by Portia Moore
“I didn’t expect you to come around so easily,” he says happily. He grabs another Snickers, and tosses me one.
“I probably wouldn't have if it wasn’t for Lauren,” I admit, opening up the candy bar. I see his lips press together. “I figured if she could understand and overlook what you did, I could too.” I take a bite of my candy bar.
“Your mom told me things went well when you went to see her,” he says after taking a bite from his.
“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re best friends or anything, but I guess we’re both trying to make the best out of the situation we’re in,” I fumble with the candy bar in my hands. I think back on the conversation I had with Lauren. She was pretty considerate, sitting there, letting me vent while she had to feel torn up inside. I sigh, reflecting on it all.
“The way she looked at me, Dad,” I hesitate, trying to forget the way her eyes grabbed mine and practically begged them to not look away. “She looked at me the way Mom looks at you sometimes.” My Dad shifts in his seat uncomfortably.
“And the way she talked about him, Cal,” I sigh, thinking back to how her eyes lit up when she shared things I’m guessing made her fall in love with him. I try to think when, if ever, Jenna looked at me like that.
“You need to be careful with her, Chris,” he states, quickly snapping me from my own thoughts.
“What do you mean?” I sigh. Since the whole secret reveal, I really haven’t wanted to hear his advice on things, but today needs to be a good day. It’d be nice if we could reflect the happy, normal family we once were before all this started.
“I mean that things are very complicated, and I think it would probably be best if they stayed as simple as possible,” he replies. He looks me squarely in the eye, with the same look he used to give me when I was a kid before taking me to a store and telling me I could only pick one thing and no more than that.
“Lauren’s just found out about you. It’s going to take more than a few days for her to really grasp the truth that you’re not the man she knows and—”
I put my hand up to stop him. “Dad, we have an understanding. I’m sure it’s hard for her, but right now her concern is with her daughter. Everything else is pretty irrelevant now,” I say, standing up.
He presses his lips together and his brow furrows. He’s frustrated. I can tell there’s more he wants to say, but he turns his attention to the picture of Caylen on my desk.
“Your mother is beyond excited about her. She’s all she talks about,” he says.
After a moment, he rests his head in one hand, and we both look at the newest generation of the Scott family. In the last two days, this is the first time in this house that the anger and tension has disappeared.
“Who’d a thought, me…a grandpa?” He smiles widely, and in that moment, he’s not the man with the stern, hard demeanor who I’ve gotten used to, but is back to being my dad. He’s the man who coached my little league, who was everyone’s favorite neighbor, and who was my best friend. This is the man I want Caylen, my daughter, to meet, even though the man who made her is the one who drove him away.
“She’s been out there a while. Maybe I should go ask her to come in?” my mother says as she looks through the window for the tenth time since Lauren has pulled up.
“Let her get her bearings. There has to be a reason she hasn’t come in yet. We don’t want to ambush the girl,” my dad says calmly as he reads his newspaper.
My mom walks over to him and glances over his shoulder. She then gives him a playful nudge.
“William Scott, you can act as calm as you want. You’ve been reading that same page of the newspaper for the past half hour,” my mom teases him. He rolls his eyes, dismissing my mom, but a smile spreads across his face.
“I can’t believe they’re here. My granddaughter is here!” she sings, running over to me and giving me a big hug. I can’t help but laugh. She hasn’t been this excited about things in a while.
“I can’t wait. I can’t wait,” she sings, peering out of the window again. My dad gets up and pats me on the back.
“Are you okay, son?” he asks, his voice concerned but cheerful. The mood in the house has completely reversed since the last time Lauren graced our doorway.
“Yeah,” I squeak out, not recognizing my own voice. I sound like I’m twelve. I laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. I joke about my mom, but I’m just as excited as she is, just a hundred times more nervous. Somehow, I am managing to stay still. My dad arches an eyebrow at me. Then he walks over to my mom, clasping her shoulders.
