“Are you saying you don’t think it was a coincidence that I ended up working at Freeman Racing?” I asked.
“No. I know you had no idea he even raced much less that he was involved in the company you applied to work for. But, again, think about it from his perspective. You’re gone for three years, you show up at the bar where you met on his birthday, and then you show up at the company his brother owns to work.”
I let out a sigh.
“All right. I can see where that would seem like a lot of dots that connected, but it’s what happened. I can’t help that.” She gave me a look, and my shoulders dropped. “Fine. I can understand why he wants the test. He wants to know for sure. I just wish he wasn’t so blunt. He made it abundantly clear he thinks I might be lying to him just so I can get to his money. It makes me feel sick to my stomach he would think something like that about me.”
“What are you going to do now?” she asked.
“Honestly, I have no idea. None of the options sound particularly good. It’s going to be a bit until the test results are in, and until then, I’m in a holding pattern. They are going to show Darren is her father, of course, but then what? Is he going to want to take her? Will it get nasty with him dragging me to court and putting his family’s lawyers up against me? They have money. They’ll be able to take her.”
“Don’t think about that right now. Just think about what you’re going to do one day at a time,” Kira said. “And how you’re going to make it ok for Willa.”
“Going to work on Monday will be miserable. Not going to work would be unprofessional. Like I said, neither sound particularly good,” I said.
“One day at a time,” she reminded me. “Just think about this weekend and get through that first. Then we’ll figure out work when the time comes.”
I looked down at Willa and immediately knew all I wanted to do for the rest of the weekend was spend time with her. She was the most important thing in my life, and I was willing to go through anything to try to make her life better in whatever way I could. Because she always made my life better. So, for the rest of the weekend, Kira, Willa, and I cuddled in pajamas, ate ice cream, watched movies, and played. It was enough to distract me and not let me dwell on what was ahead.
When I tucked my daughter into bed Sunday night, I knew I had to decide what I was going to do the next morning. Not going into work might have been exactly what Darren wanted, but it was still my career. It was still a position I’d gotten on my own merit, and one I needed in order to take care of Willa properly. Even if I had a sinking feeling going into work was little more than picking up my severance check, I needed to show I was still serious and dedicated to my career.
That morning, I left Willa with Kira and Pam. The two women made fast friends, and I had the feeling Pam was thrilled to find out she had two surrogate daughters and not just one. Just before I walked out of the house, my sister hugged me tightly.
“It’s going to be okay. All of this will work out, and you’re going to be fine,” she whispered.
I wasn’t sure I really believed her, but I thanked her anyway and left for work. I drove there with a heavy sense of dread in my belly. A kind welcome certainly wasn’t on the horizon, but I didn’t want to face the wrath of the entire Freeman family, either. That was something I hadn’t even considered. All this time I’d only been worried about Darren and how he was going to feel about the situation. It wasn’t until he said his mother mentioned a lawyer that I started thinking about his family and how this impacted them, too.
In the time I’d been working at Freeman Racing, I’d really come to like the family. From elegant but warm and welcoming Minnie, to stubborn Gus, to sassy Merry, and even the brothers though I didn’t see them as often. I’d come to feel like part of the family and to really appreciate how much of a family-oriented company they were. Now it was really sinking in how hard it would be for the entire family to find out about the deception. That made the worry about going into work even more pronounced. It wasn’t just discomfort around Darren I needed to dread, but a chilly if not outright hostile reception from all the Freemans.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I immediately noticed Darren’s usual bike wasn’t there. I knew he sometimes chose different ones to drive around, but I didn’t notice any others, either. Heading straight for the garage, I hoped it would be equally empty, but instead found Gus sitting there. He drank coffee slowly and scrolled through something on his computer. I resisted the urge to feel like he was there waiting for me. Not that it mattered. I wouldn’t be able to not talk to him. He felt like the first layer of defense in the family, and I wanted to get through it as fast as I could.
Taking a deep breath, I walked up to him.
“Should I be collecting my things and cleaning out my locker?” I asked.
It was blunt and straight to the point, but I didn’t have the time or the patience to deal with sugarcoating anything right then. I had to know what was going on and if it would compromise the future I was building. Gus handed me a cup of coffee and shook his head.
“No. I’m disappointed, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not directly in the middle of the situation. I’m in the orbit of it, so I guess I can be a bit more objective.” He took another sip of his coffee, and I waited for him to give me some sort of evaluation of what was going on, but he didn’t. He simply closed his computer and lifted his eyebrows at me. “Let’s get to work.”
We worked well together just like we always did, and I was glad no one else came along throughout the rest of the day. I only took half a lunch break, skirting around the edge of the field so I didn’t have to cross through where the family would be eating. Instead, I got back in my car and ate from the bag of food Pam packed for me. It was becoming a tradition and one I wouldn’t turn my back on anytime soon. She was a fantastic cook, and it was nearly as comforting having her cook for me as it would my mother.
