Page 35 of Caught in Us
I have a son with Alicia.
We made a child.
My alcoholism and the mistakes I made in life led me to spending that summer in Kitty Hawk. Alicia was the first person to see me, truly, and not shy away from the ugly parts. We were both fighting addiction, but born from that struggle came something pure and good.
Our son.
A gift.
I’m overwhelmed.
My world is flipped on its axis. I move through the rest of the afternoon in a mental daze. On the outside I probably appear calm. Collected. But inside my brain is a mess, trying to process this life-altering news and coming up with more questions than answers.
I’m good with kids, but what if Matthew doesn’t like me? I’m a stranger, after all.
Are we going to tell him? Is he old enough to even understand?
Will he call me Dad?
God, I hope so.
I make three more trips to and from Alicia’s parents’. Each time I pull into the driveway I hope to get a glimpse of Matthew, but the estate is a ghost town. They must be inside. Or gone. I wish I could ask, but all my questions will have to wait for the morning.
After I’ve stored the last truckload of stuff in the garage, I hop in my truck to head home. I glance at the dash and realize I’ll be headed back this way in less than sixteen hours. Crap. I should probably prepare. Do I buy a gift? Plan an outing? I should do something. Right?
I want tomorrow to be special. I want to create a meaningful memory with my son.
I need to talk to someone. Cam would be a great sounding board, but he and Jill already have so much on their plate with the wedding and I don’t want to add to their stress. Plus, I’m almost positive Alicia hasn’t told Jill about me being Matthew’s father and she should be the one to break that news. Yeah, Cam’s out.
But who else do I call? So many of the people I would normally go to for support have ties to either me or Alicia.
There’s a tiny voice inside my head telling me to stop by one of my old drinking spots for a pint. There would be nameless strangers to listen to my woes. The alcohol would numb my worries. I tell that voice to fuck off. My brain feeds me lies. That’s part of addiction, but it doesn’t hold the power over me it once did.
At the next stop light, I pick up my cell and press Maverick’s name. It rings several times before connecting.
“No, my husband is not covering any shifts tonight,” his wife says without greeting.
I chuckle. “Hey, Vanessa, I’ve missed your voice.”
“Don’t try to butter me up. Mav promised me a date and our sitter will be over in an hour.”
“That’s not why I’m calling.”
“Oh. Sorry.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “What’s up?”
“I uh, need some advice. Kid advice. Is Maverick around?”
“He’s taking a shower. I can have him call you in thirty minutes?”
“Oh, yeah.” I’ve waited years, what’s a few more minutes. “Sure.”
“Unless there’s something I can help you with?”
Shoot. Might as well ask Vanessa; she probably has better advice anyway. Their son, Levi, will be three next month.
“If you were going to plan a casual, fun day out where would you take Levi?”
“Oh, well, depends on the weather, I guess. There’s a farm over in Ashland that has a petting zoo. Levi is obsessed with the goats. But I’d call first, because one day we ended up there the same time as a school field trip and it was kind of insane keeping track of him.”
