Читать книгу Always in My Heart - Kayla Perrin - Страница 13

Chapter 4

After Callie left Nigel’s house, her heart beat furiously the entire walk back to Uncle Dave’s place. Her stomach was so upset, she actually felt pain.

Telling Nigel that he was a father had been the hardest thing she had ever done. The look on his face, one of utter devastation, still haunted her. At first, he had been bewildered, but the stunned look on his face had quickly morphed into devastation as he had accepted the truth.

Then had come the anger.

He had a right to be angry, absolutely he did, but Callie couldn’t imagine how things would go between them from here on out. Clearly, they would have to spend time together in order for Nigel to get to know Kwame. But if how she felt now was any indication of how awkward she would feel when she brought Kwame around, she wasn’t certain she could handle it.

You can, she told herself. If you can handle Auntie Jean dying, you can handle this. If you could handle your mother disappearing, you can handle this.

This was just another hard thing in her life that she had to deal with.

Her mind replayed her meeting with Nigel. He hadn’t been easy on her, which she understood, but some of his comments were uncalled for. It was clear he was automatically thinking the worst of her, despite the fact that she had come to rectify a wrong. Yes, her actions ten years ago had been despicable, and she supposed he simply couldn’t trust that her motives now were altruistic. Too much time had passed for her to expect him to know her anymore.

He did, however, seem to sense that there was something more going on with her, as evidenced by his asking more than once about her injuries. Callie hoped her lie would satisfy him, because she didn’t want to get into the real reason of why her arm and head had been hurt. Her friend Tamara’s plight wasn’t his problem. And the last thing she wanted to appear to be doing was using Tamara’s dilemma to gain any sympathy from him.

She supposed she should be happy that he’d let her into the house, allowed her any time to speak.

Her stomach tickled as she recalled the first sight of him after ten years. He still looked good. She had always loved his tall frame, and his six-foot-two body was now packed with more muscles than when she had last seen him.

He had been attractive then, with his easy smile, bright eyes and that chiseled jawline. But good Lord, he was even more handsome now.

Callie frowned as she turned onto the street that would lead back to her childhood home. Was she actually feeling a stirring in her gut? A pull of attraction for the man she had once loved?

It was insane, wasn’t it?

And yet when she thought of him again, wearing only an undershirt, and the sight of his strong, hard muscles and that smooth dark skin…

She was insane. Clearly, she was. How could she feel any morsel of a reaction to his looks after all this time?

The answer to that was clear. She may have put time and distance between them, emotionally cutting him off, but her body still reacted to him as a woman.

* * *

As Nigel headed toward the courthouse, he couldn’t even force himself to think about the murder case where he was about to give testimony. Instead, his mind was on Callie and her bombshell.

There he was at home, getting ready for work as usual, and before he’d left his house he had learned that he was a father.

A father… He had a son.

Nigel was experiencing a whole host of emotions that he couldn’t make sense of. He thought he would only feel anger and betrayal, but there were other emotions in the mix.

And of those, the overwhelming emotion was fear.

He was a father.

Tomorrow, he would meet his son for the first time.

This was wrong. A man shouldn’t meet his son for the first time at nine years old. He should meet him in the hospital, the moment he is born.

Nigel’s hands felt jittery, and he clenched the steering wheel of his unmarked police car to steady them. Had he ever been this anxious? He was scared to meet his child, and that was wrong on so many levels.

Perhaps scared was the wrong word. But he was definitely nervous. Because nine years was a long time for his child to have not known him. What if he didn’t like him? What if he rejected him as his father? Those were very real possibilities, all because Callie had selfishly lied. He didn’t care if they had broken up at the time. She had to know that he was the kind of man who would have done right by his child, no ifs, ands, or buts.

She’d taken away his right to be a father, and that was unforgivable.

As the downtown courthouse came into view, Nigel drew in a deep breath hoping to calm himself. He was angry, yes. But he knew he had to find a way to move past the angry feelings, because they would not be constructive in this situation.

Because the bottom line was that he was father. In an instant, he had learned that he was responsible for the rearing of a human being.

* * *

Callie had planned to go directly to Uncle Dave’s house, but instead she kept walking. She strolled the streets of her old neighborhood, marveling at how different it looked. As a teen, the streets had seemed so big and almost intimidating. But as an adult, they were so much smaller.

As she walked, her mind was on the pressing situation at hand. She would have to talk with her son. She would have to explain to him that he had a father, and that he was going to meet him very soon.

