was suppose to know?

  When the truth hit me I almost lost my ability to remain standing.

  It wasn’t his first name that I recognized. It was the last.

  I struggled to respond. “Alice Weatherly? Is that why you’re here? Are you related to the person who drove onto the tracks that caused the train wreck?” It wasn’t possible. It had to be a coincidence. But if that was so, how in the world would he have known who I was? Why did he make the trip to see me? Why would he lie about his name? What the hell was he doing in Alaska?

  His eyes were pained as he struggled to talk about it. “Amantha, she was my wife.”

  I dropped the wood and brought one hand up to my mouth. “No. That’s not…”

  “Just let me explain. Give me five minutes. Please. I came all this way. I need you to hear me out.”

  I began shaking my head, as well as other extremities. “No.” I pointed. “You need to leave, right now. I want you off my property.”

  “Amantha, I can’t.”

  “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. Get out of here.” His visit was a waste of time. I hated him. He’d lied to me, repeatedly. He’d made me think I was some weak victim, when there was probably nothing wrong with me.

  How could I have been so naïve to think a saint of a man would fall from the Alaskan sky during a blizzard?

  I was fighting the tears from falling down my face. He’d taken advantage of me. I’d probably never understand why he’d come, but I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.

  This hurt.

  This was like waking up after a good dream to your house being blown to smithereens by a tornado.

  Now more than ever, I needed to get him off my property. He couldn’t know about Christopher. That child was mine, and I wouldn’t let some con-artist anywhere near him.

  “I think you need to hear me out. Don’t you want closure?”

  Since running away to start over I’d assumed I had enough closure, at least to get me through the rest of my life. I’d lost everything, only to start over with Christopher. This man, whoever he was, posed a direct threat to my livelihood. If he discovered his child was only yards away, the consequences could be devastating for me. “I’m not going to ask again. If you don’t turn around and start moving I’m getting my gun. You’ll never be anything more than a liar to me. Never.”

  He threw up both hands, his pained eyes never leaving mine. “Fine. I can understand why you’re angry. I’ve been beating myself up for two years about it. I tried to visit last year, but you weren’t here. Your cabin was closed up. I thought you might have moved away.”
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  “Where I went was none of your business. Like I said before, we’re done here.”

  He began backing away. “I get it. I know I fucked up, but in all fairness, you didn’t give me much choice when I found you in that house. I refused to let you die, not before I made sure you were okay.”

  “Oh, is that what guys like you call what you did?”

  “I saved your life!”

  “You lied to me from the moment you opened your mouth. I let you into my home, my pants even. Clearly you let me believe the lie to make that happen.”

  He kept shaking his head, coming off as if I didn’t understand some big picture. I had my own dire reasoning for making sure he exited promptly and never came back.

  “I’m sorry, Amantha. I really am. I wish I regretted feeling you in my arms that night. You’ll never know what it was like to be with you; to be with anyone.”

  After he said it he left without further explanation. I was too flustered to consider it had meaning, not that I would have even contemplated retracting my threats. This was no longer about me and my wellbeing. My son was my world. My whole life revolved around him. Biological father or not, that man wasn’t going to step foot in my home and think about taking him away from me. I’d commit murder before I let that happen.

  Chapter 10

  It took me nearly five minutes to realize he hadn’t appeared out of nowhere. If Easton, or Jensen, whatever his name this time was staying close, there was only one place it could be. There was snow on the ground, and since my neighbor’s house was about a quarter mile down the mountain, I figured he’d come from there.

  I wasted no time locating my cell phone and turning it on. Then with shaking fingers I called my neighbors. They were in Florida for the winter and would want to know one of the so-called fireman were back for more goods.