Page 21

21

Maya

M y interview went great. At least I think it did.

Spencer’s aunt Justine was invited in for most of it as well. She and her boss gave me a tour of the center and we talked for over an hour before her boss said she would be in touch soon.

I don’t know if she’ll be in touch in a day or so or a week. All I can do now is wait.

Which sucks, and meant another night I couldn’t sleep worth a shit.

By six-thirty the next morning, I’m sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee when Finley shuffles into the kitchen just as early. His energy is at the lowest level ever, as if picking up his feet would be too much work. That’s how I know something is off with him.

“Good morning,” I say cheerfully as I get to my feet to make him his favorite breakfast. “Are you hungry? How about some blueberry pancakes?”

“I guess.”

I smile weakly at his unenthusiastic response. He must still be waking up and is just sleepy. I start gathering up all the ingredients, trying not to let him see the worry on my face.

Finley watches me closely, his little face scrunched up in thought. “Mommy?” he asks, his voice unusually soft.

“Yes, baby?” I reply, turning to face him fully.

“Is Christian really my father?”

His question hits me like a freight train.

My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment, I can’t speak. The container of blueberries slips from my hands, spilling all over the floor.

Finley’s big, innocent eyes are staring right at me, waiting for an answer, and I have no idea what to say.

I always knew this day would come, but I wasn’t ready for it to be today. Not now. Not like this.

And I’m going to kill Christian Riley!

Last night when I got home, I knew something was wrong. Finley rarely goes to bed early without a fight, and Christian is never in such a hurry to leave, barely asking me about my interview before running out.

“Wh-why do you ask that, sweetheart?”

Finley shrugs, looking down at the table. “Last night he said he’s my father and that he lied to me all summer!”

I swallow hard around the lump in my throat. “Christian cares about you so much, Finley,” I say slowly, carefully choosing my words when I take a seat next to him at the table. “He…yes, he’s your father. But at first, you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. So, I asked him to get to know you as friends this summer. I wanted you to spend time with him before we told you.”

“Why didn’t he come play with me before this summer?”

I can’t lie to him. I won’t. Even if I’m furious with Christian for not warning me about the bomb he dropped on our son.

“That was my fault, not Christian’s,” I tell him. “You see, Christian left. He moved away to play hockey when I found out I was pregnant with you. And then I didn’t see him again until recently. You remember the day he came to the championship game with a jersey for you?”

Finley nods his head.

“That was right after he found out he was your father. He didn’t know before then or he would’ve been around more, I promise. So, that’s my fault for not finding him to tell him sooner so you could spend time together.”

“But…you and him aren’t married.”

“No, baby. We’re not married. Christian was best friends and teammates with Uncle Preston, and we were friends too. I cared about him so much before he had to leave.”

Finley stares at me for a moment, processing my words. Then he nods as if he understands more than I expected him to. “Does that mean he’s gonna keep coming over?” he asks, his voice small, like he’s afraid of the answer.

I feel my heart tighten. “Of course he’ll keep coming over. But he’ll have to go back to Greensboro soon to play for the Bobcats. We’ll go visit him when we visit Uncle Preston. And I bet he’ll call you whenever he can.”

Finley seems to accept that answer for now, but the question lingers in the air, heavy and unresolved about how much of a presence he’ll have in our life.

“Do you have any other questions about Christian?”

He shakes his head, so I give him another moment just to be sure. Finally, he asks, “Is Christian coming over to play today?”

“Do you want him to?”

“Yes. But I’m still mad at him.”

Oh, I know that feeling well.

“It’s okay to be mad or sad or anything else you feel right now,” I tell him as I give him a hug, thankful when he hugs me back. “It’s okay to be all those things and still want to spend time with Christian. He loves spending time with you.”

“I like playing with him too,” Finley says when I let him go. “And it’s pretty cool that out of all the dads in the world, he’s mine.”

“Yes, that is very cool,” I tell him before I get up and finish making him pancakes.

While I’m still a little uneasy about how Finley will handle this monumental revelation, I’m so damn relieved that it’s finally out in the open, off my shoulders.

For years, I was so focused on protecting myself, on keeping my heart locked away, that I didn’t think about what’s best for Finley.

He deserves to know Christian is his father. He deserves the chance to have that relationship with him.

I’ve known that for years.

The only problem was that I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what that meant for me as well.

Am I ready to let Christian back into my life in such a big way?

Once Finley scarfs down his pancakes, he goes to brush his teeth and clean his room. I pick up my phone, staring at the screen for what feels like forever, before finally dialing Christian’s number.

“Hey, I’m on my way over,” he answers softly, sounding gutted. That’s the only reason I don’t lay into him.

“You should’ve told me.”

“I know,” he replies with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Maya. I wasn’t planning to tell him last night, I swear. You know I wanted to, but I was trying to be patient. Then, the topic of dads came up and Finley was wishing he knew more about his father, about the kind of job he had. So, I caved and told him the truth.”

Based on his distressed tone and Finley’s sluggish demeanor this morning, I say, “I assume it didn’t go as well as you hoped?”

“It did not. Finley ran off to his room, slammed the door, and refused to let me in or talk to me.”

“Oh. Well, welcome to the parent club,” I tell him.

“What do you mean?”

“That’s pretty much our son’s normal reaction to anything and everything that upsets him.”

There’s a long pause. “So, I didn’t ruin everything? You think he’ll forgive me?”

“No, Christian, you didn’t ruin anything. I’m sure he’ll forgive you like he always forgives me,” I explain to him. “Finley asked me this morning to confirm that it was true. I also told him that you staying away for so long wasn’t your choice, that it was mine.”

“Maya…you didn’t have to do that,” he says softly.

“No, I did need to say it, to be honest with him. He should know that it wasn’t your fault for not being a part of his life sooner. I take full responsibility for that. I’m so sorry my issues kept you from him for so long.”

“You did what you thought was best for you and him. I hate it, but I can understand where you were coming from. All is forgiven, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree. “And I promise you that Finley will be fine with you when you come over.”

“You think he still wants me to come over today?”

“Of course he does. He’s already asked if you were coming.”

“Good. That’s…god, I thought he might never speak to me again,” Christian says in a rush, his voice hitching with emotion.

“It’ll be fine,” I assure him. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”