One More Chance: A Secret Baby Second Chance Romance

by Amy Brent

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” I asked.

  “No. Mom was cooking, but then she stopped and told me I was going to the game with you.”

  “What was Mom cooking?”

  “Lasagna.”

  “Do you like lasagna?”

  “Oh yeah, especially Mom’s. She makes it homemade, and it’s awesome.”

  “Your mother makes homemade lasagna,” I said.

  “You should come over and try it. It’s really good,” he said, smiling.

  The thought of Ana slaving away in a kitchen with those curves of hers tugged at a part of me. I pushed the thought away as we drove to the baseball game. Then we parked and got out of the car. I held tightly to Brody’s hand, making sure I didn’t lose him in the crowd. And I quickly came to realize why this had made Ana so nervous.

  My mind started spinning in a thousand different directions. There were so many threats to Brody: people who could take him and things he could run into, food he could choke on or that could make him sick if not cooked properly. The anxiety almost left me breathless, and it forced me to pick my son up and walk him through the gate.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yep. The crowd’s just moving fast. I figured you might like this,” I said.

  “I do,” he said as his head fell to my shoulder.

  I held him close as I carried him to our stadium seats. I didn’t want to let go of my son. I didn't want the moment to disappear. I set him down and he slid from my body, then climbed into his seat next to me.

  And the way his eyes lit up made my chest fill with pride.

  “Wow! It’s so big,” he said.

  “It is a big field.”

  “How long is the game?”

  “About three or so hours,” I said.

  “Wow. We’re going to need a lot of food.”

  “Which is why I’m about to get us some.”

  I thrust my hand into the air and waved my wallet around to get the vendors’ attention. By the time I was done, Brody and I had hot dogs, pretzels, nachos with cheese, and two massive slushies brought to us on a whim. We spread our legs and ate our fill, and I watched as Brody took in the crowd around him and the stadium. He hummed over his food and covered his face with ketchup.

  “Here. Let me help you with that,” I said.

  I took a napkin to his face and wiped him down. He turned toward me and smiled, his eyes lighting up when I smiled back. My boy. My sweet, beautiful boy.

  A boy I had missed eight years with.

  I smoothed my thumb over his cheek before he turned his attention back to the field, stuffing his face with the hot dog in his hand. He was the most beautiful thing in the world to me.

  The game was a blast. We filled up on food and launched out of our chairs every time the Dodgers made a home run. Brody stood on my lap and climbed onto my shoulders, cheering for a team I loved dearly. He clapped his hands and laughter fell from his lips. He asked me questions about the game, and I got to explain to him what all the positions were, what the bases were for, and all the rules of the game.

  And the happiness that poured over him was something I would never forget.

  “Awww, that was a dumb call, ref!”

  I laughed at Brody’s exclamation as the game started to wind down. The game was tied, and the Dodgers had one last chance to win this thing. I sat on the edge of my seat with Brody in my lap, my chin on his shoulder. I felt his legs jiggling. I felt his muscles tensing. He was entranced with the game in front of us, and the second the bat connected with the ball, he started screaming.

  “Run! Run! Go home! Come on! Ruuuuuun!”

  We got to our feet the second the man slid toward the home plate. We yelled and cried out as I put my son on my shoulders. The ball went out of the park and two other players came running home, bumping chests and clapping as their score ticked up.

  The Dodgers had won, and Brody was ecstatic.

  “They won, Daddy! They won the game!”

  My body froze at that word again as he climbed down from my shoulders. He stood and jumped up and down, clapping and hollering along with the rest of the crowd. And I stood there, watching my son have the time of his life.

  Daddy.

  I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to the title.

  My son threw his arms around me, and I picked him up. His smile was massive, stuffed in the crook of my neck. I rubbed his back as he yawned while the crowd dispersed around us. The game was over, the sun had set, and our first official baseball game as father and son had come to a close.

  “Thank you so much, Dad.”

  Tears rose to my eyes as I grabbed the jacket Ana had sent him with.

  “You’re so welcome, Son. I’m glad you had fun,” I said.

  “Are we going home now?”

  I drew in a deep breath as I scaled the stadium steps.

  “I’m taking you home, yes.”

  “When will you stay?”

  My heart ached at his question as I made my way to the exit.

  “I’ll figure it out soon. Okay?” I asked.

  He yawned. “Okay.”

  Brody didn’t even make it back to his house before he fell asleep. I dropped him off with Ana, and the entire ride back to my house was filled with that one question.

  When will you stay?

  I had no idea how to answer that question, and my fear was that I never would be able to.

  Ana

  “Aunt Kristi, the game was awesome. The Dodgers won by, like, three runs. And they kept sliding into the plates and getting all dirty. I ate a pretzel and a hot dog and drank an entire slushy all by myself.”

  “Sounds like you had a good time, kiddo,” she said.

  “I got to scream really loud and clap a lot. And Daddy put me on his shoulders.”

  “What did you say?” I asked.

  “Daddy put me on his shoulders, Mom. It was awesome. I was really high up.”

  That word hit me like a ton of bricks. He was already calling Tyler Daddy?