All night, Callie had been concerned about Nigel’s reaction to her deception. Now, she was worried about her son’s reaction. The son she had always told to tell the truth no matter the consequences, would no doubt be hurt to know that she had not been truthful with him.

She could only do what had to be done, and hope that her son understood.

She made her way back to the house, where upon entry, she could see everyone was in the kitchen at the back. Kwame was seated at the table with Natalie and Uncle Dave, while Deanna was at the stove, tending to a pan of sizzling bacon. Kwame was chuckling about something someone had said.

“Naw, not really,” Kwame said.

“I don’t believe that,” Natalie responded. “I’m certain you’re very popular at your school. I know your mother’s going to have to watch over you like a hawk. All those girls who’ll want to date you…”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Callie entered the kitchen. “Hiya, everyone. Exactly what are you all talking about?”

“We were telling your son how handsome he is,” Natalie explained, running a hand over his head.

Deanna, who was at the stove cooking, grinned at her. “And we were finding out the skinny on if he has any girlfriends.”

“Girlfriends?” Callie asked, surprised. “He’s nine.”

“Times have changed,” Uncle Dave said.

“That’s for sure,” Natalie agreed. “Love blooms younger than that these days. I have friends who tell me that their five- and six-year-olds are talking about who their girlfriends and boyfriends are in their classrooms. Obviously it’s all very innocent at that age, but still.”

“I’m certain my son has no girlfriends,” Callie said. And she was happy to keep it that way, as her son was too young for that nonsense.

But when Kwame actually flashed a nervous look, then glanced downward, Callie couldn’t have been more surprised.

Did he have a girlfriend? Obviously not a girlfriend in the true sense of the word, but someone that he liked?

She made her way over to him and sat at the table beside him. “Son? You—you have a girlfriend?”

“Well, I do kind of like this one girl in my class. Felicity.”

“Felicity?” Callie repeated, stunned. Her son had never mentioned this to her.

Kwame shrugged. “Kind of. A little.”

Callie knew that he and Felicity liked to study together, and she was one of the girls in the neighborhood who lived close enough that they could hang out sometimes. But to learn that her son actually had a crush on her…

Well, she supposed everyone had their secrets.

“Help yourself to coffee,” Deanna said. “We waited until Kwame woke up to start breakfast, so your timing is good. The scrambled eggs and bacon are almost done. And there are fresh biscuits in the oven.”

The kind of breakfast Auntie Jean used to make on a weekend morning. Callie’s stomach growled but, although she was hungry, she knew she was too anxious to eat. “I’ll just have some of that coffee for now.”

“You’re not eating?” Natalie asked.

Callie shook her head. “Not yet.”

Natalie held her gaze for a beat, then nodded. She was clearly curious as to how the meeting with Nigel went, but she knew she would have to wait to ask.

Callie went over to the coffeepot and poured herself a tall mug. She hadn’t had the tea at Nigel’s place, and she needed this.

“It really is nice to have you all here,” Uncle Dave said. “You’re filling this house with warmth, now that your Auntie Jean’s gone.”

Taking a seat between Uncle Dave and Kwame, Callie patted her uncle’s hand. Not for the first time, she thought about how she had always hoped to marry a man who loved her as much as Uncle Dave had loved her aunt.

“It does me good, having you here with me,” he said. “It’s been too long.”

“I know,” Callie said softly. “I know.”

She was going to tell Kwame that they needed to talk, but no one had eaten yet, so Callie decided to wait until he’d finished his breakfast. She had a second cup of coffee, but nothing else. She couldn’t eat when she was anxious.

There was more laughter during the breakfast conversation, but at one point there were also tears. Each day, Auntie Jean’s passing would get a little easier to bear, but she knew there were still many tears to come.

After Kwame was finished, Callie pushed her chair back and stood. She placed her hand on his shoulder and said, “Son, we need to have a talk.”

Kwame looked up at her and concern. “Is everything okay?”

Given that she hadn’t eaten, Callie knew he would be concerned. She preached the value of eating a good breakfast. “Yes,” she told him, patting his shoulder. “I’m fine. It’s just…I need to have a private talk with you about something.”

Kwame looked at her with curious eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, son. You didn’t do anything wrong. We just need to talk, that’s all.”

As she left the kitchen, Callie looked over her shoulder. Deanna gazed at her and nodded, silently giving her encouragement.

Though Deanna and Natalie had spoken in general at breakfast, Callie noted that they hadn’t truly spoken to each other. There was clearly still awkwardness, which she supposed was to be expected, given the rift that had been between them.

But that was an issue Callie would have to worry about later. For now, she had to deal with breaking the news to her son that he had a father.