“She’s getting out of the car!” she announces excitedly.
“Honey, I think you and I should go in the kitchen,” he says, taking her hand. She whips around, confusion on her face
“Why would we do that? They’re about to come in,” she says, pointing toward the window.
“I know. I just think maybe we should give them a few minutes alone first. This is a private moment,” he informs my mom, who, I think, is pouting.
“B-but I’m the grandmother,” she asserts.
“Of course you are, and I know you’re ready to coddle and spoil that little girl to pieces, but let’s give Chris a little time. Let’s allow him to meet his daughter first,” my dad says calmly. My mom looks so disappointed, but she sighs, a small smile returning to her face.
“That’s why I love your father, Chris. When I’m flying off the handle, he’s there to pull me back to earth,” she says and kisses my dad on the cheek.
“We’ll just be in the back,” she says, then gives me a hug, squeezing me tight.
“I’ll try not to take long Mom,” I promise her, squeezing her back. She gently pats my arm, and she and dad slip out of the room. I take a deep breath and open the door to an entirely new stage of my life. I walk down the porch, my feet feel like they're a thousand pounds each. My heart speeds up as I see my little one making her way toward the house. Her steps are quick and chaotic. She has curly brown hair separated in two pigtails, and wide green eyes. She’s like a walking doll, and I've never wanted to hold anything more in my life.
Is this real? This is my daughter? I squeeze the penguin I bought for her as she and her mom make their way onto the sidewalk. Lauren’s eyes are watery, and she’s smiling, her lips pressed tightly together.
“Hi,” she says, her voice a little shaky and high-pitched. She sounds as nervous as I feel, but she looks amazing. Her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, but her skin is vibrant, her eyes no longer puffy. The sunlight is bouncing off her eyes, causing them to sparkle.
“Hey,” I respond, my own voice a little shaky. Lauren lets go of Caylen’s hand, and she makes her way over to me. My daughter looks at me with the same magnetic pull her mom has. She smiles, and I’m in love. She reaches up for the penguin I’m holding, and I realize that it’s the toy she’s mesmerized by, and not me. I’m a little jealous.
“Umm, my friend’s daughter loves the penguins in the Madagascar movie. I thought she’d like it.” I glance up at Lauren.
“She watches that movie all the time,” she replies.
“I’m glad I made a good choice,” I squat down so I’m near Caylen’s eye level. “I thought you might like this,” I say, holding the stuffed animal out to her.
“Pepe!” she says excitedly, taking the penguin from my hand and stuffing it in her mouth. She looks so much like my baby pictures. This little person is mine, right here in front of me. The feeling of having someone who shares my genes, connected by blood. I’ve never shared that with anyone before.
“I’m Chris, Caylen,” I say with a smile, blinking away the hot tears in my eyes. But Caylen’s smile makes more tears come. I quickly wipe them away. Lauren walks closer me. She gently touches my shoulder, and Caylen grabs my face, giggling. I laugh.
“Caylen, this is your daddy,” Lauren’s words come out of nowhere. I’ve never been so grateful to hear anything in my life.
“Thank you, Lauren.” I hope that she can see that I trul
y mean it. I’m grateful that she brought this little girl into my life. That she’s kept her safe, and done it on her own, without any of my help. For the first time, I hope that the vision I had last night wasn’t just a dream, that those words he said to her were genuine. I hope that Cal and Lauren were in love. I hope more than anything that Caylen was made out of love. For a second there’s an intense pressure in my head but in an instant, it’s gone. I shake the feeling away, and look up at Lauren, whose eyes are wide and her body completely still.
“Lauren,” I say, my voice slightly raised. She looks like she’s seen a ghost. After a second, she snaps out of it. She lets out a breath and moves toward me. She brings her hand to my cheek. It’s soft and warm, and strangely calming, but the gleam in her eyes makes me nervous.