  Why did that bother me?

  “What else did you do?” Kristi asked as she cast me a weird look.

  “We got ice cream, but we got it before all the other food. Mom doesn’t let me do that, so that was really awesome. Daddy’s the best. And I got to see lots of home runs. Those guys were really strong. I kind of want to try to play baseball now. I think I’m going to ask Daddy if he’ll teach me.”

  I listened to Brody ramble on about his time with Tyler, and it made me ache. It felt like I had been replaced. I had never heard Brody talk about me that way. He was becoming the fun parent and I was becoming the mean parent, the one who disciplined while Tyler got to spoil him. I didn’t like that dynamic. I didn’t like feeling replaced.

  “Well, it sounds like you had an awesome time with your dad,” Kristi said.

  “I want to see him again soon. I hope he calls. I’ve been waiting for him to call.”

  “Why don’t you call him?”

  “I can do that?”

  “Sure. I’m sure if you ask your mom, she’ll let you call him.”

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?” I asked.

  “Can I call Dad?”

  “I think he’s at work right now, but we’ll try after he gets off work, okay?” I asked.

  Kristi narrowed her eyes at me, but I ignored her look. However, calling Tyler did sound like a good idea. It had been a couple weeks since his mother was admitted into the hospital, and I figured I should check on him and see how he was doing.

  After all, I was supposed to be fighting for him.

  “Kristi, can you watch the register for a second? I’ll be right back,” I said.

  “Don’t take too long. We’re about to hit our rush hour.”

  “I know. I’ll only be a second.”

  I dipped into the stockroom and pulled out my phone. I dialed Tyler’s number as I leaned against the wall, preparing myself for a brief and clipped conversation. I knew he didn’t want to talk with
me and that I was the last person he wanted to hear from.

  But maybe if he knew how concerned I was about his mother, he’d talk with me a little bit.

  “Yep?”

  I furrowed my brow at the way he picked up the phone.

  “Tyler, hey. It’s Ana.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “Oh. Well, um…” I was already bothered by the way he had started the conversation.

  “What is it, Ana? Is something wrong with Brody?”

  “No. Um, no. He’s fine,” I said.

  “Then why are you calling? I’m about to go into a meeting.”

  His curtness made me upset. So he didn’t give a damn if I was calling him unless it had something to do with Brody? What if something was wrong with me, the mother of his child? The woman he had proclaimed to love? Had he been lying? Did he not love me at all?

  I was beginning to think that was the case.

  “Ana, I don’t have a lot of time.”

  “It wasn’t important. Talk to you later,” I said. Then I hung up the phone and held back my tears.

  Fuck him. If this was how things were going to be, then this was how things were going to be. So long as he was in Brody’s life, I guessed that was all I could ask for. He could hurt me as much as he wanted, but he sure as hell couldn’t hurt his son.

  The second he did, I’d see him in court.

  “Ana? You okay?”

  “Yep. Coming out. Sorry,” I said.

  But Kristi came barging in before I could open the door.

  “Where’s Brody?” I asked.

  “Jasmine came in. Brody’s talking her ear off about the baseball game.”

  “Nice to know he has a new favorite parent.”

  “Don’t play that game. You know that’s not true.”

  “Well, I can’t help but feel that way. He never talks about me that way, about anything we do that way,” I said.

  “He does to me.”

  “Oh yeah? And when was that?”

  “You can’t compare yourself to Tyler. It’s a different parenting tactic and a different ball game altogether.”

  “Really? Puns? Are you serious right now?”

  “I figured I’d get at least one in. Look, I don’t know what the hell’s going on with you, but you need to cut it out. You can’t control what Tyler does or how he feels, but you can control yourself. I know you’re going through a rough time, but eventually Brody’s going to sense what is going on between you and Tyler. And the second he does, he’s going to want his mother to comfort him.”

  “Or his new best friend.”

  “The bond between a father and a son is different than the bond between a mother and a son. And some would argue that the bond you have with Brody is always going to be stronger. You carried him. You’re the one raising him. Yes, he’s having a good time with Tyler. Don’t you want him to?”

  “I do.”

  “Don’t you want him to enjoy time with his father, which he hasn’t gotten to have until now?”

  “I do.”

  “That doesn’t mean your son doesn’t love you, Ana. It means he’s enjoying his time with his dad. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It isn’t personal. As this relationship between Brody and Tyler grows, he’s going to want to talk with you about it. So emotionally brace yourself for that, because if you make him feel guilty for having a relationship with his father, he’s going to resent you for it.”

  “I called Tyler to talk to him about how his mother is doing and he didn’t even want to talk with me. I mean, he couldn’t possibly have been more dismissive of the fact that I was calling. I’m the mother of his child. I’m the one who’s done this alone for eight years. Doesn’t that mean anything to him?” I asked.

  “A decision you made willingly. You have to put this behind you, Ana.”

  “And what about him, Kristi? Who’s telling him to put all this behind him? Everyone wants to tell me to be strong and buck up and be the adult, but what about him? I was calling to ask about his mother because I care about him because I love him despite all of this. Who’s telling him to give a shit about the woman who bore his son, huh?”

