Page 2 of Off Limits Daddies
Every night, I lie awake wondering if I'm making a catastrophic mistake. I'm returning to the town I fled. To the father who doesn't know he has grandsons. To the man who fathered them without ever knowing I was pregnant.
Jack Lewis. My father's best friend. The man I called Uncle Jack throughout my childhood. The man who looked at me differently that Fourth of July night nine years ago. I was eighteen. He was thirty-six. Everything between us combusted in my father's study while fireworks exploded outside.
I haven't let myself think his name in years. Now it's all I can think about. Is he still there? Will I see him? What will I say if I do?
And worse: What will I do when my sons meet their father and don't know it?
"Mom, why do we have to stay with Aunt Sarah?" Corey asks on our last night in the apartment, his small face creased with worry.
I kneel in front of him. I smooth his dark hair back. He has Jack's hair — thick, dark, always slightly unruly. "Just for a little while, baby. Mommy needs to find us a new place to live."
"But why are we moving?" Rory demands. He's the bold one, the twin who questions everything. He has Jack's stubborn chin. "I like it here."
"We're going back to where I grew up," I tell them, keeping my voice steady. "You'll get to meet your grandparents."
"We have grandparents?" Rory's eyes widen. "You never told us that."
Guilt twists through me. "I know, sweetheart. It's complicated. But yes, you have a grandma and grandpa who are going to love meeting you."
What I don't say: Your grandfather is dying, and he doesn't know you exist. Your father doesn't know you exist either, and I'm terrified of what will happen when he finds out.
The drive to Sarah's house the next morning feels like a funeral procession. The twins chatter in the backseat, excited about their "vacation" with Aunt Sarah, while I grip the steering wheel and try not to think about what comes next.
Sarah meets us at the door, her expression sympathetic. She's the only person who knows the whole truth. She knows about Jack, why I left, and who the twins' father is.
"You sure about this?" she asks quietly while the kids run inside.
"No," I admit. "But I have to try. My dad is dying, Sarah. If I don't do this now, I'll regret it forever."
She pulls me into a hug. "Call me every day. And if it gets too hard, I'm here. Always."
We spend the afternoon together, the kids playing while Sarah and I pretend everything is normal. But as evening approaches and it's time for me to leave, the reality sets in.
Saying goodbye to Rory and Corey is harder than I expected. They cling to me, suddenly uncertain. Corey's eyes are already red-rimmed, and even Rory looks shaken.
"You'll come back for us soon?" Corey whispers, his hazel eyes swimming with tears. "You promise?"
"So soon," I promise, kissing the top of his head.
"With our own rooms?" Rory asks hopefully.
"We'll see," I say, my throat tight. "I'll do my best."
I hug them both one more time, holding on longer than I should, memorizing the weight of them in my arms. They're my whole world, these two boys.
"I love you both so much," I whisper. "Be good for Aunt Sarah."
"We will," they chorus, though Corey's voice wavers.
"Mom?" Rory says as I start to pull away. "Are you scared?"
I freeze. He's always been perceptive, always able to read me better than I'd like.
"A little," I admit. "But it's going to be okay. I promise."
Another lie. I have no idea if it's going to be okay.
Sarah walks me to my car. "They'll be fine," she says. "Don't worry about them."
