The Winter Wedding

by Rhonda McKnight

  “Interesting,” I said. “I didn’t.”

  “Well, of course you didn’t.” Aunt Joe smiled curtly. “But we’re here now.”

  I released a breath. I felt uncomfortable with her dismissing my loss, but I wasn’t going to blame her. She wasn’t the one who had my baby.

  “How did the talk go?” she asked Tamar.

  Tamar looked at me for a second and then gave her aunt her attention when she responded. “It went good. As well as it could go. He was surprised. He wants to meet his grandparents and cousins.”

  “Ice cream made it better,” I offered. They weren’t going to exclude me. “We went to…what was the name?”

  “Topos,” Tamar said.

  “Oh yes, the designer burgers and milkshake that cost a fortune,” Aunt Joe said. “He went once with the baseball team when they won a few years ago and had leftover money from a donation. I make hamburgers just fine and then there’s the occasional trip to Wendy’s.”

  A quiet space filled the room. I took in the modest house again. It reminded me of the house I grew up in. It was a little smaller. Small house, no fancy meals. That wouldn’t have been the life my son would have had with me, but he was a nice kid. Aunt Joe obviously gave him what he needed. Still, I felt cheated.

  “A reporter approached us at the restaurant,” Tamar said.

  Aunt Joe frowned. “Really? From the Yancy Times?”

  “It’s going to be a problem for a while,” I said. “Isaiah won’t be able to ride the school bus. He should be driven.”

  Aunt Joe and Tamar exchanged a look.

  I cleared my throat. “And reporters can be pretty aggressive. The man I talked to this evening was a nice guy, but once folks roll down here from Atlanta and other places around the country, they won’t be so nice.”

  Aunt Joe frowned again. “Around the country?”

  “Yes,” Tamar said. “Believe me, it’ll happen. Free-lancers, in particular, will do anything to get a photo or some exclusive footage.”

  “With that said,” I interrupted, “I’ve have hired a security person for Isaiah. He can also be the person to take him to school.”

  “Security?” Aunt Joe frowned.

  I continued. “I really don’t like the idea of Isaiah attending an unsecured school, but the year is almost over. I don’t want to disrupt anything, but we’ll have to –”

  “Stephen,” Tamar said. “One thing at a time.”

  I took a deep breath and sat back.

  “My head is spinning,” Aunt Joe said. “I didn’t think this would be such big news.”

  “It shouldn’t be. But it is,” I said.

  We all sat silent for a moment.

  “Stephen, do you have anything you want to ask me?” Aunt Joe’s voice pulled me from my thoughts about how this school arrangement would never do.

  I cleared my throat before answering. If I had questions, they were stuck in my chest right now. I was still trying to get over the shock of having a son. Even though I’d met him, I wasn’t there yet. “Not right this minute.”

  “Tamar says you’ve talked to your lawyer.”

  I cleared my throat. “I did. He called me when he heard the story.”

  Tamar frowned. “I thought you called him.”

  I looked at her for a long moment before speaking. “I didn’t say that. I told you I talked to him.”

  “Anything I need to know?” Aunt Joe asked. “I mean, I’d like for us to be family.”

  I held back a grunt. So, we were going to be family when it was convenient for them. Bitterness froze my heart. I let out a frustrated sigh to release some of it. I shook my head. “I talked to him mostly about my will. I didn’t see any need for much else at this time.”

  Aunt Joe nodded uncomfortably, then she stood. “Well, if you don’t mind. I’m going to go and check on Isaiah. I heard the water stop. That was a quick shower for a boy going through puberty.”

  I stepped out of her path and watched her leave us. The cane made a clicking sound on the hard wood as she went down the hall. How odd that she and I were both on canes. I couldn’t shake the symbolism – us finding each other at the lowest points in our lives.

  My gaze settled on Tamar. She stuck her hands in her pocket and chuckled before saying, “That was a fast shower.”

  “Puberty?” I sighed. “Is he going through puberty?”

  “I guess so. He’s the right age.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, I shot her an icy glare. “What do you know for sure, Tay?”

  The peace that had been her countenance slipped away instantly. “I know my Aunt’s been sick. I’ve been here, but I didn’t think to ask him if he was having wet dreams.”

  “A father would think it.”

  Tamar shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry you’re just meeting him. I’m sorry I waited to tell you. I’m sorry about everything, Stephen.” She began to cry.

  I let my eyes wander around the room. I wanted to look at anything but her and those tears. I wanted to punish her, but I didn’t want to see her cry.

  “Where’s the Range Rover?” I barked.

  Tamar reached for a tissue from the box in front of her. “It’s in Atlanta.”

  “Why aren’t you driving it?”

  “I don’t drive it down here.”

  “I gave it to you,” I said, like we both didn’t know it.

  “You gave me a $30,000 ring too. I’m not wearing that either.”

  I shook my head. “You think that’s all your ring cost?”

  Tamar bit her lip before speaking. “I wasn’t counting your money.”

  “I never said you were.”

  Tamar stood. She walked around to the back of the chair she’d been in and gripped the top of it. “What are you getting at? The car? What are we talking about?”