“Is everything okay?” I ask her, and she nods, taking her hand back. I want to tell her that everything is going to be okay. I’ll the best father I can for our daughter. The hurt that’s hiding behind her eyes I can’t erase, but I will do everything in my power to make sure I never hurt her like that. I can’t be who she wants me to be, but I’ll be the best man that I can―that I know how to be.
Chapter 26
It takes less than two minutes before my mom bursts out of the house and onto the porch. She hugs me, then Lauren, and snatches up Caylen in her arms. She ushers us into the house. Then my phone rings.
It’s Dexter. I feel my blood pressure start to rise just seeing his name. I’ve called him a thousand times, and now he decides to call back. I quickly excuse myself from the room and step on the front porch. I wrap the phone tightly in my hand and let out a deep breath before answering.
“Chris, I presume?” he says, his tone slightly amused, and it makes me want to hang up the phone right then and there.
“Very funny, Dexter,” I say tightly, trying to maintain my composure.
“I think it’s time we had a little chat. Don’t you?”
“I think it’s long overdue,” I reply. I see Dexter’s limo pull up. He lets the window down and I see his wide smile.
“You picked the perfect time to show up. Want to come in, grab a drink?” I ask sarcastically.
“That won’t be necessary,” he says, opening the door for me, and I begrudgingly get in and feel the car pull off.
“So, the cat’s been let out of the bag, so to speak?” he asks, closing his laptop. “I can imagine how liberated you must feel. I personally feel like a burden’s been lifted from me,” he takes a sip from his water bottle. “You know I’m not one who enjoys keeping secrets,” he chuckles, and I want to punch the sarcasm right out of him. “You’re pretty quiet. You called me quite a bit. I’d think you’d have a thousand questions for me,” he says, leaning back into his seat.
I try to think rationally and calmly. Dexter probably knows more about me or this Cal guy than my parents. Of course, he and Cal were close; they’re both jerks, and jerks usually tend to get along.
“You helped him do this,” I say, clasping my hands together to keep them from wrapping around his neck. He smirks.
“Do what, exactly?” he feigns innocence.
“Steal, ruin, and take over my life. None of this rings a bell?” I say, not hiding my bitterness. He only smirks.
“I did you a big favor Christopher. Without my help, you’d be waking up in prison for something you didn’t even remember doing,” he retorts.
“What does that mean?” I say irately.
“Let’s just say before Cal came under my guidance, he didn’t make the greatest decisions,” he says pouring himself a glass of what looks like scotch.
“Are you saying I’m a criminal?” I ask him pointedly.
“I wouldn’t say that, and I think it’s in your best interest for you not to say that either,” he says casually before sipping the brown liquid in his glass. I put my head in my hands. What the hell did this Cal guy do? He’s done something, Dexter knows about it, and he’s holding it over my head.
“What did he do?”
“Relax, Christopher. He never hurt anyone. He just had a knack for taking the things your life didn’t provide him with sufficiently,” he says allusively.
“Besides, aren’t there more important things to talk about?”
“For instance, you, my comrade, have a daughter, a beautiful wife, a thriving career with my company—whenever you’d like to take it. Cal is quite good at his job.” The way he’s speaking about all this makes me want to throw up. As if it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“You didn’t do me any favors, so let’s get that straight. You helped him destroy my life. He took away my choices. I don’t owe you anything! You can take your job and shove it up—”
“I’d advise you to think before you go any further, Christopher,” he says, the amusement gone from his demeanor, and his tone cold. I am not here to listen to your verbal tantrums. Since I’m in a charitable mood, instead of ending this meeting, and leaving you just as ignorant of what is going on as before you stepped in this vehicle, I’m letting you know you’re making very poor utilization of the time I’m making available to you.” He glances at his watch. “Which you have about five minutes left of.”
“Why does he exist?” I say pointedly.
“That’s a better question for your psychiatrist,” he says, his smug grin back.
“What did he do for your company?” I say tightly.
“Confidentially agreement, “he retorts, and I realize he’s not here to help me. He thinks this is a game.