Walking with him upstairs, she led him to the bedroom, then sat him on the bed. She took a seat beside him and covered his hands with hers.

“What is it, Mom?” Kwame asked, his eyes wide with concern.

“I have something important to tell you.” She sighed. “And it’s not easy for me. But I want you to know that whatever questions you have, I’ll answer. Okay?”

Kwame nodded. “Okay.”

Callie paused a moment, gathering her courage, then forged ahead. “Remember how when you asked me who your father was, and I told you he was someone from my past? That I had my reasons for leaving him and didn’t want to say much more?”

Kwame nodded. “Yeah.”

Callie had known that her son had more questions, but he had respected her. He was sensitive that way. She guessed that he assumed she would tell him more when she was ready.

“Well, I want to tell you about your father now. He lives here, in Cleveland.”

She watched as his eyes grew as wide as saucers. “He does?”

“Yeah.”

A long beat passed. Then Kwame softly said, “I always thought my dad was dead.”

“You did?”

“Uh-huh. I thought…I thought if he was alive, you would have told me about him.”

Callie smiled softly. Of course. In his young mind, he had come up with a reasonable explanation for his father’s absence in his life. Because Kwame knew other kids whose parents weren’t together, but they still had a relationship with both their mother and father. He had clearly figured his father was dead for him not to know him at all.

The fact that Kwame had assumed his father was deceased made Callie feel even worse for her having kept him in the dark all these years.

“He’s definitely not dead,” Callie said. “And what I’m going to say may be hard for you to hear. I only hope that you know that it wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

Kwame nodded.

“Your father and I…before you were born, we’d had our differences. Differences that led me to believe that raising you alone was the best thing. I didn’t even tell him I was pregnant.” Callie paused, noted that her son was looking at her with interest and compassion, not judgment. He was wise beyond his years.

“It was the wrong decision, honey. And a big part of me feels embarrassed to admit this to you, but I don’t want you to be mad at him.”

“So he never knew about me?” Kwame asked. “At all?”

“No, sweetheart. I want to make that clear to you. It’s not like your father knew you existed and chose not to be a part of your life. I…I feel awful for what I did, but all I can say is that at the time, I had my reasons. Reasons that seemed good to me. A lot has happened in the last couple weeks that has made it clear that I was wrong, and that you ought to know who your father is.” Callie paused. “So that’s where I went this morning. To see your father and tell him about you.”

Kwame was silent, and Callie could see in his eyes that he was processing everything. After several seconds, he asked, “What did he say?”

“That he wants to meet you.”

Kwame’s smile was hesitant. “He did?”

“Of course.” She ran a hand over his head affectionately. “Of course he would.” She kissed Kwame’s cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him before, but I was scared.”

“You were?”

“Yes. With each day that passed that I didn’t tell you about your father and where he lived, it became harder to know what to say to you when the time came. Mostly because I wasn’t ready to contact him about you. I was worried about how he would react if I told him the truth.”

“Was he mad?”

Callie nodded. “Uh-huh,” she said, opting for the truth. “But he had a right to be. And he could have been more upset. But the most important thing for him was learning that he had a son.”

Another pause ensued. Then Kwame asked, “What’s his name?”

“His name is Nigel. Nigel Williams.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s a police officer. Actually, a detective. He solves murders.”

“Cool,” Kwame said.

Callie was glad that her son was immediately warming to the idea of having a father, rather than being shocked and hurt that she hadn’t told him the truth all along.

But he didn’t say what she had expected him to say, that he wanted to meet his father, so Callie asked. “Honey, do you want to meet him? I know this is all so sudden—”

“I want to meet him today,” Kwame said with enthusiasm. Then he immediately glanced away. “Unless…unless you don’t want me to.”

Callie’s heart ached to hear those words from her son’s mouth, but could she blame him? “The whole reason I’m telling you about him is because I want you to get to know him,” she explained. “I figured that you might need some time before meeting him, to process it all, but it seems that you’re as eager to meet him as he is to meet you.”

“Will it be today?” Kwame expelled an audible breath, one full of nervousness.

“As I said, your father is a police officer, so he’s got to go to court today and work later, but tomorrow morning, we’ll go meet him. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Kwame said.

“Great.” Now Callie was the one to exhale nervously. This was really going to happen. Kwame and Nigel would finally meet.

“Can I go downstairs now?” Kwame asked.

“Of course.”

As he bounded out of the room, a smile touched Callie’s lips. Her son had taken this news very well.

Thank God for the resilience of children.

But the real test would come tomorrow.