  “The least you could do is drive it. My son could be in a Range Rover.”

  “Is that what he needs?”

  “No, that’s what I’ve earned for him.” I raised a hand to wipe my face. “At least you could enjoy the spoils of your labor.”

  Tamar grimaced, and her fist went to her hip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You made sure I went to college on my football scholarship. You helped me to be the success I am today, so I could spend a fortune on a fiancé.”

  Tamar rolled her neck. “What am I a witch? I knew you were going to the NFL. I knew one day we’d meet again, and I could benefit from my decision to let you go to college? Is that the fiction you’ve spun in your imagination?”

  I sighed. “You know what, Tay. I don’t know anything. All I know is I lost eleven years.”

  “I can’t give them back. I can’t even give back the last few months, but trust me, I know about losing years. I know how painful it is. So, I’m going to tell you like you told me when you didn’t know how hard it was for me after the video – I’m sorry. I didn’t know my choices would affect you this way.”

  “So, this was revenge? Is that what you were thinking when you didn’t tell me you were pregnant? Was this your way of getting even with me for uploading the video I didn’t actually upload?”

  Tamar dropped her hand from her hip. I watched the fight go out of her. “You couldn’t possibly think that.”

  I refused to say anything that would make her feel better. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Stephen, I was just a pregnant teenager with no money and no man. It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t even that deep.”

  I didn’t know how to feel right now. I needed to be away from her. “Would you take me to my hotel? I want to stretch my leg out, and I need to get out of here.” I moved to the door.

  Just when I put my hand on the knob I heard, “Dad?” I turned.

  Isaiah was standing behind me. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  I hobbled back to him. “Yeah, I’m going to be h
ere until Sunday.”

  Isaiah wrapped his arms around my waist and gave me a squeeze. “I’m glad I met you.”

  The ice in my heart melted a little. “I’m glad I met you too, son.” I rested a hand on top of his head and put the other around his shoulders.

  Tamar’s red eyes looked from him to me. They held so much sorrow. Genuine pain.

  I wanted to punish her, and I was succeeding. But in succeeding, I’d already forgotten Isaiah was here. I was about to leave without saying goodbye.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” I said. “We can have breakfast before the game.”

  “Cool,” Isaiah said. “My team will meet you!”

  I nodded.

  “Come on now,” Aunt Joe interjected. “Your daddy looks tired.” She placed her a hand on Isaiah’s shoulders and directed him toward his bedroom. She looked back to me and said, “We’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night, ma’am.” I force a smile I didn’t feel.

  They went down the hall to his bedroom.

  Tamar and I stood there looking at each other for a moment. Both our pain palpable in the room, but neither of us had words to make it better.

  “After you,” I said.

  Tamar picked up her bag, and we left the house.

  The car was filled with silence on the way back to the hotel. I remembered the last time Tamar and I drove in silence. It was right before the reunion in December. I was desperate to speak to her, but she was angry with me. Was that how she was feeling now? Desperate to speak to me, but my anger was keeping her words inside?

  “I appreciate tonight,” I said. I was careful to make sure I wasn’t snarky. I’d been nasty enough.

  She took her eyes off the road for a moment to steal a peek at me. “It went well.”

  “I appreciate the ride and everything.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Look, Tay, I shouldn’t have –”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she cut me off. “I didn’t expect this to be easy.”

  “I don’t have to make it harder.”

  She pulled into the parking space in front of my room. “You’re entitled to your feelings. This isn’t an easy situation.”

  “It’s not,” I said. “But I’m trying.”

  “Don’t worry. I can take it. I’m pretty tough.” She didn’t look at me when she said that. She stared straight ahead like she was digging into her internal reserve for more resilience.

  I was convicted. I wasn’t supposed to be toughening her up. That wasn’t what a man did to any woman. He certainly didn’t do it to a woman he loved.

  I looked at her profile. I loved her. Maybe that was a part of my frustration. She’d had my child, and she still didn’t love me enough to fight for us.

  “Do you need me to get you anything before I go back to the house?” Tamar half turned her head in my direction. “There’s a big convenience store up the road. They have pretty much everything.”

  “No, I’m good.” I said. “Tay—”

  Tamar didn’t look at me. She raised a hand to her lips and closed her eyes. “I have nothing left, Stephen. I’m emotionally spent, so let’s call it a night.”

  I didn’t know what I was going to say anyway. I pulled on the handle and got out of the car. “Breakfast tomorrow.”

  “I’ll text you when we’re on the way.”

  I backed away from the car. She pulled out of the space and sped as quickly as she could out of the parking lot.

  Conviction came down on me. Heavy. Just months ago, I wanted her to forgive me for her years of pain and now I wouldn’t forgive her for the same. I was feeling like a hypocrite.

  I booked a car service online and spent the rest of the weekend being chauffeured around. Fitting into Tamar’s small car was difficult with my leg. I also didn’t want to spend every minute of the next two days looking into those big, brown eyes of hers.

  I’d been fighting to push down my feelings for her since she broke up with me, but now being this close was making everything bubble back up to the surface. Rejection was the last thing I needed. I was already fighting my body. I didn’t need to fight with her, too.

