Authors: Hannah Foster
Flipping to the back of the book, he looked for the last entries; it was silly really but he felt that if he didn't read the whole thing, if he only looked for the parts that would tell him what he needed to know that it would somehow be less of an invasion of her privacy.
.
February 7, 2001
I can't get enough sleep. E joked that I was suffering from African Sleeping Sickness because every time he comes home I'm passed out.
Karen joked that I must be pregnant - what a nightmare that would be. Kids aren't part of the plan - we have it all mapped out - fellowships, Doctors Without Borders overseas and then staff positions in New York or Chicago.
I'm going to up my vitamins and if that doesn't work,
I'll get E to give me a B12 shot.
February 18, 2001
I'm late. Very late. And as much as I'm trying to convince myself that it's the stress I'm pretty sure it isn't. We are always
careful - always. This is some kind of sick joke that my body is playing on me. I can't quite bring myself to take a test -not yet anyways. What if it's positive?
What does that mean for me? For E? For us?
February 21, 2001
I'm pregnant. I want to say it's a nightmare come to life but I can't. I can't say that because somehow the minute I discovered I am carrying a baby I fell in love with it. My baby. Our baby.
But how can the universe be so cruel? How can it give me something with one hand and take something away with the other? E is going to lose his mind - this will ruin everything.
.
Closing the book, Eric took several deep breaths. He was incredulous that she would have thought that of him. He had always been loving and honest with her and while a baby was not what either of them had planned
for, he was sure that he would have been supportive. It was an unexpected pain to discover that the person you loved with everything did not have faith in you.
He flipped over several entries that had nothing to do with her pregnancy, though he did pause on the one where she described their night
out at a Blackhawks game. A smile crept across his face as he was reminded at how free and brazen they could be. It was the next entry that turned the light bulb on over his head.
.
March 25, 2001
Rachel is pregnant. E told me as we were lying in bed - just as I was building up to tell him about the baby - and he was horrified by it all. He said it was a waste because R can't do her fellowship now. He said
oops babies can derail a person's life and it would feel like a nightmare if he were in Greg's place.
I can't hide from this much longer -physically or emotionally. Now what?
.
"Now you stay," he said out loud to the book. "Now you stay and tell me you're pregnant. Now you let me watch your belly grow. Now you let be in the delivery room and see our son come into the world.
Now you don't run."
Flipping through the rest of the book he realized it was the last entry. There would be no insight into her thought process. Closing the book he tossed it across the room in frustration.
Getting to his feet, he started to pace around the room,
nervous energy coursing through him. Could she really have based decisions about their life - about Jack's life - on one silly conversation they had after sex? Was this entire chain of events set in to motion because of something he
said? Had she really had such little faith in him?
His anger built at the thought that what had been an inconsequential, throwaway comment - to him - had cost him the woman he loved and his child. How was he to have known she was pregnant when they had that
conversation? He had only a vague recollection of the conversation and remembering how it felt to hold Jack the first time, he couldn't imagine referring to him as a nightmare. Jack was precious and Eric loved him with a
ferocity he did not know existed.
As he continued pace and thoughts continued like machine-gun fire in his head, a different question popped up. What if it wasn't a lack of faith in him but total faith in him?
She had been the only girlfriend in whom he had confided about the pain of his life growing up - she had been such a soft place to fall for him that he was able to finally tell someone about what it was like to grow
up feeling unloved, to always be falling short of expectations. Over the years he had shared so much of his childhood with her and talked openly about all the reasons why he didn't want - couldn't have - children. And then when their friends announced their surprising news he reacted as expected - that it was a
terrible thing to become a father if you weren't ready for it or didn't want it. She had believed him to be who he said he was. Nathalie had faith in him, faith that he would hate the idea of being a father, faith that he would say
his dreams - their dreams - were dead. He had not given her a single reason to trust that he would react in any way other than how he had said he would.
Blowing out his cheeks, he sank on to the edge of the bed
and cradled his head in his hands. If he were being painfully honest with himself - and if ever there was a time for unadulterated honesty it was now - he very likely would have reacted exactly as she feared. Eight years had brought a lot of change to his life and if the man he was today had been the
one to be told they were having a baby, he had no doubt that his reaction would have been one of love and excitement. But back then he was incredibly rigid in his beliefs and opinions. There had been little room for flexibility for fear
that it would take him away from achieving his goals. Those goals had been his ticket out of his difficult childhood, they had given him entrance into a new world and a new life where he was accepted and appreciated for who he was. He
had clung to them like a life raft.
Nathalie would have known that, he realized. She often knew him better than he knew himself and she would have understood what the news would have done to him. And so she did what she felt was her only option - she
left. He wasn't excusing her decision - he still had a right to know, but for the first time since he found her three line note he understood. At least a little.
The way forward was crystal clear to him. He put the diary
and the photo albums back in the box before returning it to its spot in the closet. Heading out of the bedroom, he grabbed his keys from the hall table and darted out of his apartment.
The walk to Sarah's apartment was only two short blocks.
Sarah had told him more than once that she would have preferred if he didn't live as close as he did but it was a deal breaker for Eric.
It was hard enough to pretend he wasn't Jack's father, he
wasn't willing to put even more distance between them by living on the other side of town.
Sarah was surprised to find him on her step as she opened the door. "Eric?"
"Is Jack here?"
She shook her head. "He's over at Frankie's playing." The determined look on his face gave her pause. "What's going on?"
"I'm done keeping secrets" he announced. "It's time to tell Nathalie and Jack the truth. And I mean today."
