“Olivia!” Shocked would be an understatement for what I felt right then watching Jamie approach me. “Oh my gosh! What are you doing here? I mean, it’s great to see you again.” He grabbed me, hugged me, and wouldn’t let go. I felt like I was breathing again for the first time in many years. “God, I’ve missed you,” he breathed, still holding onto me.
It had been a long and hard six years without him. Last we saw each other, he asked me to leave his life once and for all and never to contact him again. I choked at this memory and worked to control thinking about that night. All those times I needed him while raising Ollie. All those days I missed being loved by him. I shook my head and rid myself of these thoughts. After all, I should consider him no different than any other acquaintance—except for the fact that Oliver bound us for life.
My heart pained at his release. “Hello?” Jamie waved his hand over my face. “Are you there?”
“Sorry. I’m surprised to see you again. How are you? What brings you to New York and Central Park of all places?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing. I’ve been so stressed out with work. With it being tax season and all, I’ve been running during my lunch breaks.”
“Are you here on business?”
“No. I live in Manhattan now. I moved a few years ago.”
Here he was, in a neighboring state, and we run into each other at the park of all places with Ollie just a few steps away.
“What are you doing at a kiddie play area and in New York of all places?”
“I live in Jersey. We moved here five years ago.”
Jamie’s face looked like I just solved a riddle for him. “So that’s where you went. I went looking for you at your house after we last spoke and I couldn’t find you. Did you come here to be near your mom?”
“Yes.” My voice struggled to find a monotone. I wanted to hide my true feelings of love, desire and yearning, even now, so many years later. “It was nice seeing you again, Jamie, but I have to go.” I wanted to get away before he saw Ollie. Though I wasn’t as anxious as I thought I would be, I wasn’t ready for him to meet our son.
“Wait!” Do you have a number or an e-mail address? Can I contact you?” There was some desperation in his voice—maybe that was more my wishful thinking.
I probably gave a half smile wondering why he wanted my info. He was happily married with at least a couple of kids by now. His first child would be just a month or two younger than our Ollie. I didn’t need to complicate his life with our presence.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea. I really have to go.” Walking away, my heart broke as he let me get away from him again so easily. Deep down, I wanted him to beg me for a number. It wasn’t right of me to desire a married man. My pace hastened.
“Mommy,” Ollie called me over. “Can you push me on the swing?”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
I picked up our son and plopped him on the swing and pushed him gently.
“Mommy, that’s not high enough!” Ollie yelled. “Higher…Faster!” he yelled even louder.
I did as I was told and my son’s cackles of delight echoed through the park. I kept my head down not looking back at where I was just a minute ago. He had most likely left. There was no need to check. Jamie was not mine anymore. He had made himself clear the last time we spoke.
“I’m hungry. Can we eat, Mommy?”
Slowing down the swing, I picked up Ollie and left the sand area. “What shall we eat?”
“How about pizza?” My four-year-old could eat pizza every day if I let him.
“Again?” I kissed his nose. “All right. Let’s go eat pizza again for the third time this week.”
I looked up from Ollie’s smiling face and nearly had a heart attack when I bumped into Jamie again.
“Hey,” he called hesitantly.
“Hey,” I called back.
“Who’s this?” Jamie asked both of us.
I had no idea how I was going to explain Ollie to his father.
“I’m Oliver and I’m four, almost five. I was thwee a long time ago.” My explanation wasn’t necessary. Our loquacious four-year-old introduced himself to his daddy without missing a beat.
“Hi, Oliver. I’m Jamie. What a great name. My middle name is Oliver.”
Ollie stared at this stranger who should have been his closest friend. “Who’s this, Mommy?”
I saw the surprised look in Jamie’s eyes. I knew what he was thinking.
“Mommy?” Both Hutchison boys asked simultaneously—one out of shock, one out of curiosity.
“He’s an old friend of Mommy’s. I knew him when Dani and I used to live in Los Angeles.”
Ollie leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Could he be my daddy? Is he the one?”
Tears formed unwillingly. Lately, Ollie had been asking more frequently about his father. His father stood just a step away and I couldn’t tell him the truth.