Unworthy

by Evans, A. K.

  “Yeah, your mama is a crazy one, alright.”

  “Don’t tell him that,” I scolded her, playfully. “He believes I’m incredible. I need to keep that impression going for as long as I can.”

  Gloria ignored me and sat down on the couch in her family room. She began removing Tate’s hat and jacket to get him comfortable. Once she’d done that and given him more cuddles than any one baby would need, she turned her attention to me.

  “So, what’s going on?”

  I took in a deep breath and blew it out. “I need to ask you a huge favor.”

  “Okay?”

  “Tomorrow night, I need a babysitter.”

  Gloria’s brows shot up. “Are you going on a date?”

  Shaking my head, I answered, “Not exactly.”

  The expression on her face changed to a devious one. As soon as I realized she was getting the wrong idea, I clarified, “I’m going to be seeing my father tomorrow for the first time in more than a decade. I don’t want to take Tate with me. I’d ask Trent to watch him for me, but I don’t want to go to my father’s place alone.”

  My friend did not hide that she was utterly shocked. “What did I miss?” she wondered.

  I launched in and told Gloria about everything. I gave her all the good news I’d received on Friday and followed it up with a detailed account of what Trent shared with me Saturday morning.

  When I finished, she stated, “Well, the whole situation with Keith sounds promising. Let’s hope that all works out the way we hope. On the job front, I wish you all the best. How did that all go?”

  I shrugged. “They interviewed me yesterday. I think it went really well. There are two other candidates who applied for the same position, so it’s not a guarantee that I’ll get it. I’m keeping my fingers crossed though.”

  “In my opinion,” she started. “They’d be fools not to give you that position.”

  “Thanks, Glo.”

  She smiled at me and held my eyes briefly. “Alright, Dee. First things first…I love this little boy like he was my own. So, yes, I have absolutely no problem watching him for you tomorrow night. But I need to know where your mind is going into this.”

  I stayed silent a moment, unsure I had an answer to give her that would make any sense. Deciding I needed to try to figure out a way to explain it, I blurted, “I’m a mix of emotions. I feel anxious, of course. But I’m also still really angry, which makes me feel incredibly guilty.”

  “That all sounds normal, though,” she insisted. “I can’t imagine being in your shoes. All this time has gone by and when he finally reaches out, you have this whole other thing happening that makes you feel wrong for having legitimate reasons to be angry with him. Do you have any idea what he wants? Do you think it’s just to tell you what’s going on with him or do you think it’s something more?”

  Over the last few days, thoughts swirled in my mind over why my father was reaching out to me. Of course, it could have been as simple as Gloria said—Dennis Rogers may have just wanted to let me know whatever was happening to him. But knowing him, knowing the kind of person he was, I knew there had to be more. And that’s what worried me.

  “Honestly, I know it’s not just to tell me that he’s sick. It’s going to be something else, and that’s what I’m dreading. That’s part of the reason I don’t want to take Tate. I’m not interested in taking him into some hostile situation.”

  “I agree with you on that. Besides, does your father even know you had a baby?” she asked.

  I pursed my lips. “Your guess is as good as mine, but considering he didn’t know where to find me, I’m going to say he has no clue that he’s a grandfather.”

  “What are you planning to say to him?” Gloria questioned me.

  I let out a laugh. “I wish I knew. I feel like I’ve got a million things I want to say to him, but since I have no idea what he’s planning to share, I’m pretty sure I’m going to end up winging it.”

  Gloria didn’t seem to think this was a bad idea. “I think that’s a good plan,” she began. “The best reaction you can have is one that’s most genuine. It might not be one he wants, but it’ll be honest. And in a situation like this, with everything you’ve been through, you need to be truthful about how you really feel.”

  She was right.

  Logically, I knew that was how it should be, but part of me worried that I’d say something I’d end up regretting. Either way, I had no choice because even if I tried to script it, he could say one thing and it would all go out the window.

  Tate and I sat and visited a little while longer with Gloria. She listened while I told her how I felt about the situation, and she offered sound advice when I asked for it. Ultimately, she urged me to get myself home so I could not only make dinner and feed my baby but also so I could take the time I needed to talk to Trent and make sure he was comfortable going with me.

  I left Gloria’s house and zipped home because it was going to be a bit past dinner by the time I got in and started cooking. Thankfully, only five minutes after I walked through the door, Trent arrived.

  He greeted me and Tate with a kiss for each of us before he asked, “Why do you seem so frazzled right now?”

  “I stopped at Gloria’s after I picked Tate up from daycare and he’s starting to get fussy because it’s past his dinnertime,” I explained.

  “Do you have food ready for him?” he asked.

  “I was going to feed him what we’re having, but I need about thirty minutes. I turned the oven on as soon as we walked in, so it’s up to temp by now. I probably could get everything done in about twenty if I hurry.”

  Trent took Tate from my arms and said, “Go do what you need to do. Tate and I will play.”

  I pressed up on my toes, gave Trent another kiss, and thanked him.

