Page 8 of Caught in Us
When our plane landed there was a voice message from Jill waiting on my phone. She invited me to a luncheon they’re hosting tomorrow for all the out-of-town guests and the wedding party. I want to go. I can. It’s not as if my schedule is packed. In fact, it’s probably better I do attend rather than wait for her wedding day to introduce her to Matthew. Tomorrow will bring quite a shock, and while I could just call, after all these years it seems impersonal. There’s too much to catch up on. Too much time has passed. It’s strange, but with the distance I could pretend this part of my life—and the people I considered friends—never existed.
Maybe that’s why my father hid his other family in Spain all these years?
I wish I could ask.
I stop at his door, pausing only for a second before I knock softly and push it open.
Theresa, his nurse on duty, smiles warmly at my arrival. She closes her book and stands as I walk over to the hospital style bed.
“Hi, Daddy.” My voice breaks, cracking along with some of my nerves. I take in his appearance, wondering how it’s possible he looks more frail than when we video chat. It’s not as if this is a surprise. My brothers and I talk every week, but the reality of my father’s health hits differently seeing him in person. Despite all the therapies and treatments since his stroke, he hasn’t recovered and this man on the bed is a shell of the father who raised me.
“He’s having a good day,” Theresa says, her voice full of reassurance. “Slept really good too.”
“Good.” I force a smile that doesn’t feel right. Growing up, my father was larger than life. His presence was one of strength. Seeing him like this, his cheeks hollow from weight loss and body stiff from lack of movement, it’s as if he’s not really here, even though his body is. His eyes are clear but stare into nothing, not even acknowledging my presence.
“Would you like some time alone?”
I nod, unable to form words without breaking into tears. As she exits the room, I pull a chair close and take his hand in mine, the warmth of his skin calming my racing nerves. In my mind, I tell him everything. About today’s flight. How scared I am for this week. I tell him about Matthew, but it’s bittersweet. I always imagined my father would be the kind of grandpa to take his grandkids on trips and teach them how to play soccer like he did me and my brothers—but that reality isn’t possible. I mourn the life we should have had. I share my worries about Mom too.
I wish I could ask him so many things. “There’s so much I never said,” I whisper aloud. That’s the thing about regret, it weighs down your soul, heavy with the words you never said, the things you never did. It leaves questions unanswered. A frustrating, agitating clawing that never goes away.
That’s why I need to be here now. Life provides no guarantees and time is precious. I’m done wasting it. Done hiding behind fears. I need to come clean with my friends, introduce my son, and see Chase again. Even if it breaks my heart.
5
Chase
Cam and Jill’swedding is being held at a quaint repurposed farm, a good thirty minutes outside of Richmond. Because of availability and schedules, they decided to hold the rehearsal on a weekday, meeting for lunch at one of their favorite barbeque joints before caravanning to the venue.
Which is why on this unseasonably warm autumn Tuesday, I find myself sipping a soda and chatting with my niece while we wait for the rest of their guests to arrive. Kenslee and I are perched at one of the high tops in the back corner of the room. Yes, I picked this spot so I had a constant view of the doorway. I want to seeherbefore she sees me. I don’t know why it’s so important, but it is. I’m not even certain Alicia’s coming to the rehearsal lunch, but I know Jill invited her. I don’t know exactly how I’ll react to seeing her again, but my plan is to play it cool and let her set the pace.
Or at least keep up the appearance of cool. Inside, my stomach’s tied in knots and under the table, my knee won’t stop bouncing.
“Don’t you think that’s awesome?” Kenslee interrupts my spinning thoughts with her bright, bubbly tone.
“Hmm?” Fuck. I wasn’t paying attention. This kid can talk about video games for hours and while I’m all for gaming, the block-crap ones she plays hold zero interest for my brain.
“Uncle Chase! You weren’t paying attention again!”
“Sorry, Kenz. You lost me at the ultimate crafter glitch thingy. Now ask me about Grand Theft Auto and I’m your man.”
She rolls her eyes. “Momma won’t let me play that game. She says it’s too violent.”
“It is. Your mom’s a smart woman.” Even if she isn’t my favorite person in the world. I’m happy Cam and his ex have a good relationship now, but in the beginning she manipulated my brother and kept him from seeing his own daughter. That’s something I can’t totally forgive.
“If I sleep over”—Kenz leans forward, dropping her voice to a murmur—“We could play and no one would have to know.” She flashes me a grin.
Lord. This is my brother’s child. “I don’t know if I want to be accomplice to your rebellion.” I chuckle, reining in my grin. “Besides, someone will rat us out.”
“Then you need to play Roblox with me!”
“Maybe.” I laugh and my eyes dart to the door, movement catching my attention like it has a dozen other times in the past ten minutes. Only this time my heart lodges in my throat. Because it’s her.Alicia.
Fuck. I never thought I’d see her again, and now she’s here looking better than ever. She’s filled out, her curves more profound than before. Her hair is longer, the color a deep brunette. But her smile is just as I remember, even if it’s guarded. My chest aches with a familiar pang. I used to know her. Inside and out, better than anyone. But now we’re practically strangers and it stings. Nostalgia for the summer we spent together overcomes my thoughts.
I want her to look at me. I need to see if she feels it too. I wait for her to scan the room, but quickly lose patience. Fuck it.
Abandoning my niece, I slide from my chair, ready to stomp across the room and haul Alicia into my arms. All my plans to play it cool fly out the window. A primal need to touch her, hear her voice, and gain her smile fuels my confidence.
