Page 75 of The Blessing

chapter 29

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I walk through the door of my apartment in a daze. My mind is still reeling from what I’ve just witnessed. I’m honestly surprised that I made it home without getting into an accident. The whole way home my thoughts were entirely centered around my father and that woman. I just can’t stomach the way he was looking at her like she was his entire world. I cringe at the fucking thought.

“Dada!”

I shake the thoughts from my head and focus on the present—knowing it’s something which won’t upset me. Ronnie’s sitting on the floor next to my son, who is on his feet, clapping his hands and waving at me. He takes one step toward me, and then another before promptly falling to the floor on his ass. I’m surprised to see that the fall doesn’t make him cry, instead, he gives me a huge grin and waves his little hand again in my direction.

“Dada!” he exclaims before crawling across the carpet as quickly as he can to reach me. “Dada! Dada! Dada!” he continues to squeal as he moves his little body across the floor.

I drop to the floor and wait for him to reach me. My problems always feel as though they evaporate the exact fucking second I see my son. He’s a breath of fresh air. It’s moments like these when I realize just how much I fucking need him. I hold my arms out and scoop him up as soon as he’s within arm’s length. I kiss the fuzzy hair atop his head and take a deep, comforting breath—inhaling the scent of his baby powder and lotion.

“He’s been dying for you to get home,” Ronnie informs me with an adorable smile. She studies me for a moment, and then her beautiful smile falters. I must still look pale as a fucking ghost. “Are you all right, baby?”

I place my cheek on top of Grey’s head and close my eyes, absorbing the gentle comfort he provides. “I’m fine. It was nothing.”

She gives me a look which says, Babe, you’re a terrible fucking liar. “What was nothing?”

I roll my eyes and continue, “I saw my dad when I was picking up our dinner.”

She gives me a quizzical look as she asks, “And that’s a bad thing?”

How the hell do I tell her? I feel like if I say this aloud—it’s suddenly real. Has my dad been screwing around on my mother? While I’ve never been too fond of my mom, I still wouldn’t want her to be hurt in this way. She’d be heartbroken if she found out. Fuck, I’m fucking hurt enough for all of us. I’ve always looked up to my father, he’s always been a man to admire—but now—well, I’m just not sure anymore. This shakes me to the fucking core. I saw the way he was looking at that woman. It’s obvious there’s more than friendship between the two of them.

“He was there with a woman,” I finally answer. “Well, he met up with a woman there. It was the lady who approached us at the supermarket. The one you introduced yourself to.”

Ronnie thinks for a moment, before her features brighten with recognition. “The beautiful one... Yeah, I remember her.” She stops to study me. “Trevor, you don’t want to jump to conclusions too quickly. It might not be what you think it is.”

I shake my head—not wanting to contemplate what this could mean any further. I head to the kitchen with the to-go bag in hand, just wanting to eat and forget about all the shit in my life. Ronnie follows behind me, carrying Grey and places him in his high chair before grabbing some plates and napkins. I place our sandwiches on the table before grabbing Grey out of his high chair and sitting down with him in my lap. I want him near me. Ronnie joins us at the table after she gets us something to drink; we eat in an uncomfortable silence. She looks like she wants to say something but doesn’t, knowing I need time to stew on this. She gives me worried glances as she eats. I try to ignore them, until they finally break me.

“I just never thought my dad was capable of doing anything wrong,” I solemnly say, feeling defeated. “I’m afraid that when I find out the truth, I won’t be able to look at him the same way. I’ve always looked up to him, Ronnie.”

“Trevor, you’re not even sure whether or not he’s done anything wrong yet. Just wait until you can talk to him face to face, and then you can be angry if you need to be.” I frown, but I know she’s right. She gives me a sad smile before continuing, “She could just be your father’s friend, a business partner, or maybe she’s just an acquaintance. Just because you saw your father talking to another woman doesn’t mean he’s having an affair. Besides, he’ll be divorced soon anyway. Not that it’s an excuse for his behavior—but if he is messing around, it might give you solace to know your mom won’t have to put up with it for very much longer.”

I give her a half-assed smile for her efforts. She’s right. The woman could just be a friend or business partner, but something about the way they interacted makes me think that’s not true. I have a bad feeling about this. “You should’ve seen them together, babe. They seemed so familiar with each other. I saw the way he fucking smiled at her. Ronnie, he’s never smiled at my mom like that. Not once.” I push my food aside, no longer hungry. “The thought of him carrying on an affair while he was married to her makes me sick. Sure, Mom wasn’t the most loving woman in the world, but she still didn’t deserve this.”

Ronnie gives me a little smile. I can tell she feels just as sad as I do. She always says she hates seeing me upset, and in moments like these, I know that’s true. I smile back, wanting to stay strong for her, but I’m fucking wrecked on the inside. How could my dad do this to us? Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but something in my gut tells me there’s something between him and that woman. The conversation I had with my dad a few months ago trickles into my mind, haunting me like a bad fucking dream.

“You’ve always been the strong one in the family… you always made me feel like everything was going to be all right. I grew up admiring you for that.”

“Well, don’t admire people too much, Trevor. They can disappoint you sometimes.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow. I need answers,” I grimly state.

She gives me a small nod before returning to her sandwich. I wonder if his words back then were his way of telling me he’s a shit person. Perhaps he wanted me to know he had his own faults—just like everyone else. Maybe his faults were obvious, but I’d been too fucking blind with admiration to see them. What if he wasn’t the man I thought he was? How could I live with that truth? His words run on repeat in my head, taunting me with the hidden meaning I must’ve missed.

“Don’t admire people too much, Trevor. They can disappoint you sometimes.”

The ringing of the phone agitates me to no fucking end. It’s such a daunting sound, especially when you want to avoid the truth that’s sure to be revealed once the line is answered. It took me all morning to get the courage to call my dad. I thought my anger would surely compel me to call sooner, but my anger went hand and hand with the fear of finding out the truth. What if my father isn’t the man I thought he was? He was the only person I could rely on growing up. He was the one person I thought was fucking trustworthy. I don’t feel as though I’m jumping to conclusions because deep down I feel like something is definitely not right. I keep going back to the way he looked at her—like a flame he had been longing to see—what is that shit? Although my relationship with my mom has never been loving—I wouldn’t wish this for her.

Before the call goes to voicemail again, he picks up. It’s weird hearing his voice now that I have so many negative thoughts swirling around in my head. My stomach turns, and it takes me a moment to find my words. As odd as it sounds, I feel sort of betrayed.

“Trevor?”

“Hey, Dad.” My voice sounds so foreign to me. What the fuck can I say? “Hey, Dad. I saw you with some woman and I was wondering what the fuck that was about?”

“Is something wrong, son?”