Page 17 of Accidental Dad’s Best Friend (Unintentionally Yours #7)

Izzy

H e’s looking for me.

After years of not caring where I was, what I was doing, whether or not I was okay, my dad is looking for me. And I know better than to think it’s because he cares. Because the only person Liam Sloane cares about is Liam Sloane.

But for some reason, he wants to know now.

The timing is a bit concerning. Ethan insisted that he doesn’t know anything, doesn’t suspect anything but I’m not so sure.

Despite having a head full of hot air, my dad is not a stupid man.

Quite the opposite really. Knowing that he is online scouting for clues about where I went and what I am doing has me on edge.

I find myself locking not just the doors but the windows.

I lay awake at night thinking about all the ways he could be searching for me.

I don’t have social media and I don’t have a LinkedIn.

And my blog is not under my real name. Not only that, but Jaxon doesn’t have my last name.

I did not want him to be a Sloane. Maybe someday I won’t be either.

It’s a sunny Tuesday when I go to pick Jax up from school. It’s hot, even though we are past summer, and even in a light, linen jumper that I found at a thrift store earlier in the morning, I’m sweating.

“Some heat, huh?” Rosilyn’s voice comes from behind me as she walks up.

“No kidding,” I grumble, tugging at my dress to free myself up a little bit. “I could go for a drink.”

“That kind of day?”

“That kind of week.”

“It’s Tuesday.” She smiles and I laugh.

“What even are days anymore?”

Rosilyn touches my arm. “I feel you. Being a mom isn’t easy. Not to mention a single mom.”

“Yeah,” I sigh.

She studies me for a minute before going on. “I have a thought. Have you taken Jaxon to the splash pad yet?”

“There’s a splash pad?” I pant, holding my hair up from my neck.

“Right around the corner from the coffee shop. I think it’s in front of a microbrewery actually. And a shaved ice cart usually sets up out front.”

“So we can get the boys snow cones, let them run around in the water–”

“And sit on a shaded patio while sipping adult beverages and have some girl time all in one shot. Yes.”

“Count me in.” I say quickly and she laughs.

We stop at our house on the way to the splash pad to grab swim trunks, sunscreen and towels. Rosilyn and Luca live just down the way but in the opposite direction so we offer to let Luca borrow trunks from Jax.

“Oh to be the same size as your bestie,” I say as the boys run around in their trunks. Meanwhile I use a mirror on the wall of the living room to put my hair up.

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Women can’t really do that, can we?

” Rosilyn asks, roaming around the living room and kitchen admiring everything.

It’s kind of funny. I have always been a minimalist, but even more so since I had Jax.

I guess I was always worried I might have to uproot without much notice so I don’t really hoard too much stuff.

But Rosilyn admires the wall art, the bookshelves that I snagged from yard sales and repurposed, even the furniture I found at an estate sale.

“It would be like Sisterhood of the Travelling pants.” I muse.

“And that would never happen in real life,” she comes up behind me so I can see her in the mirror. “I mean look at me. Skinny as a rail with no curve to make a single pair of jeans on the planet flattering. And then there’s you. Perfectly hourglass.’

“You mean thick?” I ask dryly.

“Men love that!” She blurts out.

“Maybe. I don’t really pay attention.”

“You don’t date?” She asks curiously.

“Not if I can help it,” I say around the bobby pin in my mouth.

“Well I bet that makes a lot of men sad.”

I shrug and we grab everything, heading out the door. “I don’t know. Most men don’t act like men, I find.”

“You have to date up.” She winks. “Both in age and salary.”

“I suppose.” I smile.

Once the boys are lotioned up and have had their rainbow snow cones, we take a seat at the outdoor bar of the brewery while they play in the splash pad out front.

“This is amazing,” I sigh, leaning back in my chair.

It’s a genius set up really, with indoor and outdoor seating, plenty of shade and even misters for the heat.

Rosilyn is sipping on a seltzer and I found a lavender lemon shandy that they even garnished with a sugar rim.

It’s the girliest beer I’ve ever heard of but in this heat, it’s positively lovely.

“I’ll be frank,” Rosiyln says with a sigh as we watch the boys skip around in the fountains. “Single mom life is no joke. But moments like this make it worth it.”

“It’s hard for sure,” I agree. “But I wouldn’t change it.”

“Can I ask a question?”

“Sure,” I nod. I am enjoying the company and love that Jax has a friend. But a part of me, any time someone wants to ask a question, slides a guard up.

“Where is Jaxon’s father?”

And that is the exact question that throws that wall up. But luckily, I’ve been asked that enough to have an answer on tap, even if it’s not a true answer.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” I say. Rosilyn doesn’t prod but I can tell she wants to know more. I can feel it. So I go on. “It was a one time thing. I haven’t spoken to him since.”

“So he doesn’t even know he has a son?”

“Nope.” I take a sip of my beer. That’s a question a lot of people get judgey about.

