A few minutes later, he proved me wrong. Darren came back into the garage, this time helping Greg manage his crutches. He said a few encouraging words to us and talked about how much he wished he could be out on the track that night as well. It was fantastic to see him, and it gave us another boost of excitement and motivation, just like his last visit. This gave me the thought that Greg was now our mascot. The idea made me laugh, but the words never made it out of my mouth. There was no one to share it with, and I had to just keep my head down and keep doing my job. The only acknowledgement I got from Darren all day was one nod in my direction, and I didn’t respond to it. It was easier if I just did what he told me and stayed out of his way.
We loaded everything up into the trucks and headed to the racetrack. Just like last race, there was a tailgate party ahead of time, and Merry had arranged for a special appearance by Greg. I was sure there were plenty of fans who were overloaded with excitement at the idea of being able to meet him and talk about his accident. That felt exploitive, but Greg didn’t mind and even looked forward to being able to reach out to people who enjoyed seeing him race. But that also meant Darren would need to be at the party for longer so he could meet people and sign autographs the way he had before. Rather than going to the party this time, I went straight down to the track and started unloading the trucks. That’s when he finally came to talk to me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Darren coming toward me. His body language wasn’t welcoming. He wasn’t holding himself like a man excited to start exploring what it was to be a family. Or even excited just to talk to me. Not that I blamed him. I wasn’t exactly excited to talk to him, either. I hated to think it and wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but I missed him. Talking to him now, though, just seemed like a lead-in to an argument.
“Jane said the lab will have the results soon. She’s going to get in touch with me as soon as they are available, and we can go over them. We should set up a time to talk in a neutral space. Probably without the little one,” he said.
“A neutral space?” I asked. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I just think it would be better if we didn’t meet at your place or mine to discuss the results and what they’ll mean for us moving forward. It would be better for everyone involved, in many different ways, if we meet somewhere that isn’t home turf for either one of us where we can talk openly.”
I totally agreed. The idea of being in either one of our homes wasn’t appealing. Whichever home we ended up in, that person would feel like they had the power and it would feel off-balance and skewed. Choosing somewhere without a particular link to either one of us meant we could have a mature, purposeful, and productive conversation. I just really hoped Darren and I could keep up with our dedication to not get lawyers involved. For several reasons, not the least of which was I simply couldn’t afford one. I had no interest in splashing out a huge amount of money just to have somebody argue about why my daughter should be with me.
“Absolutely. You pick a place and let me know when you want to meet,” I told him.
I wasn’t the biggest fan of sounding like I was completely handing over control to him, but he knew the area better and would be able to find a place perfect for what we needed. He left and I let out a long breath that felt like I’d been holding it the entire time. Turning back to the tent, I joined Greg and Gus and tried to lose myself in work rather than think about what just happened.
As much as I tried not to let it be that way, watching this race was even harder than the last one after Greg crashed. The fear and anxiety were there just like they were before, the trauma of watching Greg hit the track making me worry about Darren. But it was more than that. As I stood there watching him, I could see him getting more aggressive. He pushed his bike to top speed and took tremendous risks moving around other racers. When the got to the front of the pack, he shot ahead of his competitors and took turns far too tightly.
It was all to maintain his position, which I understood was the intention of the race, but it made my heart leap into my throat and I felt sick the entire time. He took a particularly sharp slice across the track and narrowly escaped his bike tire getting clipped by the rider behind him.
“Holy shit,” I blurted out, whipping around so my back was briefly to the track.
It was an impulsive, unprofessional reaction I shouldn’t have let happen, but I couldn’t help it. Around me the rest of the crew was freaking out a little, too, and I hoped they were so wrapped up in the race they didn’t notice how strongly I reacted. But when I glanced back at Gus, he stared at me with knowing eyes. Guilt came over me again. I was thankful for the way Gus was treating me after everything went down, but that didn’t release me from feeling awful about how this was all unfolding.
I never wanted it to be this way. Telling Darren the news wasn’t going to create an instantly joyful moment, I had known that. I didn’t expect him to suddenly sweep Willa up into his arms and swing her around like in a slow-motion commercial. It was going to be difficult. It was going to be confusing, and there would be some challenges both of us would have to overcome. But I didn’t think it would be like this. I never would have imagined I would already be attached to his family when the truth came out and wouldn’t just be intruding on his life, but on theirs as well.
Even worse, I didn’t know I’d be attached to him. Of course I had feelings for him. They never really went away. But I didn’t think they would be so much stronger when I finally told him. That made this all so much harder. Darren got me thinking we could have a real relationship, but now I had no idea. Everything was up in the air and all of it was my own damn fault.