  “Maybe everyone. Maybe no one. That doesn’t excuse your behavior, though.”

  “Does it excuse my feelings? Am I supposed to stuff those down, too, and act like nothing’s wrong?” I asked.

  “No. That’s why you have me.”

  “Well talking with you hasn’t gotten me anywhere lately.”

  “Hey, don’t get mad at me because you don’t like the consequences of your actions. I’ve always got your back. And if that man ever comes at you publicly, I’ll have your back then, too. But in private? You’ve got the truth or nothing at all from me.”

  “Then I would appreciate nothing at all right now.”

  “You can be upset, just like he can be upset. And you can be hurt, just like he can be hurt. So, I’ll leave you with this: Suck it up and don’t stop trying to get him back. If he is what you want, then work for him the way he worked for you. But if this is all it takes for you to give up on the man you claim to love, then you need to check yourself. Because you don't love him at all if it’s this easy for you to leave.”

  Kristi slammed out of the stockroom, and I kicked a bunch of empty boxes on the floor. I had nothing else to throw my anger at, nothing else to throw my depression at. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I couldn’t think about anything else except the hurt I had caused everyone around me. I’d fucked up in more ways than I could count, and it felt like I was still falling, still spiraling. Still not at the end of the havoc that had been unleashed on my life.

  I sat down in a chair and put my head in my hands, openly sobbing as my chest jumped with my heaves. I hadn’t thought I could hurt as much as I did in that very moment.

  I knew Kristi was right. Fucking hell, she was always right. But the hurt was immense. Vomit rose up my throat, and I stood up from the chair, rushing to the employee bathroom in the corner. I fell to my knees and thrust my face into the toilet bowl, vomiting up the one meal I’d forced myself to eat all weekend. Breakfast and coffee came up, filling the water in front of me as tears streamed down my face.

  “That’s it. It’s okay. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

  I heard Kristi’s voice behind me as something cold came down on my neck.

  “Get it all out. You need to. You’ve kept it all inside for far too long.”

  “He’ll never—c-c-come back.”

  “Yes, he will. Just give him time.”

  “He’ll never—l-love me.”

  “He does love you, Ana. I swear he does.”

  “It hurts—so much—I can’t—”

  I continued to heave even though there was nothing there.

  “I’ve got you,” Kristi whispered. “No matter what, I’ll always have you.”

  I spit into the toilet before I flushed it, then sat on my ass. Kristi threaded her arm around me and pulled me close, sinking my soiled cheek onto her shoulder. She kissed the top of my head as I continued to cry, unleashing eight years of stress, sadness, and exhaustion. Everything I had never coped with—everything I had never addressed—poured through my eyes and onto her shoulder as she whispered sweet nothings in my ear.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe with me. Brody’s fine. He’s eating a snack with Jasmine. You’re the greatest mother I know. You’ll get through this like you always do.”

  The only thing I could think was that I wished Tyler was the one comforting me. I wished Tyler was the one saying those things. I wished Tyler was the one kissing the top of my head.

  Which made me feel even worse.

  Tyler

  I sat in my office and stared out the window. I should’ve called Ana back the other day, but she couldn’t have called at a worse possible time. I hadn’t really been meeting with a client. I had been in the middle of my mother’s doctor telling me that neither I or my father was a match for my mother.

 
; Which meant all we could do was sit back and hope that a donor came along. And with my mother’s penchant for alcohol and no precedent set that she wanted to get better, she was at the bottom of the transplant list for livers that became available.

  The situation looked bleak.

  I just didn’t know what to do. As I sat there with my hands cupped over my mouth, I didn’t know what my next move was. Did I call Ana like I wanted to and talk with her about it? Did I start a local search on my own for a liver donor? Did I bribe the doctors to try to get her up the damn list?

  While I didn’t know what I could do, I knew what I wanted to do.

  I wanted Brody to meet his grandmother. I wanted my mother to meet him before she passed away—in case she did. I didn’t want Brody to grow up thinking he only had one set of grandparents who would love him and care for him. I wanted him to know that my parents would accept him and cherish him just like Ana’s parents did.

  I swiveled around in my chair and slid my paperwork into my briefcase, not caring if it got messed up. It could look however it wanted while going into my file cabinets.

  Then I set off for the hospital.

  I had no idea how my parents were going to react to my having a child, but I knew one thing: my mother would be pissed. For some reason, she had never been a fan of Ana in the first place. I blamed it on the alcohol clouding her judgment, but I knew breaking this kind of news to her wouldn’t go over well. I called my dad from the car and told him I was on my way, that I had big news I wanted to talk to both of them about.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was holding my mother’s hand while she lay there in her bed.

  “What’s going on, Son? What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Sobriety looks good on you, Mom,” I said.

  “It doesn’t feel very good, but thank you,” she said.

  “Sweetheart,” my father warned.

  “It was just a joke. Now talk to me. What is this news you have for us?” she asked.

  “I don’t really know where to start, so I guess I’ll come right out and say it. You guys remember Ana? From high school?”

  “The girl you dated. Sure,” my father said.

  “What about her?” my mother asked.