But this road is harder to walk than people think.

“A lot of people would say that’s shitty of me.

That I should have reached out to him to at least let him know.

But we didn’t use a condom. It was a very…

spontaneous…hook-up. Men aren’t as stupid as we give them credit for.

Selfish maybe. Asinine from time to time.

But not stupid. They know full well they could get women pregnant if they aren’t careful.

But they don’t care. And Jaxon doesn’t need a man in his life that doesn’t care. ”

It’s the answer that I wrote up five years ago when I was first asked about it.

A nurse, actually, in the L&D department needed to know things for the birth certificate.

I came up with that spiel word for word and always recite it verbatim.

Now, though, for some reason, it feels odd. Less natural. Unjust in a way.

“Well there is nothing wrong with trying to protect your child. Like you said, men can just up and leave. We can’t. I mean we could but never would.”

“What about you?” I ask, sipping on my beer slowly. I don’t need to drink more than one but this is the kind of drink you could finish fast if you’re not careful. I want to savor it.

“Luca’s dad is my ex. Boyfriend, not husband.

If you could even call him that. I guess it’s more complicated than that,” she smiles.

Then she takes a sip of her drink and watches Luca for a moment before going on.

“He was actually my previous boss. I was like a personal assistant for him. Running errands, scheduling everything for him. Even when I clocked out, I spent a lot of my free time making sure he had what he needed. It wasn’t right I suppose, but I liked feeling needed.

I’ve always liked feeling needed. And I think he appreciated me too.

But one night, as a thank you of sorts, he took me to dinner. And it went too far.”

“Does he know? About Luca?” I ask softly.

“He does. And he doesn’t want to have anything to do with him. He doesn’t even want anyone to know.”

“Did you take him to court?” I ask, getting heated for her.

“He told me that if I kept my mouth shut, he’d send child support. All under the table, unofficial. Literal envelopes of cash left on my desk.”

I sit up. “He gave you cash in an envelope?”

She nods slowly. That way it wasn’t traceable. Every week I’d come in on Monday to a stack of cash. Until…it stopped.”

“What do you mean stopped?”

Rosilyn is smiling but it's a sad smile. “I came in one Monday and the entire office was in an uproar. Rob, as it turned out, had quit. He didn’t give any notice, didn’t tell anyone where he was going.

He was just gone. And on my desk, was one last envelope.

But this time, along with the cash, there was a letter inside the envelope.

All it said was that he couldn’t do it anymore. ”

“And he was just gone?”

“He was just gone.”

I lean back, letting out a breath. “Jesus Christ.”

“Luckily I’ve found a new job. It pays well so we are fine. I actually saved all the money Rob had given me and was able to use it as a downpayment for our townhouse here. But yeah. It’s wild.”

“No shit.” I shake my head.

“You know what’s bad?” Rosilyn leans in. “I feel more sorry for myself than I do for Luca. Like I think I actually thought Rob might care about me. But obviously he didn’t. But that will never happen again. Next time, the man I give my heart to will stay. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Good for you.” I nod, still trying to wrap my brain around all of it.

“Yep,” she smiles again. “Nothing will get in my way when I’m in love.”

That night, Jaxon falls asleep with ease. Nothing like playing hard in the sunshine and a sugar crash to wear you out. After a bath and a bedtime story, he falls asleep before the book is even over and I set it aside, giving him a kiss on the cheek before walking out.

I love him. But I also love the quiet that falls over the house when he’s in bed.

While he is my whole life, my whole reason for being who I am, I find myself again in the quiet moments.

It’s when I write, both my blog and journaling that it is only for me.

I’ve even thought about publishing my own work from time to time.

The idea of writing words for myself instead of words that I am selling to someone else sounds like a distant dream as a writer.

I make myself a cup of Earl Gray tea, change into comfy clothes and sit down on the couch with my laptop. I should be working on the article, but honestly, I could really just use a break right now. Maybe I’ll write some poetry–

A sudden crash makes me jump. It’s after 9pm and pitch black outside save for the moonlight and a few soft porch lights. Usually this neighborhood is quiet and peaceful. But whatever that was, was enough to make me leap out of my own skin.

It was a crash right outside my door. On my doorstep even. Almost like something being thrown against the door itself.

I get up and check on Jax, who is still fast asleep. I double check that his window is locked and pad my way back to the living room. Maybe it was just a bird or something, flying into the door. Maybe it was teenagers. Maybe–

A smack against the window of the kitchen makes me yelp.

I cover my mouth with my hand so I don’t wake Jax.

Then, slowly, I walk over to the window.

My mouth drops in horror when I see the glass is cracked.

Still, I don’t see anything or anyone. But it definitely wasn’t in my head.

And I don’t think it was a drive-by either because this window doesn’t face the street.

It’s within the gated yard out back, actually.

I back up, and go in Jax’s room. Then I close the door and lock it before crawling into bed with him. With trembling hands, I call Ethan.