Visibly stiffening, Sarah tightened her grip on the door handle. "You agreed-"
"I've changed my mind," Eric interrupted, unapologetically. "This can't wait. Jack deserves to know the truth and
Nathalie has a right to know that her - our - child is right here and that his greatest wish for his birthday is for his parents to be with him."
She shook her head. "It's....Drew said..."
"Drew was trying to help you out," he stated
flatly. "I have waited long enough and I'm not waiting any longer. My son is going to know who his father is. Today."
She narrowed her eyes and fixed him with a steely glare.
"I decide what is right for Jack," she reminded him tightly.
Eric shook his head. "Sarah - you may be his legal guardian but I am his father. I am on his birth certificate and, while I never pressed it," he paused "you know as well as I do a DNA test would be
all it would take for a court to give me custody." His face softened slightly at the look of anguish on her face. "Look, I appreciate everything you have done Sarah - you have been amazing with him."
"Don't!" she bit out. "Don't thank me like I was doing you a favor!" She paused to quickly swipe the tears from her eyes before they could fall. "I love that child. I have loved that child
since the moment I watched him come into this world. Everything I have done has been for him and Nat."
He nodded silently, pained at the knowledge of all he had missed and all she thought she was losing. "I do understand that, Sarah.
That Jack is a happy kid is very much down to you." He owed her that much. "But he has parents and it's time for him to know them. And it's time for Nathalie to know that Jack is here."
"Eric....you....you don't know how she might react to
the news and what it might do to her before her surgery."
"You don't know how she might react to the news either," he pointed out.
"I do!" she insisted emphatically. "I tried
to bring Jack up the other day and she lost it, Eric. She couldn't handle it!"
They stared at each other for several beats. They had never been close but over the years they had built a mutual respected for each other.
"I know you want to think that this is me being selfish." She took a breath to try to regain her composure. "And maybe some of it is. But," she emphasized, "I love my sister. You
know that."
Eric shook his head in acknowledgement. He had once believed there were no closer siblings than Nathalie and Sarah Grant. "I know you do, Sarah. But there are too many secrets surrounding us and it has to stop. If
Nathalie had trusted me all those years ago-"
"She trusted you would hate her" she interjected. "She was positive that you would resent her and the baby. That's what she trusted."
Like a shot to his chest, her words had the desired effect.
Inhaling sharply, he jammed his hands in his pockets as he reflected back on his earlier thoughts as he read Nathalie's journal.
"And I would really like to believe she was
wrong." He said emotionally. "But even if she wasn't that doesn't make everything that has happened since okay. This has to stop," he told her emphatically. "I am not willing to be Jack's favorite buddy any longer - the guy that takes him to baseball games to make up for the fact he doesn't
have a father. I am his father Sarah and I love him. It's time for him to know that."
"What do you think this will do to him, Eric?" she queried. "To know that all of us - Drew included - kept this secret from
him?"
"I agreed to this charade because I didn't have faith in my ability to be a father," he admitted gruffly. "That hasn't been the case for years. You and I both know Jack and Nat deserve the truth, Sarah.
Who are we to keep it from them?"
"Sarah," Eric whispered as he reached out to grab her hand. Sarah fought her instinct to recoil at the unfamiliar touch.
"You know Nathalie will forgive you. And you know this is right for our boy. He needs to know."
"Alright," she acquiesced softly. She was sure the sound of her heart breaking was drowning out her words. "We can tell her
after -"
"No." he said softly as he squeezed her hand. "No more lies. We tell her today." Sarah saw the resolution in Eric's eyes and knew she didn't have the energy - or the right - to fight him any
longer. She nodded as she pulled her hand back from his and crossed her arms.
"Today."
#
Staring at the MRI of Nathalie's tumor and plotting out his surgical strategy, Andrew jumped as he heard his name called. Looking up from
the light board he was surprised to find Jack standing in his doorway with Linda, his friend's mother.
"Jack?" he asked, getting to his feet. "Are you okay little man?"
"Yeah," he answered, nodding. Dropping Linda's hand he ran to Andrew and hugged him.
"I am so sorry Andrew," Linda apologized. "He and Frankie were playing and then he came to see me and told me it was very
important that I bring him here to see you. I tried to call Sarah but didn't get an answer."
"No need to apologize Linda," he replied. "I'm really grateful for you bringing him here. I'll make sure Sarah
knows."
"Okay, thanks. Bye Jack."
"Bye" he said, holding Andrew's hand.
Linda pulled the door closed as she left and Andrew led Jack
to his couch, sitting down beside him. "Are you okay Jack?"
He bit down on his lip and nodded. "I just....I wanted to see you."
"You did? What's going on?"
Looking up at Andrew with his big green eyes, he answered
nervously, "I...I need your help."
"With what, bud?"
"I want to write a letter to my mom" he told him. "For my birthday. I want...I want to tell her that I miss her and ask her
to come home."
Swallowing down a sigh Andrew put his arm around him and tugged him to his side. "Oh little man."
"Will you help me?" he asked. "I can't ask
Aunt Sarah or Eric but you always said you would help me."
Tilting his head to the side, Andrew gave him a curious look. "I will always help you - you know I will do anything for you. But
why don't you think you can ask Aunt Sarah or Eric?"
The young boy paused for a moment before answering.
"Jack?" Andrew prodded.
"Aunt Sarah has been kind of sad lately and the last
time I mentioned my mom to Eric he got a really freaky look on his face. I think maybe he doesn't like my mom."
Realizing that nothing escaped the young boy's notice, all he could do was exhale slowly. "Jack, do you know what complicated
means?"