Page 55
Story: One More Chance
I’d give him until the end of the day to call me back.
The hours ticked on, and I watched my phone incessantly. Brody and I did our chores, then settled in for a movie that made us both belly laugh until we cried. I ran around with him outside and watched as he climbed the massive tree in our front yard. He couldn’t get too far on his own, so we ran to the store and I bought a rope climb for him, then tied it off on one of the branches and watched him work his way up and down the tree.
And still, Tyler hadn’t called.
After feeding my son dinner and standing by while he took a shower, I got him ready for bed. It had officially been three days since I’d spoken with Tyler, and there wasn’t anything in regard to communication from his end. No missed calls. No emails. No texts. Nothing. It was as if he had disappeared off the face of the planet.
I helped Brody into his pajamas and then he went diving into his bed, and my heart stopped in my chest as he looked up at me. It was the eyes of his father that gazed into mine.
“Sweetheart, you know Mommy loves you, right?” I asked.
“Uh huh.”
“So you know that I would never want to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“And you know that I always want to keep you away from anything that might cause you pain.”
“I love you too, Mommy.”
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I said.
He sat up in bed as I held out my arm for him. He nestled into my side, and I closed my eyes. Shit. This was really happening. I was about to deliver this news without his father by our side. I kissed the top of his head and willed my tears to stay at bay, hoping and praying my phone would ring.
I listened for it, for any sound that might indicate Tyler was contacting me.
But the only sound I could hear was that of our breathing filling the room.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Brody asked.
“Do you remember when we were eating lunch the other day and my friend Tyler showed up?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Sweetheart, Tyler isn’t simply a friend of mine.”
“He’s not?”
“No, he’s not. He’s actually a very special person. He helped me make a very special person who I enjoy every day of my life with.”
“What do you mean?”
I shuffled in front of my son and took his hands in mine.
“You know how you have all these questions about your father? And how I try to answer them as best as I can?”
“Yeah. You told me that Daddy is really smart.”
“He is. Do you remember what else I told you about him?”
“That you loved him and he loved you, and that’s how I came along, because your love was really strong. So strong that it made me.”
“Exactly. Well, Tyler is the man I loved, the man who helped me make you.”
Brody’s eyes bulged, and I drew in a deep breath.
“Tyler’s your father, sweetheart.”
His wide eyes showed a hurt that was unexplainable. He sank back into his pillows as tears crested his eyes. He pulled his hands away from me, and the move broke my heart in two. In an instant, I was at his side, brushing away his tears and smoothing his shaggy hair from his eyes and trying to comfort my son during this confusing time.
“You said Tyler was a friend.”
“I’m sorry. I know I did. Tyler is a friend, a very good one. One I loved and cherished, just like I do you.”
“So, he’s here.”
“He is.”
“He’s here, like in town,” he said.
“He is.”
“Then why isn’t he with us?”
That one question shattered my already broken heart into a million pieces, and tears crested my eyes. Brody buried himself into me, wrapping his arms around my neck. His shoulders moved with his sobs, and it shattered my world, filled me with an unexplainable anger toward Tyler.
And yet I was just as responsible. I had never wanted to hurt my son. I had never wanted to see him like this.
“Why isn’t Daddy here?” he asked.
“Because Daddy didn’t know he was a daddy until a few days ago.”
Brody pulled back and wiped at his tears before his dark green eyes found mine.
“What?” he asked.
“When I was growing you, Daddy didn’t know. Daddy was off getting really smart and making sure he could take care of himself. And when he came home, I told him about us.”
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
“So he knows. He should be here, Mom. Why doesn’t he want to be with me?”
“It’s got nothing to do with that,” I said as I wiped his tears away.
“Does he not like me?”
“Oh no, sweetheart. Oh, it’s nothing like that. He likes you. In fact, he loves you, very much.”
“Then he should be here.”
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