We spent the rest of the afternoon putting the final finishing touches on getting Greg’s bike back in one piece. It had been a much bigger undertaking than I’d anticipated and required us to order several parts, break the bike down completely, and rebuild it a couple of times. Gus talked to me about work, but I kept my head down and focused on the task at hand, only talking when I really had to. I figured the more I kept my mouth shut, the less chances I had of rocking the boat.
29
Darren
I might have gone to bed Sunday night feeling like I’d drowned the anger and was mentally better off than I had been for the rest of the weekend, but I woke up Monday morning physically feeling like I’d been hit by a truck, backed over, and hit one more time. Even before I opened my eyes, I could feel the pain. Since I didn’t go out all the time and usually drank only sparingly when I did, having a hangover wasn’t a terribly familiar sensation. Of course, I’d had them before, particularly early in my days of drinking when I was still testing out my tolerance level or attempting to match up with those around me who drank much more. But even when I got drunk like I did at Quentin’s house on family Sundays, usually I didn’t suffer a hangover afterward.
That Monday was a reality check if I’d ever had one. I was lying flat in my bed, yet it felt like the entire world was tossing back and forth. Pain crept in around the edges of my eyes and up the back of my skull, soon taking over my entire head. It felt like somebody had stuffed my brain cavity full of sand and turned on a faucet, gradually soaking it so it expanded and created more intense pressure. I didn’t want to open my eyes. I knew as soon as I did, the pain would be much worse, and I might face getting sick to my stomach. That was just what I needed. Feeling like the world had smashed me down into the ground and jumped around on me for a while because of what Kelly told me, then adding to it the feeling of my stomach sloshing around and wanting to return all the liquor and Colby’s stupid smoothies I drank to its maker.
The phone rang beside me. It sounded like the loudest noise I’ve ever heard in my life and pierced into my ears,
so the pain rocketed through me even harder. My hand flopped around on the bed, trying to find where my phone ended up the night before. I had a vague memory of Nick, Quentin, and Colby getting me into bed and putting my phone under the pillows so I’d have easy access to it. But it wasn’t there. It just kept ringing, seeming to get louder and sharper the more it rang. Finally, I had the sinking realization the phone had slipped down behind my bed, so it now rested on the floor up against the wall. Hanging upside down in the way I had to in order to retrieve the phone was one of the least pleasant experiences of my life. I looked at the screen and saw it was just Vince.
“What do you want?” I asked by way of greeting him.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Dying,” I told him. “But if that’s my goal, I’m doing really well.”
“Don’t come into work today,” he said.
It wasn’t a suggestion or giving me permission to take the day off. It was a direct order, and I could only imagine it’d come down straight from my parents. Even though Quentin technically owned Freeman Racing, it was only because our father had passed it along to him when he decided he wanted to slip slowly into retirement. That was many years ago, and my father was still working almost as much now as he did before he retired. The company belonged to Quentin, but we all knew he wouldn’t defy Dad If it wasn’t for a very pressing reason. Considering keeping me off the complex for now was probably in everybody’s best interest, this wasn’t one of those pressing situations.
“Fine,” I said.
I hung up and shoved my phone back under the pillow. Closing my eyes and pulling the blankets up over my head, I fell back to sleep quickly. I fully intended on that being the way I spent my Monday, but Mom was having none of it. She wouldn’t let me just wallow in misery and the negative effects of pickling myself over the weekend. Instead, she showed up around lunchtime with a massive basket overflowing with food. Just like she did when I had chicken pox as a child, she pulled me up by my elbow to help me sit and propped me up against a stack of pillows. She leaned down to kiss the top of my head, then gave me a look.
“Have you changed your clothes today?” she asked.
“No. But I took a shower last night. The guys forced me into it,” I told her.
“Get up,” she said. “You’ll feel better if you take another shower and put on fresh clothes. I’ll put clean sheets on the bed for you.”
“Mom, I’m a grown man. I don’t need you to put new sheets on my bed,” I argued.
“White or navy blue?” she asked.
“I’m not sick.”
“White or navy blue?”
“White.”
“Good choice. Get in there, get clean, and I’ll have it ready for you when you get out,” she said.
I stood under the hot water until my skin stung, then got out and got dressed in black cotton lounge pants and a T-shirt. It was essentially a different pair of pajamas, but if I called it loungewear, it made it sound like I was just relaxing instead of that I was trying to hide away from the world in my room. Just as she had promised, Mom had fully remade my bed, and the food she’d brought me was spread out on a tray. I got back in bed, and she settled the tray over my lap. I felt ridiculous, but at the same time it was nice being comforted. Part of me worried my family would judge me and somehow put the blame on me for the whole situation. It was a relief to see their sympathy and know they were really on my side.
The exertion of getting up and taking the shower added to the hot temperature of the water and pressing steam of the bathroom made me feel shaky and woozy. The effects of the alcohol were much more intense now, the pain stabbing through both my eyes and down through the middle of my skull. My stomach flipped and turned, sloshing around and never settling. But Mom insisted I eat. It would help me feel better faster. I knew she was right, but I was glad she sat beside me with a small trash can strategically placed within reach while I ate and tried not to throw up.
