“Of course. I can’t turn off feelings just because I was hurt. It’s going to take effort to move on from Drew.”
“Do me a favor? Don’t start trying too hard yet. I’m still holding out hope my friend is going to pull his head out of his ass.”
Drew
I don’t sweat.
I’ve stood up in court and flown by the seat of my pants when a witness changed his testimony and a judge was staring down his nose at me—nothing. Yet somehow, today I had to blot my forehead, and the paper napkin stuck to my sweaty palms.
Why did I have to do this today? I wasn’t ready. Beck wasn’t ready. But that wouldn’t stop my ex-wife. She’d threatened to tell Beck when I returned him later tonight if I didn’t, and though she wasn’t a woman of her word, I was certain she’d make good on this threat.
It was the second time in as many weeks that I was channeling my father. Rip the Band-Aid off was his favorite cliché. I only hoped my son’s face didn’t look anything like Emerie’s did when I broke things off.
I turned to Beck, who was belly laughing watching cartoons, and looked at my watch. Shit. I was out of time to stall.
“Beck? Buddy? I need to talk to you about something before you go back to Mommy’s tonight. Do you think you can turn off the TV?”
He turned to me, such a sweet, easygoing boy. “Okay, Daddy.”
After he got up and grabbed the remote from the desk, he sat back down and turned, giving me his full attention. My mouth was suddenly dry, making it hard to speak. There was no easy way to break this to a kid, no matter how I padded it.
“Is everything okay? You look like I do before I barf.” Beck stood. “Do you want me to get you a bucket like you do for me when I barf?”
I laughed nervously. “No, buddy. I don’t need a bucket.” At least I don’t think I do. “Sit down. It’s about me being your daddy.”
His face fell. “Are you not going to be my daddy anymore? Is that why you won’t take me home to your house?”
I might need that bucket after all. “Oh, God. Nothing like that at all. I’m never going to stop being your daddy. But…” Fuck it, here it goes. “But some kids are lucky and have more than two parents.”
His eyes lit up. “Are you going to marry Emerie?”
Jesus. That hurt on so many levels. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Beck. No.”
He was getting excited and went off track. “Because Mikayla from school has a stepmom. Her parents are divorced like you and Mommy, and now she has two mommies.”
“No. Well, yes. No. Sort of. The thing is…I’m actually your stepdad.”
“So I have two dads?” He scrunched up his nose.
“You do. When you were born, your mom and I were married. I didn’t know you weren’t my…” I felt the words start to bubble in my throat and had to clear it a few times to fight off showing how upset I was. I needed Beck to know what I was telling him would have no effect on our relationship, and my crying wouldn’t send the right message.
I started again. “I didn’t know you weren’t…my son, biologically, until years after you were born.”
“If you’re not my blogical dad, then who is?”
“It’s a man named Levi. Mom says you’ve met him already a few times.”
His eyes lit up. “The race car driver?”
I was emotionally conflicted. While it sucked for me that he was excited about that asshole being related to him, if it made it easier for him to accept the news, I was all for that.
“Yes. The race car driver.”
“He drives a cool car! It’s got a hood scoop, and it’s loud.”
I forced a smile. “Your mom is going to have you start to get to know Levi. But it doesn’t mean that anything is going to change between you and me.”
He thought about everything I’d said for a moment, then asked, “Do you still love me?”
Beck might be almost seven and starting to get too cool to hold my hand as he walked into school, but all bets were off now. I hoisted him onto my lap and spoke directly into his eyes. “I love you more than anything in this world.”
“So you’re not leaving me because I have a new dad?”
“No, Beck. I’d never leave you. People don’t leave when they love someone. They stick around forever. That’s why I’m moving to Atlanta. Your mom brought you down here, and I go where you go.”
“Did my blogical dad not love me, and that’s why we lived in New York?”
Jesus. He had some tough questions.
“I know it’s confusing, but Levi didn’t know you were his son when you were born. So he didn’t get a chance to know you. Now that he knows, he’s gonna love you too, I’m sure.”
I realized it was time I sat down and had a talk with Levi to make sure my son would be the priority he needed to be. If he was going to be part of his life, he’d better not be a disappointment.
“Will he live here, too?”
“I’m not sure, buddy.”
“But you said people don’t leave when they love someone. So he’ll only leave if he doesn’t love me?”