“Oh,” he said, sounding a little thrown off balance. “Would you rather pick the place? That might be safer—Assuming you did want to see me again,” he said sounding a little panicked.
“Uh, how about NoMad Restaurant. It has burgers and pasta. That kind of stuff. Unless you are worried it might sully your reputation. Can’t have your fancy clients seeing you eat a burger.”
Paul laughed heartily. He had a nice laugh. “If I cared about my reputation I wouldn’t have become a lawyer.”
At that, Julie laughed too. She appreciated a man that didn’t take himself too seriously. It was one of the things she’d liked about—She shook her head. She would not compare. She wasn’t going to be that woman.
Once again, she’d gone silent for too long.
“Julie?” Paul asked. “Did I lose you with the bad joke?”
“No. I’m still here. The joke wasn’t that bad actually. I like—” she stopped herself before saying something that she’d regret. “It’s getting late. I hate to tell you this, but I’ve become a bit of a grandma in the last couple of weeks.”
“I’m sure it’s exhausting trying to grow a human.” He paused. “I’m sorry. Was that weird? I just grew up around a lot of women. I’m a little too familiar with the pregnancy process.”
Julie smiled. “That makes one of us then. Maybe you can give me a few tips over dinner.”
“You know, Julie, I’m really glad we met. I mean, I’m really glad that Melinda intervened and butted her head in where it didn’t belong because if she hadn’t I wouldn’t have met you.”
Julie was glad he’d said this over the phone so he couldn’t see the shade of red her Irish complexion was turning. “I’m glad too.”
Chapter 8
When Julie emerged from the underground world, like a groundhog, she fought the urge to turn around and run back under. The world above the subway was cold and windy. The skyscrapers made sure of that by creating tunnels for the chilled air to flow through. Julie’s perfectly curled hair started to take off with the wind when she reached around her head and held the rebellious strands in place.
She’d agreed to meet Paul at the NoMad’s Restaurant at seven o’clock. The clock on her phone informed her that she was running fifteen minutes early. The walk to the restaurant would eat up five to seven of those minutes. She could grab a table and order water. That would take up another five to ten minutes. Perfect.
When she started to open the door to the restaurant, a hand reached over her and took the weight of the door from her arm. Julie walked quickly through the door and into the warm place that smelled of burgers. She didn’t glance over her shoulder when she thanked whoever it was that had offered their assistance. The voice that responded caused her head to swivel around as if she no longer had any vertebrae.
“H-Hi,” Julie said to her date.
“You look beautiful,” Paul said.
Julie could only hope that the cold had turned her flesh pink enough to cover her blushing. “Thank you.”
The woman behind the podium looked up from her important book finally to ask them how many people would be dining.
“Two,” Paul said.
The date proceeded in the usual manner. They took turns talking about their families, their careers, their friends. Paul had grown up in New Jersey. Later, he was offered a prestigious job in New York as an associate. He’d worked his way up since then to becoming a partner. He still kept in touch with a few of his college friends. Most of his time was spent working or visiting his elderly parents though. He fed a stray cat that he’d name Mojo. He was a good person.
Julie told him about her parents and their multiple marriages to each other. She told him about her three best friends. Her stories were much drier and shorter than Paul’s. Not that he seemed to mind. Finally, she told him that she’d been married for less than a month when she left him.
“It turned out our marriage wasn’t—how shall I put this—legal,” Julie said.
Please don’t ask why she thought.
“I’ve seen that a few times. I can’t understand how a person can be so cruel. Marriage is a big enough risk without throwing scam artists into the mix.”
Julie laughed almost scornfully. You have no idea, she wanted to say. “Exactly,” she said.
“Does he know about the baby?” Paul asked.
Julie cringed. The topic had to come up at some point if Paul was serious about her. She’d been preparing possible answers all day during the hours she should’ve been working.
“He does, but he won’t be part of the baby’s life,” she stated.
“I see. I apologize if this is too forward, but is that your choice or his?” He paused. “You don’t have to answer.”
“It’s okay. It’s my choice. He wasn’t—He wasn’t a good person. I will tell you more about that later if you decide you want to see me again.”
Paul smiled off to one side. “I do want to see you again, Julie. Anyone in their right mind would.” He paused and the breath-taking smile disappeared. “I’m sorry you went through that. I know we only just met, but I believe you can tell a lot about a person by their friends. I know you don’t deserve what your ex did. Nobody deserves to be lied to.”
He sounded genuinely sorry. Julie smiled instead of speaking since she was at a loss for words.
“Is it warm in here to you?” Julie asked.
Paul shook his head. “No. I run cool though.”
Julie glanced around. People were still wearing shawls and sweaters. It wasn’t warm. That meant it was just her. Suddenly, she realized she was feeling something she hadn’t felt in a long time. She’d been cold and nervous so long, she’d forgotten what it felt like to feel safe. It felt warm.
After hearing about her crazy parents and a failed marriage, Paul sat across the table and smiled at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. He wanted to see her again.