When I got down the first sandwich, the sick feeling started to dissipate. The second sandwich made me feel tremendously better and brought out my hunger. I finished the last of the sandwiches she brought me along with the heavily salted kettle chips and a container of pasta salad. The sharp vinegary base of the salad cut through more of the sick feeling and helped bring me back to normal. When I was done, I felt well enough to get up, and Mom and I walked out onto my back deck carrying cups of coffee.
“Have you thought about what you want to do?” Mom asked after a few moments of us staring out over the grass.
“I don’t know,” I told her. “There’s so much to think about, and I don’t know what the best decision is.”
“You have the DNA test in. Soon enough, you’ll have the results and know for sure if that little girl is your daughter or not. You’re going to have to know what you want to do about it. Now is the perfect time how to decide how you feel and what you would want to do with either outcome,” she told me.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be thinking or feeling.”
“Exactly,” she said. “Since the results are still unknown, you can explore the feelings of both outcomes. Think about how you would feel if it turned out she wasn’t your daughter and Kelly was lying to you. Now decide how you would take those feelings and turn them into your next action. Then think about how it would be if they come back the opposite. If you are a father, how do you feel about that and what do you want to do?”
“That sounds a lot like homework,” I said.
“You have to be serious about this, Darren. Your life is different now, whichever way those tests go,” she told me.
“Yeah,” I said, taking another sip of my coffee. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Either way, everything is changed now. Nothing could ever go back to the way it was, but some things haven’t changed. I feel like a complete imbecile even admitting this to you, but I still want Kelly. Even with the lie, I still think about her, and I want to know how we would be together,” I admitted.
It was a hard thing for me to put into words and say out loud to my mother, but they needed to be said. It was the complete truth. I was more than halfway in love with Kelly and thought I was rushing toward having that other half fulfilled. I’d been holding a torch for her for three years. Now those feelings took on a completely different meaning.
I didn’t expect my mother to understand how I felt, to think it was okay to still want her. But if there was one thing I should never do when it came to my mother, it was to underestimate her. Rather than getting upset or telling me I was being ridiculous, she reached over and took my hand. She squeezed it gently and looked into my eyes.
“Kelly could have a good reason for why she didn’t tell you. You haven’t even given her the chance to talk it out with you. What you really need to do is just talk to each other like adults,” she said.
They were heavy, impactful words, and I spent the rest of the time she was there tumbling them around in my head, trying to unravel them. After she left, I went into my living room and sat down, not wanting to climb back into bed until it was time to sleep. I sat down and tried my best to work out how I was going to handle everything. Of course, I needed to talk to Kelly. Before I could do that though, I had to find a way to let go of the anger. After that I could find out why she did what she did and see if we could salvage anything of our relationship and ever be more than just co-parents.
But, then again, all of it hinged on the DNA results.
30
Kelly
Darren never showed up to work on Monday, and I really wasn’t all that surprised to not see him on Tuesday, either. But Wednesday loomed large in front of me. I knew there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to avoid seeing him that day. It was a race night, which meant even if he was somehow able to get around being in the garage, I would still see him at the track.
Race days were always chaotic and extremely busy. I ha
d only experienced one firsthand, but Vince’s assurance that they were all like that stuck with me, and I was sure he was right. That Wednesday was setting out to be even more out of control than the one before because skipping out on the first two days of the work week meant Darren didn’t have that time to perfect his bike and do the practice rounds he always did to make sure everything was right. Of course, that meant everything he would have done Monday and Tuesday had to be shoved into Wednesday morning.
I wasn’t looking forward to it. Gus and I were fine with each other, and it seemed Quentin and Vince were on board with a distant acceptance of each other, almost like a stalemate. I could live with that for now, but I had a strong feeling the interaction with Darren was going to be a bit different. When he walked into the garage, my heart jumped, and my mouth went dry. It was the first time I’d seen him since he left my apartment, and my response to him was immediate. I would want to say that reaction was purely frustration and even anger, but that wouldn’t be true. I was still strongly attracted to him, and my first instinct as soon as I saw him was to want to jump into his arms. Even if he was the one causing me the pain and upset, it was still him I wanted to look to for comfort and reassurance. It was an unsettling and unpleasant feeling, and I wanted it to go away as soon as possible.
We managed to work throughout the day without directly interacting with each other. We moved around each other and intervened with what the other was doing through other members of the team. Partway through the afternoon, Darren left the garage without giving any indication of where he was going. He was gone for longer than it would take him to just go get a cup of coffee or use the bathroom, and I was starting to feel frustrated, even put out by the idea he wasn’t working as hard anymore and was perfectly content piling extra work on top of me.
Millionaire Daddy: A Secret Baby Romance (Freeman Brothers Book 2) Page 16