  Then, I got to work and made dinner. Twenty-five minutes later, we were sitting down to eat baked chicken, veggies, and pasta tossed in a lemon-herb sauce. I had kept a small portion of the food aside for Tate and didn’t add the sauce. I figured it was late, he was hungry, and I didn’t want to overwhelm him with a new sauce that he might not like.

  Once my boy was in his highchair and eating, I sat down at the table across from Trent.

  “How was your day?” I asked.

  “Good. Mostly uneventful, but I’m okay with that every now and then. Yours?”

  “Nothing really special. I finished up the kitchen and bathrooms in that house I was telling you about last week. It was so tedious and I hated what they chose for colors and patterns, so I’m happy that’s done.”

  Trent’s eyes flashed curiously. “You didn’t hear anything yet about the position, did you?”

  I shook my head. “No, they said we probably wouldn’t hear anything until the end of the week.”

  Trent finished chewing, swallowed, and praised, “This is amazing, baby.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad you like it because it’s one of my favorites.”

  Looking to his right, Trent reached out and pushed more of Tate’s food closer to him. I loved how it had become second nature for him to always look out for my little boy. When he turned his attention back to me, he asked, “Everything okay with Gloria?”

  I gave him a nod. “Yeah, I actually went there to ask her if she’d do me a favor?”

  Confusion marred his face.

  “I actually have a favor to ask of you, too,” I confessed.

  “Sure,” he replied immediately. “What do you need?”

  I hesitated briefly before I asked, “Will you go with me tomorrow?”

  Trent’s head tilted, and with the exception of his mouth, since he was chewing, his body froze. After he swallowed, he confirmed, “To your dad’s?”

  “Yeah,” I answered quietly.

  His eyes shot to Tate before coming back to me. “What about Tate? Are you planning to take him there?”

  “No. That’s why I went to Gloria’s. I asked her if she’d mind watching him for me tomorrow night. She agreed
.”

  When Trent made no attempt to speak, I started wondering if maybe it had been a mistake to ask him to go with me. I mean, when I really thought about it, I wasn’t sure if I would have agreed to it if I were him.

  Not wanting to put him in an awkward position, I gave him an out. “It’s okay, Trent. Never mind,” I insisted.

  “Delaney, I just want to make sure this is the right decision. My concern is really all about how things were the last time the three of us were in each other’s presence. It did not go well.”

  I nodded. “I understand,” I assured him. “If it’s going to make you uncomfortable, I don’t want to put you in that position.”

  Unable to control my emotions, I dropped my gaze to my lap. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes as the lump formed in my throat. I hadn’t really considered the possibility that Trent wouldn’t go with me, and now I was feeling a lot more anxiety over this meeting.

  “Sweet cheeks, look at me,” he urged, his voice gentle.

  I lifted my eyes to his. The second I did, a single tear rolled down each cheek.

  “Baby, why are you crying?”

  I brought my hand up and waved it in front of my face. “It’s nothing. I just…it’s nothing.”

  “Delaney,” Trent responded, a clear warning in his tone.

  I bit my lip and hesitated a beat before I admitted, “I never thought you’d say no.”

  “I didn’t say no,” he noted.

  “You haven’t said you’d go either,” I pointed out.

  “So, you’re upset because you think I don’t want to go?”

  I swallowed hard and held his eyes, not saying a word for the longest time. When I finally spoke, I said, “I get it. He doesn’t deserve the right to be in the same room with you. You grew up to be everything he thought you’d never be. And I feel the same way, Trent. The way things happened back then, he really doesn’t deserve to see either one of us. I wish I knew what it was, but I don’t. I don’t know what it is, but something is telling me that I need to go and see him.

  “Delaney,” Trent started. “My hesitation has nothing to do with thinking that your father is unworthy of being in the same room as me. I know who I am and I know who you are. That’s all that matters to me. What your father thinks of me does not affect me in any way. What does affect me is what happens to you. And I just wanted to take a minute to think of all the different ways this situation could play out if I show up there with you tomorrow night. If you’ve got this gut feeling telling you that you need to hear whatever he has to say, what are you going to do if I show up there and he refuses to talk? You won’t get whatever it is that you need out of this, and I don’t want to screw that up for you.”

  That made a lot of sense.

  And it was a huge relief to me to know that his reason for pause had nothing to do with not wanting to be there for me.

  Even still, I knew I needed him there with me.

  “Trent,” I began. “I want you there. As long as you are comfortable with it for yourself personally, I want you with me. Because you are with me. And that is one thing I won’t hide from him, no matter what is going on. My father has to be willing to accept that I’m an adult now and I make my own decisions. Honestly, if he refuses to speak to me because you’re there, then I don’t want to hear whatever he has to say.”

  My determination to have Trent there must have been enough for him because he replied softly, “Then I’ll be there by your side.”

  We pulled up outside the home I grew up in.

  Seeing it brought back a boatload of memories, many I couldn’t begin to process. Like the ones that reminded me of the final days of my mother’s life. Or the one that ripped the man I love out of my arms. Or the tense years that followed that fateful day.

  “Relax, sweet cheeks,” Trent urged as he wrapped his fingers around my bouncing leg just above my knee.

  I gave him a few nods, noting that I was trying my hardest, but failing miserably.