  I didn’t leave Yancy until the bodyguard I’d hired arrived and was in place to protect my son. I was glad I had acted quick on that, because by Sunday, there were four reporters camped out on Aunt Joe’s street. The picture the reporter had taken in the restaurant was released on Saturday and had been duplicated hundreds of times all over blogs and social media. I was trending. Again.

  Even triflin’ Debra chimed in on Twitter with:

  Pierce fertility ain’t for play-play, ladies. All he needs is one shot. #potent

  The following week was a three-day weekend from school for Isaiah, so I had Tamar bring him to Pennsylvania. My parents and I drove to Pine. Isaiah got to meet our parents and cousins and see where we grew up.

  Tamar didn’t join us for the visits. By now, the entire town knew she’d had a baby back in the day, and she was uncomfortable with the stares and questions, or at least that’s what she said.

  I had to be back for therapy on Monday, so my parents and I were heading back to New Jersey Sunday night. Before we left, I asked Tamar if she and I could talk.

  I entered Tamar’s father’s house. Isaiah was in the kitchen playing checkers with her father.

  Tamar and I were quiet. Neither of us knew what to say, but I asked for the time, so I broke the ice. “They enjoyed getting to know him.”

  She nodded. “He told me all about it. I’m sorry I didn’t hang out with you all this weekend. I really felt the weight of their disappointment. I could see it in their eyes. The lost time. It was hard enough dealing with it with you.”

  “Is that the real reason you stayed holed up this weekend?”

  “What else would it be?”

  “Everybody else,” I asked.

  “Well, we know I’m never not going to be the subject of gossip here, but no. I feel bad. About everybody. My father. Your parents. I never thought about where this could go. I just didn’t.”

  “Our parents will be okay.”

  Tamar’s eyes were filled with tears that were bursting to spill down her cheeks. “This is their grandchild they missed out on,” she said. “We’re both only children. What if there are no more grandchildren?”

  I chuckled. “Hold up. First of all, I’m having some more children. We need to get that out in the heavenly reproductive realm right now.”

  Tamar cracked a hint at a smile. “And you’re not talking about Debra’s little saint?”

  “Girl, don’t play. Ain’t nobody talking about that unfortunate child that crazy woman is carrying.”

  Tamar cleared her throat. “Well, that solves the more grandchildren issue for your parents. I can’t say the same for my dad.”

  She sucked the air right out of my lungs. I’d thought about our children so much before the breakup. In my mind, we had a short engagement, got married, and pregnant almost immediately. That was the dream. I’d shared it with her, but she’d clearly moved on from it. I wasn’t ready to let her go.

  “What’s second of all?” she asked.

  I’d been caught up in my thoughts. She could tell I hadn’t heard her, so she repeated herself.

  Tamar needed me to absolve her of blame. I could feel her need, so instead of saying the silly thing I was going to say, I said, “I was thinking, I can’t speak for your dad, but my parent’s only child should have done better.”

  Tamar cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Tay, I owe you two dollars right now.”

  Tamar’s mouth slid into an easy smile, so did mine. It felt good to lighten the mood. “I haven’t heard that in a while,” she said.

  “Maybe that’s part of our problem.” I hesitated for a moment, nostalgia filling my heart. “Do you remember the first time I offered to pay you to talk to me?”

  She pursed
her lips. “Of course, I do. We were twelve and it was over gym class.”

  “Yeah, and I made you mad because I picked Billy Rogers to be on my team for kickball instead of you.”

  Tamar put a hand on her hip. “That was unforgivable. You forced me to play on Angie Smith’s team. I couldn’t stand her, and you knew it.”

  My mind went back to that. “You didn’t talk to me for a week. I had to fix it. You were my best friend.” I remembered how I offered her a dollar if she would talk to me, and she did. Then I was able to apologize. Every time I made her angry, I offered her money to break the ice. By the time we got to high school, I was up to two dollars because my offenses were more serious.

  “So,” she said breaking through my thoughts, “what have you done now?”

  I released a deep breath before saying, “This situation with our parents is my fault, too. I’m the reason they don’t know their grandson and so are they.” I paused. Tamar’s expression was unreadable. She cut her eyes away from mine and then back like she was struggling with her emotions.

  “You were right. All of them would have freaked if they’d known you were pregnant. None of it would have been handled well. You knew that. Even if I struggled to admit it and even though I hate that I missed knowing my son – back then it would have been a nightmare. My parents would have tripped. Your father wouldn’t have been much better.”

  Tamar hung her head for a moment.

  I lifted her chin. “Aside from that, I’m not letting anyone disrespect you or make you feel bad. You’re the mother of my child. You made sure he was safe and taken care of. You made sure he had love, even if it wasn’t mine. You could have had an abortion. You could have given him up in a sealed adoption. You could have done a lot of things, but you protected him. I love you for that. Do you understand me? I love you for the choice you made.”

  Tamar was visibly shook. “I didn’t think you would ever forgive me. I didn’t expect it to happen so fast.”

  “That wouldn’t make me a very good Christian would it?”