Amelia…Emily made a move to touch Landry. “Baby. Wait, I—”
Bryan shook her head. “I’ll make sure you get to tell her bye before you leave, but she doesn’t need to be here for this conversation.”
I wasn’t so sure why B was being so nice to her mom, but it had seemed to help Landry feel calm. I waited until I heard the backdoor close before I continued. “Now who ever said that Jared had a baby? What is happening right now?” This day just went from fucking infuriating to fucking weird.
Smith’s shoulders slumped. “My family,” he pointed to Landry’s mom, “and Emily all claimed that the baby was mine. But I knew it wasn’t. I hadn’t seen her in years.”
The pieces were all starting to come together now. I went home with Jared once, early on when he was still a good guy and a fun time. We did some charity thing that Smith wanted no part of. We went out afterward, this party… “Wait a fucking minute.” I looked over at him. “The label was paying that chick off, right? The one who said she had your kid?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Money every month, like clockwork. I never put a stop to it because I figured the kid was Jared’s and better off without him.”
I whirled around. “You’ve been getting money monthly from this band for ten fucking years?! Where the hell does it go? None of Landry’s clothes fit; she was malnourished; her shoes had holes in them! Where did the money go? Up your nose? In your fucking veins?!” I took a step toward her. All goodwill I’d felt a few minutes ago was disappearing. I’d never hit a girl in my life. But in that moment, I wanted to. This was the woman who hurt my kid. “How did you even pull that off? My name was on her damn birth certificate.”
She snorted. “You really should fire your label, they never even asked for proof. Just assumed what we said was the truth.”
I took another step toward her, my anger surging.
“We?” Smith put his arm in front of me, trying to get me to back down. “I need to know. I need to know why they said the baby was mine. Please.”
I took a deep breath and looked past Amelia…Emily’s shoulder toward the street. The last thing we needed was to be having any more of this confrontation in the front yard. I opened the door a little wider and motioned for her to come inside. She stayed rooted in place. “Well?”
She peeked up at Smith through her greasy bangs, her eyes bloodshot from all the crying earlier. She nodded and then followed us into the dining room. I didn’t want her at our table. I didn’t want her to sit where my daughter sat. It was almost like her very presence was tainting the room, stealing all of Landry’s joy out of it. She wrung her hands together. I wondered if I was the only one who noticed the tremble in them. “What do you want to know?”
“Why did you say the baby was mine? Jacks and I are in the same band, the same record label. You would’ve gotten your money regardless.” Smith reached out his hand when Dylan walked into the room. He tucked her into his side. He wanted her with him; he always wanted her by his side. I looked toward the backyard. As much as I felt the same way about Bryan, I’d rather her be with Landry.
“At first I didn’t tell anyone anything.” Emily started to chew on her lower lip. “But your dad, he saw me at the grocery store. He grabbed me, lifted my shirt. He always was a sick bastard, wasn’t he?” She shrugged. “He asked whose it was. Told him it was some guy in a band. He asked if it was Jared’s. Guess he thought the same thing you did. I told him no. I told him it was some other guy. But he said I needed to claim the baby was yours, that that was the only way I’d see any money. He said he could sell the story, said he’d split the profits.”
“And you agreed with him? How fucking sick are you? You would rather get into bed with my old man than just tell the truth? Just ask us for help?” Smith was starting to lose it. I felt for him. He hated his father, and it seemed like no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the bullshit that came along with his family.
“I needed money! I had a baby on the way. My parents weren’t going to help me. What was I supposed to do?” She looked down at the table, tracing the grooves in the wood.
I sat down next to her, “Why didn’t you just tell me? Just contact me? You obviously knew she was mine. You put my name on her birth certificate.”
She let out a quick laugh, void of any humor. “We fucked in the bathroom stall of a rundown roadside bar. You didn’t give me a second glance after you were done. You never even asked me my name. So when Smith’s dad handed me an out, I went with the devil I knew.”