“Which he signed with a fake name,” I yell.
“I can assure you all documentation is legitimate,” he says with a smarmy grin on his face, cupping the now empty glass in his hands. It’s also conducive for you to know that the marriage certificate he signed is not fraudulent either,” he replies calmly. I let out several deep breaths, and look at the man who, over a decade ago, I considered my closest friend, a big brother. Now I can’t even call him a casual acquaintance.
“Why did you help him?” I ask.
“Because I have your best interest at heart,” he says simply.
I lean forward to make sure he gets what I’m about to say. “Cal may not know you, but I know you. You don’t do anything if it’s not in your own best interest,” I say in between gritted teeth. He sighs.
“You met Lauren today, didn’t you? She’s quite stunning, isn’t she?” he asks, and I feel my eyes start to squint.
“Don’t you think it would be easier just to settle back into Cal’s life? Beautiful wife, adorable daughter, great apartment in one of my buildings,” he laughs, fixing himself another drink.
“It’s not my life, Dex! What don’t you get about that?” He glances away from me momentarily. Then he stares back at me blankly.
“You can’t marry Jenna, Christopher,” he says abruptly, and my eyes almost bulge out of my head.
“I’m marrying Jenna,” I say pointedly, adding a disbelieving laugh. The fact that Jenna hasn’t answered my calls and isn’t even talking to me is a moot point, but he doesn’t know that.
“That’s not something Cal will take lightly,” he says with a amused grin on his face, amused. He’s amused by all of this.
“Do you think I care what he’ll take lightly? That I care about anything he wants?” I ask angrily. He nods his head. “Do you think I’m happy about how screwed up my life is right now?” I shout.
“You’re here,” he says calmly.
“Right. I’m here. He’s not. I don’t give a damn about what he thinks. He left me here to fix his mess,” I say in disbelief. How can he look at me with a straight face and tell me what this jerk-off won’t take lightly?
“What happens when that changes?” he says casually, and my stomach sinks. “You’re here, at the moment. Do you think Cal is going to react well if you leave the woman he loves, and his child, to marry another woman he can’t stand?” he laughs gruffly. That’s my fear, the reason why I haven’t showed up at Jenna’s house and begged h
er to forgive me. I really don’t know what this man is capable of, but I don’t need Dexter to know what my fear is.
“I’ll take care of Caylen, not because of what he wants but because it’s the right thing to do, because she’s my daughter,” I assert. “And how do you know he can’t stand Jenna?” I ask in shock. He lets out another deep sigh and pours himself another drink.
“You and I haven’t been as close as we used to. As we grew older our motivations seemed to lie on different ends of the spectrum, but…”
Yeah, he grew into a self-appreciating jerk, and I didn’t.
“…I do respect you, Chris. Your values, the morals you have, the ethical code that you live your life by,” he says, taking another sip of his drink.
“You used to have the same code,” I look him directly in the eye. He flinches, but recovers quickly, a self-satisfied grin resuming its regular place on his face.
“That is the reason why Cal has the upper hand and will always be a threat.”
I let out an angry breath, and fold my hands tightly. “I’m not afraid of him. He doesn’t scare me, or intimidate me. I can do just as much damage to him as he can do to me, and I’m going to do everything in my power to get rid of him completely. He’s the one on borrowed time, not me,” I say tightly. I see Dexter hit a button in the car.
“Daniel, you can return to Mr. Scott’s destination. Thank you,” he says.
“As long as you both think of yourselves as adversaries the harder things will be on everyone,” his tone is quiet and solemn, and for a second I believe that he actually cares about how this will affect everyone, not only himself.
“So that’s all. You’ve known this guy for what? A couple of years? I’m your nephew. Shouldn’t you be on my side?” I’m grasping at straws now. One thing I know is the Crestfields hold family ties in extremely high regard. My dad and Dexter’s dad hadn’t talked in years when my condition surfaced, but when my dad went to his stepfather, he spared no resource or expense.
