Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Probably not. But you go have fun. You earned it after all you did today.”
I didn’t expect it, but the little guy wrapped his arms around my waist. “Thanks for helping us today.”
I bent down so I could look him in the eye. “It was my pleasure. And, Owen, you’re doing a great job taking care of Mom and the house.”
“Thanks.”
After Beth came back in from talking to Owen’s friend’s mom, she grabbed two beers out of the refrigerator and handed me one.
She tilted her head toward the living room. “Come on. Let’s go sit.”
Together we sat on the couch. “Do you remember when Dad caught us fooling around in the living room on our old blue couch?”
To this day, I felt bad about that. “Of course. He took off his work boot and chucked it at me when I ran for the door. Thing had a steel toe. Hurt like a bitch. But I deserved it.” I sucked down half of my beer.
“You know, that week we had together means a lot to me.”
Beth had been a virgin when I ruined our friendship by taking things where I led them.
“It meant a lot to me, too. And I’m sorry about the way I ended things. I was…a prick.”
She smiled. “You weren’t really. We’d agreed that it was just fooling around, nothing more. But I didn’t know how to separate sex from emotions back then.”
That was one thing I had always been good at. Sex was just sex. The only emotions I associated with sex were excitement and eagerness. Until out of nowhere, a certain little sassy thing showed up one night behind my bar.
“We were young. You grew up a lot faster than I did.”
“I grew up too fast. Married at twenty-two, a baby at twenty-three. Both of those led to divorce at twenty-eight. Tom wasn’t a bad guy. It was just that neither of us had lived much before we got together at twenty. We hadn’t experienced much.”
“You got a great kid out of it, at least. Owen’s great.”
“You were great with him. He really took to you. Do you want kids someday?”
I traced my finger along the top of the beer bottle. “I didn’t think I did. But…it’s complicated.”
She smiled. “That’s what you said when I asked you if you were seeing anyone.”
I felt like I should open up a little bit. “She’s…having a kid. It’s just not mine. Happened before we met.”
“Oh. Wow. Well…that definitely makes it complicated. But I hope you don’t let that stop you from being with her. Because that wouldn’t bode well for the outlook of my future either—being a single mom of a six-year-old and all.”
I nodded. “It’s complicated.”
“So you’ve said…”
I started to think out loud. “I just don’t know if I can be a dad to someone else’s kid. Especially not the guy whose kid she’s having.”
“I watched you today with Owen. Trust me, you’re a natural. And if you’re worried about DNA, don’t be. Was my father like a dad to you?”
“Yeah. He was.”
“You didn’t share blood.”
“I guess.”
“Was your biological father like a dad to you?”
My face answered without the necessity of words. Beth had been there for the years of shit with my sperm donor.
“See. And you did share blood. A father has nothing to do with DNA.”
Deep down, I knew she was right. But she didn’t understand my fucked-up situation.
“It’s...” I went to say complicated, and then realized I sounded like a broken record. “Hard. It’s hard.”
“Everything happens for a reason, Heath. You’re here to remember my dad. I don’t think you’re supposed to use this time to mourn him. I think my dad’s death is meant to be a reminder to you that you can be a parent without the biology.”
I took a minute and really gave it some thought. Maybe she was right. As strange as it sounds, I think her dad would want his death to teach me something. That was just the kind of man he was. A good one. A real father figure.
Looking up, I found Beth watching me. I squinted. “When did you become such a crack psychologist?”
“You want the truth?”
“Of course.”
“Today when you got here, my white shirt was soaked, and I didn’t even have a bra on. My nipples were greeting you, and you didn’t even notice. Earlier, when you had no shirt on, I practically salivated at the sight of your six-pack. It’s been a while. You looked like you were ready to run for the hills when you caught me staring. So I figured out pretty quickly that whatever was complicated—meant complicated love. And even though a part of me is sort of jealous, I’ve never wanted anything but happiness for you. Neither did my dad. So it feels right that maybe he—and I—can help you see things clearly.”