***
As Julie walked home from the train, she reveled in the conversation she’d just had while glancing over her shoulder every couple of seconds. How could she feel so happy and so paranoid at the same time? Paul had given her back the feeling she’d lost: safety. But the moment she’d stepped out of the NoMad, Peter had taken that feeling away again.
“Don’t give him that kind of power,” Julie told herself quietly as she walked. The sky was dark and eerie. The streets were busy, but the constant presence of other humans did nothing to comfort her. They wouldn’t care what happened to her. They had their own problems. Julie could see the walkway wedged between the barber and wine shop only a few feet ahead. She would be home soon. She took a deep breath and tried to think about her date with Paul again.
The image of her sitting across from Paul flashed through her mind. Does he know who the father is?
Peter wouldn’t hurt the woman carrying his child. He probably wouldn’t hurt anyone period. He was a liar and held a grudge, but he wasn’t physically dangerous. At least, he hadn’t been before. Julie had seen cases where the docile patients turned hostile when circumstances changed. The circumstances had changed for Peter, and she couldn’t be sure how he would react.
Julie glanced over her shoulder before heading up the narrow stairway to her apartment. The motion was a pointless one because she couldn’t make out half the faces of the people walking past her. Looking over her shoulder only made her feel more like a mouse playing against a cat. If Peter wasn’t a danger to her, she wouldn’t feel this way. She needed to face facts. Peter was dangerous.
Julie walked up the stairs, feeling the extra weight of the burger and fries in her stomach. She turned the key to her apartment. Home at last. Maybe everyone had been right about calling the—Julie stared at the edge of a letter sticking out from under her door. Not again.
Not again.
***
My dearest Julie,
I thought you would have responded by now. Understandably, you needed time to process everything. In my humble opinion, I h
ave given you sufficient time. The child you are carrying is mine. You can’t ignore that fact. You can’t push me out of your life just by pretending I don’t exist. You know all too well that I do exist, Julie. I am inside you now. I am inside of our child. We will always be intertwined.
Growing up without a mother or father took a toll on me that I cannot express. That won’t happen to my child, Julie. Our son will know his father. It’s my right.
We should be a family again, Julie. If you are worried about what people would think, they don’t have to know. Nobody has to know. We can go away. Far away.
I love you, Julie. You’re my flesh and blood, but more importantly, we are going to be parents soon. I want to see you, consensually. I trust that you want what is best for our child, and I assure you, not letting me into his life willingly is not what’s best.
I’ll be in front of the Met’s tomorrow at 7 pm. Meet me there. Don’t bring anyone with you. You don’t need to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you. I just want to talk to you.
Chapter 9
As Julie walked toward the Mets, she picked apart each letter from Peter’s letter like a vulture picking the flesh from its dead prize. How had he known the baby was a boy? Only three people knew that- the doctor, her father, and herself. The doctor wouldn’t give information to Peter anymore. And her father wanted to turn Peter into the police. He wouldn’t give Peter that sort of information either.
I am inside you now. They shared the same genes, but that wasn’t what he was referring to. He had written now. He was referring to the baby. Did he really think that? Did he truly believe that having a child together meant he would be part of her forever?
…not letting me into his life willingly…As she walked, a shiver spread through her body. It was cold outside, but she’d worn half the clothes in her closet and felt sufficiently warm. It was Peter’s words that were chilling. What did he mean by willingly? Surely he wouldn’t take her to court and fight for the child. He would never win. But he knew that. Julie couldn’t help but sense something threatening about the words.
A gust of wind blew down Seaver Way. Even with her stomach in knots, the smell of hotdogs and pretzels being carried on the wind’s wings made the baby active. It was time for dinner. The thought of food was the one thing that hadn’t crossed her mind. Now, the idea of putting anything on her stomach before meeting Peter made her want to puke prematurely. She wasn’t the one calling the shots anymore though.
Three kicks later, she was holding a pretzel in one hand and mustard in the other.
Flags and banners stretched across the building. Nobody could miss the Mets if they tried. The surface-mounted lights acted as spotlights against the limestone building. Two regal-style banners on either side of the entrance hung from the top of the building like a floating red carpet, announcing to its guests that they had indeed arrived at the famous museum. Against the deep blue, almost black sky, the creamy building’s crafted columns and decadent crown molding looked royal. Still, something was intimidating and haunting about the beautiful building. It reminded Julie of Peter.
Finding Peter was turning out to be surprisingly more difficult than she’d anticipated. She’d forgotten how many people, especially the tourists, liked to visit the museums. Clusters of children all wearing the same color trailed behind larger humans like ducklings following their mother. Julie touched her stomach at the thought of her child going on such a field trip one day. A misty film covered her eyes. She’d never imagined the baby’s future until now.
Past the groups of children, teenagers stretched out over the stairs like rugs being left out to dry. They were probably trying to appear uninterested while cool enough to be hanging out at such an intellectual local. Julie’s emotions did not get the better of her when thinking about the baby becoming a moody teenager.
Past the stairs, Julie’s eyes searched through the trees that were planted in the cement to provide the blue metal tables with shade. It was difficult to make out anyone’s faces from where she stood. She’d need to get closer. Closer to the museum. Closer to the benches and the stairs that might be harboring Peter. Closer to the man she’d been avoiding for five months.