The last few laps of the race left me feeling like I was going to have a heart attack. Darren’s racing got more aggressive and risky, and the rest of the riders responded in kind. The tension built higher and higher until the muscles of my neck and shoulders ached and my hands were clenched so tightly my fingernails cut into my palms. Finally, the bikes shot over the finish line and the race was over. My body relaxed and a sense of relief flowed over me. I wasn’t glad because Darren had won the race. That barely even registered in my mind. Instead, I was just happy the race was over, and Darren was safe. He was off his bike, and I didn’t have to worry about him crashing anymore.
The rest of the team rushed to congratulate him and participate in the celebratory ceremony, but I stayed back. I didn’t need to be a part of any of that. It’s not like anyone wanted me over there, anyway. Starting to pack everything up would save the rest of the team time and let them get to their traditional party at the bar. More importantly, it would get me back home to my sister and Willa. That’s all I wanted right then.
31
Darren
The victory at the last race didn’t give me nearly as much satisfaction as usual. I fought my way through it more to get out my adrenaline and energy than for any sense of achievement or accomplishment that came from zooming over the finish line at the front of the pack. The whole time I only had two things on my mind. Greg should have been racing right alongside me, and the results of the DNA test should be in soon. Having those thoughts tumble around in my head was enough to make me much more aggressive and intense than I usually was. I didn’t even care. The risks didn’t matter to me. I wanted the rush and had no interest in playing nice.
It was customary for Quentin to give the team a day or two off after a victory, which was good for those who left the track and went right for the bar for a few rounds of celebration. After the break we went right back to the compound, and it was business as usual. There wasn’t the usual high after a victory. In fact, it almost felt like the lull after a loss when everyone had their heads down and were digging in to try to figure out what happened and improve it for the next race. I was in the garage working on my bike. Just like I did after every race, I had fully dismantled the machine and was carefully going over each of the parts to detect any issues and see what might need to be repaired or replaced.
From where it was sitting open on a stool nearby, my computer dinged, alerting me to a new email. Assuming it was going to be from a commission client or a supplier, I glanced over, ready to set it aside and deal with it later. Instead, I saw the return email was from Jane, Colby’s sister. My breath caught in my throat, and I set down my tools. Either way, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to open the message with a ratchet in my hand.
Bracing myself for whatever information the email contained, I wiped my hands off on my jeans and clicked the message. The message was cursory, telling me she had attached a copy of the results report. I paused for just a second before opening the attachment. As soon as I did, my throat felt like it was closing. I choked on my own spit, suddenly unable to swallow or catch my breath. I read through it again, just to make sure I had it right. Maybe I read it wrong. Maybe it didn’t say what I thought it did. But no matter how many times my eyes scanned over the results, they were the same.
Suddenly my stomach clenched, and I doubled over. My knees buckled, and I ended up in a deep crouch, bent over my thighs and gripping the edge of the table in front of me for support so I didn’t end up on my ass on the floor. I tried to catch my breath and squeezed my eyes closed to stop the spots from dancing in front of my eyes.
“Darren?” my father called out from where he was on the other side of the garage. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”
I waved my hand, shaking my head to try to show him I was fine. He accepted it and went back to work, but I noticed his eyes flash over to me a few more times like he was gauging if I was recovering. I drew in a few deep breaths to let out the initial shock. When I was calm, I pulled up an email to Kelly’s work address and attached the results to it. I spent a few seconds trying to come up with some sort of message to put in the email but couldn’t come up with any words that seemed right. This wasn’t the kind of situation they made greeting cards for. I gave up on the message and sent the email through without anything in the body.
Still aware that my father was checking in on me every few seconds, I went back to work. But I kept my eyes lifted just enough so I could watch Kelly. She had done just what I’d asked her to and was steering clear of me. We hadn’t even exchanged words or fully looked at each other since right before the race. We couldn’t avoid working in the same area, but she’d managed to carve out a space in the far corner where she could work on projects without having to interact with me. From my angle I was able to watch her and see her notice when her phone let out an alert that told her my email had arrived.
She put down the tool she was using and reached over for her phone. It was a casual gesture, the expression on her face completely at rest as if she had no indication of anything about to happen. She probably thought it was just a message from her sister, perhaps a picture of the little girl playing. Her expression changed sharply when she looked at the screen. I could only imagine she was seeing my name on the email the same way I saw Jane’s when I first received the results. She leaned back against a table on the wall and opened the email. She read it and looked directly over at me. I didn’t bother to pretend I wasn’t staring at her. I nodded, acknowledging not just that she got the message, but also that I understood the results and was ready to move ahead.
It was time. We needed to hash this out and figure out our next steps. I honestly didn’t know what to think or feel, or how I wanted to move forward, exactly. All I knew was in an instant I’d become a father, and that totally changed my world. No matter how I decided to react or what we were going to do about it, nothing would ever change my knowledge that there was a little girl out in the world named Willa who was half mine. I’d helped create her, and that was irrevocable. In that instant, I was changed, and nothing would ever change me back. All that was left was to figure out how I’d move forward in this new life in front of me.