  “Baby, I’ve got your back. One thing goes bad in there, I’ll take care of you. Trust me.”

  “I do. I know you will.”

  And I did.

  But that didn’t make me feel any less anxious about what was ahead of me.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Is that because you don’t think you’ll ever be ready?”

  I nodded once.

  Trent offered me a small smile, leaned over the center console, and touched his lips to mine. “It’s going to be okay, Delaney. No matter what, I’ll make it okay.”

  I bit my lip. “Okay.”

  With that, Trent and I exited his truck and moved to the front door. A woman in a pair of scrubs answered the door and greeted, “Hi, you must be Delaney. I’m Lisa. It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”

  Finally? I thought as I took her outstretched hand in mine.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Lisa. This is my boyfriend, Trent.”

  Something flashed in her face, but she quickly recovered.

  “Come on in,” she demanded. “Dennis has been talking about this for days now. He’s so excited to see you. I’m going to hang out in the kitchen so I can get a few things prepared for tomorrow and do some work on my laptop. Your father is in the living room. You can go right in.”

  “Thanks,” I returned, finding it awkward that some stranger was telling me where I could go in my childhood home that my father still owned.

  Before we moved, I reached out and slid my fingers through Trent’s. Then, I led the two of us to the living room.

  As soon as we stepped into the room, I saw him sitting there in a wheelchair. It was like I’d had the wind knocked out of me. I knew Trent said that he and Holden believed my father was sick, and I’d just seen the evidence of the nurse, but seeing him for the first time in so many years—in a wheelchair no less—left me feeling a bit shell-shocked.

  My father’s eyes came to me and warmed. They were also filled with pain. “Delaney…” He trailed off.

  My body braced, but I didn’t have an opportunity to respond because his eyes slid to my right and locked on Trent.

  “Why is he here?” he asked.

  Here we go.

  I steeled my spine and said the first words I’d spoken to him in more than a decade. “Trent and I are together now.” My voice was firm.

  For a moment, confusion flooded his face before he replaced it with something else. And that something else was completely unexpected. It was relief. Not only could I see it in his expression, but also in what happened next.

  My father’s head dropped, the breath left his lungs, and he sighed, “Oh, thank goodness.”

  Stunned, my eyes shot to Trent’s. He looked just as confused as I was.

  We returned our gazes to my father when he repeated quietly, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  Trent and I remained frozen on the spot, watching as Dennis Rogers broke down in a wheelchair in his living room.

  Eventually, he calmed himself down, looked to us, and pleaded, “Please come in and sit down.”

  I hesitated, only moving when I felt Trent’s hand put pressure on my lower back. We sat on the couch opposite my father but remained silent. I was suddenly grateful I hadn’t spent time trying to memorize a speech. It would have flown out the window the minute we stepped into the room.

  “You got married,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No, Trent and I are not married.”

  “Four years ago,” he stated. “You married the guy that owns the construction company.”

  If I’d had any doubts about my father keeping tabs on me, there was the confirmation. But it made me wonder why he didn’t know how to find me now.

  “Yes, I did marry him,” I confirmed. “And now we’re getting divorced.”

  My father’s eyes shifted between Trent and me.

  When he made no attempt to speak, I nodded my head to his chair and asked, “What’s wrong?”
/>   “ALS,” he started. “It’s a disorder that affects how my muscles and nerves function.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He let out a grunt. “It means that some days are better than others.”

  That gave me little explanation.

  Luckily, my father continued, “Just over a year ago, I finally made an appointment with a doctor that should have happened six months before that. I started noticing I was becoming clumsier. It was becoming difficult to walk and perform everyday tasks.” He paused before he went on, “Now I know why.”

  “What’s the prognosis?” I asked.

  His head tilted and his face softened. “On average, two to five years.”

  If he ended up being on the short end of that, he was close to the two-year mark. My belly tightened and my throat constricted. My gaze dropped to my lap as I struggled to breathe.

  “I’m sorry, Delaney.”

  I returned my eyes to him. The minute he had them, he repeated, “I’m sorry. To the both of you.”

  “What?” I whispered.

  “Facing imminent death has made me question a lot of things I’ve done. Unfortunately, I can’t go back and fix it all. But I had one thing I needed to do before I took my last breath. I needed to apologize to my daughter and tell her she made a mistake.”

  I blinked in surprise.

  “You never should have married that guy,” he started. “I saw the engagement announcement in the paper. I knew when and where the wedding was happening. I hired someone to sneak and take pictures when you came out of the church. As beautiful as you looked, darling, you weren’t truly happy. I knew it then, and I knew I was responsible for that.”

  What could I say to that? It was the truth.

  “Your mom died, and I couldn’t cope. I was so cut up over the loss of her, and when I looked in your eyes, I could see her in them. Not just because you have her eyes, but because you used to look at the man sitting next to you the way she used to look at me. And I knew if I couldn’t find a way to hold on to you, he’d take you away from me. But it didn’t matter because I ended up destroying whatever love you had for me anyway.”

  At the mere mention of my mother, I lost it. A noise escaped me and quiet sobs overtook my body. Trent’s arm went around my shoulders and curled me into his chest. I took a few slow, deep breaths and calmed myself down.