Page 24 of All of Him
“You don’t want to even go visit, do you?”
“I have to,” he said sternly, as if he was trying to convince himself that it’d be okay.
“If you need anything, let me know, okay?”
Noah nodded and stood to go. Pausing at the entrance to my cube, he turned his head for a split second and smiled, his gaze aimed at me.
“Thanks, Amanda.”
14
Noah
MORGAN’S CALL HAD BEENthe worst thing to happen to me since the accident. I slept for maybe two hours and seriously considered taking the day off. Unfortunately, I hadn’t earned any paid time off, and I couldn’t afford an unpaid day.
Barely able to contain myself after I’d gotten off the phone, I’d told Tony that I wasn’t feeling well and asked if he could be done for the day. He agreed, probably because he saw the emotion about to burst out of me.
I didn’t even really know what emotion tohave. I ran for two hours, almost ten loops around the property. I only stopped when it got so dark that I tripped and cut my knee open. I went directly to the liquor cabinet after that and took three rapid-fire shots of vodka. I’d made better decisions in my life, but that had been a pain I couldn’t numb with Xanax.
I took a nap in my truck at lunch, waking up to a text right before my alarm. It was from Morgan, my ex. After our conversation, I wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. But I no longer had a choice in the matter.
I looked down at the picture she’d sent me. It was a small baby boy, swaddled in a yellow blanket with a baby-blue sign in the background that readJackson Daniel Murphy.
My nephew.
Garrett’s son.
Morgan had cheated on me with Garrett the week of the accident. She’d sworn it was just one time, but it only took one time to make a baby. Despite my lack of deep feelings for her, I was beyond angry. The anger was mostly toward Garrett for doing that to me and not staying around to face the consequences. Since the accident, I’d idolized Garrett’s memory, forgetting every bad thing he’d ever done. I was aware that people tended to do that with the dead, but it was a coping mechanism that I’d never thought I’d fall victim to. Morgan’s call had re-humanized him, reminding me that he hadn’t been perfect—that none of us were. The mess he’d left behind was more complicated than I’d known, and I was suddenly expected to tend to it in ways I hadn’t planned. I wasn’t even confident in my ability to handle it like an adult.
Jackson was five months old, but Morgan had claimed that she didn’t know how to tell me. Instead, she’d put it off and called me only when someone accidentally posted it on social media. Little did she know, I didn’t use those sites anymore, but I was subconsciously glad that I’d found out.
Even though Morgan had cheated, then stayed with me long after finding out she was pregnant, she’d given birth to my nephew—a boy who had no father. I had to be in his life, though I wasn’t sure how I would do that. The only way to start was to go there as soon as I could. Garrett would have done the same thing.
“Hey, kid,” Tony said, shaking me awake.
I’d been helping him paint the shutters and wanted to sit down for a minute. I’d leaned against the railing on the porch, then woken up to the sun setting.
“You okay?” Tony asked. He didn’t seem mad, just concerned, his forehead crinkled with paternal instinct.
Even though I’d barely seen that from my own father, growing up, it was easy to detect. It was the same look he gave Amanda whenever she tried to use a large power tool.
“Yeah, sorry,” I answered, clearing my throat. “I had a rough night of sleep.”
“You know,” Tony said, lowering himself onto the step next to me, “I can’t imagine going through what you did with your parents. I’m really sorry.”
“That’s the least of my problems,” I huffed, confusing Tony. “But, yeah, that sucked.”
Tony sighed and shook his head.
“I know,” I continued, almost delirious with fatigue. “I’m stubborn. And your daughter isverygood at pushing my buttons.”
Tony laughed out loud and slapped me on the back, jarring me awake some more.
“She’s a firecracker, that one,” he responded. “Good soul though. She’d make a good friend if you let her.”
“I don’t know if I want a friend,” I admitted, unable to look at him. The words had slipped out, my lack of sleep affecting my verbal filter. “I’m not good at maintaining friendships, and I have a lot of shit on my plate.”
“Oh, Amanda’s low maintenance,” he said, as if he was blowing off my concern. “She might ask too many questions, but her heart is in the right place. If you’re loyal, she’ll forgive you for nearly anything. You should consider it.”