Kelly quickly closed the email on her phone and put it back on the table. Without saying anything, she went back to work. Keeping her head down, she disappeared into her work for the rest of the day. She barely left that spot. When she did it was only to go the bathroom and back. When Quentin called to let us know that he’d ordered lunch, she shook her head, shrugging off my father’s invitation to come down and eat with everybody. Dad tried to encourage her, but she murmured something I couldn’t hear to him and stayed where she was. When we came back, he brought her one of the box lunches they’d ordered. She thanked him and carried it outside. It was only a few minutes before she was back.
She kept working just as intently for the rest of the day and even after my father announced he needed to wrap it up so he could get home. Apparently, Mom wasn’t a big fan of how many hours he’d been putting in recently. It seemed retirement wasn’t sitting well with Dad. The longer he was supposed to be doing things like sitting at home or finally figuring out how to golf, the more he wanted to be back in the action. Kelly waved at him over her head and said good night but kept working like she was trying to delay the end of the day. But as soon as Dad walked out, she turned to me.
I started out of the garage, expecting for us to have a phone call later and decide what we were going to do, where we were going to meet, just like we originally planned. Instead, Kelly reached out and stopped me with one hand gripping my arm. She let it sit there only for a second, then pulled it away like touching me stung. Or like she wanted to touch me for longer but couldn’t allow herself to.
I stopped but didn’t say anything.
“We don’t have to wait to talk this out. I can tell my sister I’ll be late. We can get dinner. If that works for you,” she said. I didn’t answer, and she kept talking like she couldn’t stand the silence between us. “You said you wanted to talk as soon as you got the results. Well, you got them. You know now for sure Willa is your daughter. I still agree we should be in a neutral place to talk this out, but I am perfectly fine with you choosing it, if you have a place you want.”
“Yeah,” I told her, nodding. “Okay. I know somewhere. It’s not too far from here, the food is good, and there are tables where we’ll be able to talk without people listening in.”
“Sounds fine to me,” she said. “Where is it?”
“Just follow me,” I told her.
I walked out of the garage and stopped by the lockers to get my stuff while she grabbed hers, then continued to the parking lot. The threat of rain that night made me bring my truck rather than ride a bike, so I got inside and waited until Kelly was in her Jeep and turned the engine over. I pulled out of my parking spot and drove past, going slowly enough for her to get behind me. When we got out of the parking lot, I headed away from the usual direction I left to go home. I knew Kelly probably wasn’t familiar with this area, especially the back roads I turned back and forth along. We were following a shortcut that brought us right to the coast. It was a place I hadn’t been in a long time, but I was happy to be back.
Parking in a small gravel lot, I climbed out and waited for Kelly before heading toward what looked like a shack sitting right near the water’s edge. It didn’t look like much, but it as one of my favorite places to eat. There was no seating inside. Instead, we walked up to a window at the front of the building and read the menus positioned on either side. Kelly looked confused and unsure, so I finally broke my silence.
“Does anything look good?” I asked.
“I really don’t know. I’ve never been a big seafood eater,” she admitted. “Just order me whatever you eat.”
I ordered us both food, and when she reached for her wallet, I waved her off.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“I’ve got it,” I told her without any justification or elaboration.
We sat down at one of the weathered picnic tables outside, and Kelly looked around.
“This place is really cute,” she said.
I nodded.
“I guess you can call it that. Full disclosure, it’s not exactly neutral.”
“What? Are you going to
tell me you secretly own this place?” she laughed.
“No. My brother does,” I said. Her face fell. “Well, he half owns it. And it’s not a secret. But I just figured I should tell you since we’re working on being more honest with each other.”
The comment obviously stung, and she looked down at her hands on the table.
“I guess I deserved that,” she said.
A waitress came out with our food and set it in front of us. I waited until she was gone to keep talking.
“So, she’s mine. I have my proof. Now I need to know why you didn’t tell me. Why you thought I didn’t deserve to know. Because I honestly can’t think of any reason you could give me that isn’t total bullshit.”
32
Kelly
Those were the kind of words that should have offended me. I really wanted to be upset by them. I wanted to be righteous and indignant, to square my chest and to defend myself against Darren’s blunt observation. This would be the time for me to come up with some sort of powerful self-reliance statement, then condemn him for questioning me for deciding what was right for myself and my child. Unfortunately, I couldn’t bring myself to actually feel that way.
It hurt, but not because he offended me. The truth was it all boiled down to him not being wrong. Everything Darren said was true and accurate. As much as I would have appreciated him being a little gentler with me, I didn’t deserve it. Every bit of his anger and frustration was warranted. The man had just found out he had a daughter. Not that he was going to be a father after having a one-night stand, but that he already was and had been for over two years without knowing. It wasn’t news that went down smoothly, and I couldn’t really expect him to just go with the flow.
Millionaire Daddy: A Secret Baby Romance (Freeman Brothers Book 2) Page 17
