Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I began walking in his direction and nearly stumbled. Not because the resemblance to me was so strong—although it was there, in the height, in the coloring, in the way his hands unconsciously clenched and unclenched at his sides—but because I knew in my gut I was about to meet my son.
My insides were churning, and I felt tension mounting throughout my shoulders, neck, and back. I swallowed hard as I approached, prepared to extend my hand. Instead, Mason threw his arms around me.
“It’s true,” he said, his voice catching. “I wasn’t sure if it would be, but it is. You are my dad.”
I was so stunned by his embrace, it took me a moment to recover. Awkwardly, I put my hands lightly on his back. Patted it a few times. I didn’t know what to say.
Mason let go of me and stood back, laughing sheepishly. “Sorry.” He pushed his hair off his face in a gesture I recognized as one I’d made a thousand times in my youth. “I get a little emotional sometimes.”
“But it’s one of his best qualities.” The woman at the table rose to her feet and held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Lori Campion, Mason’s fiancée.”
I shook her hand. “I’m Zach Barrett.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” She had a pretty smile. “Please sit down.”
I took the seat across from Mason, who lowered himself into his chair and stared at me with awe. “I can’t believe I’m really meeting you. I looked for a photo of you online, so I’d recognize you, but couldn’t find one. You don’t have social media or anything.”
“No.” I loosened my tie a little. “I’ve never had any of that.” And Kimberly, my ex-wife, had wiped her social media profiles clean of our relationship, so it didn’t surprise me that he hadn’t been able to find any pictures.
“I thought maybe my mom would have kept one,” Mason said, “but I searched everywhere in her house without any luck.”
“I’m not sure we took any pictures. We didn’t know each other very long.” And we were too busy having unprotected sex.
The server appeared and asked me if I’d like a drink, and I looked up at him with extreme gratitude. “Whiskey. On the rocks, please.”
“Sure. We’ve got a couple options from Michigan distilleries. Journeyman—”
“Sounds good.”
He laughed. “Okay. Coming right up.”
“So how did it happen?” Mason asked earnestly.
“Sorry?” I tugged at my collar.
“Like, how did you meet my mom? What happened with you guys? Why didn’t she ever want me to know about you?”
“Honey.” Lori put a hand over Mason’s. “Maybe let him get his drink first.”
“Okay.” Mason closed his eyes and took a breath. When he opened them, I realized they were blue, and I saw the resemblance to Andi. He had the shape of her face, her high forehead. “I’m sorry, Zach. I promised myself I wouldn’t overwhelm you with questions about the past. I just . . . have a lot of them, I guess. And you’re a connection to my mom, a part of her life she never shared with me. I just want to understand her better—understand the decision she made to keep you from me. And it never seemed right to ask you this stuff over the phone, or by email.”
I needed a breath too. “I get it. And I’ll answer your questions as well as I can, but I’m not sure anything I have to say will give you what you’re looking for.”
“Mostly, I’m looking for honesty.”
“I can do that.”
He smiled. “Thanks. I’d like to gain perspective on my past, as I take steps toward my future.” He glanced at Lori. “We’re looking forward to having our own family, but I feel like it’s important that I know where I came from too. It never felt right that I couldn’t say who my real dad was or why I didn’t know him.”
“It wasn’t right,” I said, glad as fuck when the server returned with my whiskey. I barely even let him put the glass on the table before I picked it up and took a few swallows.
“Let’s put in our orders now,” suggested Lori.
I quickly scanned the menu and ordered the first thing that caught my eye. As soon as the server retreated, I picked up my whiskey again. We made small talk for a couple more minutes before Mason leaned his elbows on the table and met my eyes. “So is it okay to ask now?”
After one more generous swallow, I set the glass down. “I should probably start by saying that even though I had no idea you were, uh, conceived or born, I’m really sorry that you grew up without a father. If I had known, things would have been different.”
“Would you have married her?”
“If that’s what she wanted.” For a second I wondered about that . . . what had Andi wanted? When she first discovered she was pregnant, did she try to find me? Or was she so mad about the way I’d left, she kept the baby a secret as a way to punish me?