She didn’t need to get closer though. The hand that wrapped around her frail shoulder was familiar. The entire time she’d been searching, he’d been closer than she’d ever realized.
***
“Jules.”
Julie forced herself to look directly at Carrie but said nothing.
“Still mad at me then, I presume. I guess I deserve it.”
Her words stung. She was like an open book that couldn’t close itself. Did Carrie think it’d be that easy? After what she said…
“Jules, please say something.”
Her lips parted, but no noise came out. Just as she thought she’d found her voice and started to speak, another voice spoke in place of hers. The base vibrations that rattled her to the core belonged to Peter. Her heart seemed to be stuck to her collar bones. She could no longer deny her fear. It was overwhelming. Whether she’d admit it or not, she was afraid of him.
Carrie’s eyes were glaring past her and slightly upward toward the body that Julie knew was standing close behind her. She could practically feel the warmth coming from behind and the frozen hatred coming from in front of her. The two polar opposites were coming face to face and she was stuck between them. She couldn’t help but feel that she was stuck between two trains about to collide. Then her thoughts, for a reason she couldn’t understand, drifted back to something she’d learned in college about the law of thermodynamics. Heat will always transfer to cooler objects until both objects are at the same temperature. Heat was energy. Entropy always increases as the energy from one object transferred to another. She couldn’t understand why such a random science lecture would unbury itself after all these years, except for the fact that now, she felt as if she was witnessing the first law of thermodynamics be defied. She could feel Peter’s smile burning a hole into Carrie’s predator-like eyes. Carrie’s mouth curved downward at Peter. It seemed like an eternity had passed in those quick seconds.
“You must be Carrie,” Peter said.
Julie almost laughed. The only feature that made Carrie stand out from among the stories Julie had told Peter about her friends was her hard demeanor.
Carrie didn’t budge. “You must be Peter.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said coolly.
Carrie’s mouth was almost in an upside-down U shape. “Is it?”
Peter had finally made his way around Julie’s statue and was now in her peripheral vision. She couldn’t bring herself to turn. The outline of his face was more than she’d seen of him in months. He’s seen much more of her obviously, but that could have been only one way - like a hunter watching a doe.
“Are you here with Jules?” Peter asked, calling to Julie’s mind his instructions in the letter. Don’t bring anyone with you. What would he do if he thought she’d defied him?
Carrie shook her head. “No.”
Suddenly, Julie noticed the neon pink shirt Carrie wore. It matched the shirts she’d seen groups of children wearing. She was on a field trip with her class. Of course.
“I was just going actually,” Carrie added a moment later. Her hard eyes fell back on Julie’s. “Bye, Julie.”
Carrie said Julie instead of Jules only when she was upset. She had nothing to be upset with Julie about which made Julie’s blood boil. She was the one who should be apologizing for what she said that night. Julie hadn’t done anything wrong. Carrie must’ve thought Julie had met Peter here—well, she had. Not because she’d wanted to though.
As Carrie walked away, Julie realized she was alone with him. Peter was standing less than a foot away. She could touch his shoulder with her’s by leaning to the left a little. The thought made her stomach turn. The baby must’ve felt that something was off because he decided to do his worst then and there, kicking, punching, flipping around inside of her. A sickening thou
ght occurred to her then. What if the baby recognized Peter’s voice? What if he recognized his smell? Could babies sense the presence of their father like some kind of sixth sense? Surely not. But what if.
“You look good, Jules,” Peter said, squaring off his shoulders with hers so they were face to face.
She couldn’t breathe as she stared at the face of the man that had lied to her and tried to ruin her family. He would have succeeded if only her family hadn’t already been broken. He had succeeded at breaking her though.
“Do you need to sit down? I’m sure you must be exhausted.”
He sounded kind and concerned. It was hard to believe he could stalk her and send threatening letters to her father.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she walked to a nearby metal table and sat. He sat across from her, cupping his hands together as if he might start praying.
“Thank you for meeting me. I’ve missed you,” he said.
She looked into her sky blue eyes. Without the sun, they looked dark blue. The law of thermodynamics, she thought as she felt her anger swimming through her veins like heat. The anger was better than fear. She stared. The longer she could stay silent, the longer she could control that small part of herself. She had control. The moment she spoke, she was letting that go. She’d have to speak sooner or later, but for now, she would stare.
“Jules, I’m sorry for lying to you about who I was. I’m sorry for all of it. But you have to understand, I didn’t expect to fall for you. I didn’t expect to love you at all. I don’t mean that to sound harsh. It’s just the truth.” He paused. She stared. “But I wanted to talk to you about the baby, not about the past. I know you’re still mad at me, but you can’t stay mad forever.”
“Why not? You did.” She’d finally spoken, but it seemed worth it. “You stayed mad at Dad until you were thirty-four and punished me for it. Why can’t I stay mad at you forever?”
His expression was unreadable. “I’ve apologized for that, Ju—”
The Offspring Page 6
