Authors: A. L. Jackson
But Christian didn’t feel
proud
—he felt ashamed.
He’d seen her about three weeks before in line at the store, though she hadn’t seen him. He had gathered the few items he needed, deodorant, shampoo, and toothpaste, and hastily had made his way back up to the registers. He’d scanned for the shortest line when he saw the wavy locks of blond hair he knew so well. He’d felt an immediate pull, the need to go to her, but had frozen when she turned to the side, exposing the large protuberance in her abdomen.
Like a coward, he’d hidden himself, watching her with an almost morbid curiosity from behind a row of shelves. He felt sick, observing the woman he still loved, but had betrayed, strain to reach the items in the cart—diapers, blankets, and small things he didn’t recognize. She was preparing for her baby to be born.
It frightened him that she now seemed thinner than he remembered, her skin sallow and chalky, gaunt, as if the growing mass in her front had stolen all the life from the rest of her body.
Even then, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
But, like he already knew himself to be, he remained the coward and did nothing but watch as she paid for her things and walked out the door.
It was the only time he’d seen her since they’d fought at his apartment. She’d never returned to class, had never called or sought him out, had never changed her mind.
He had made no real effort of his own since that first day when he’d gone to her place, only calling once and hanging up when a man had answered her phone. He could have tried harder—should have tried harder—but he’d taken the easy way out. He’d convinced himself that he didn’t ache for her, pretended that his sleepless nights had nothing to do with his worry for her. He told himself she’d moved on, that she didn’t need him, that she’d found her own way. Even if she had, he knew it still didn’t absolve his responsibility for the child.
So as his guilt had grown, he’d done more and more to drown it out, spending long days in class and even longer nights with his head spinning from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed, then waking to unfamiliar women in unfamiliar beds.
No, today was not a
proud
day.
Christian grabbed his cap and trudged downstairs to join his parents in their waiting car.
~
The celebratory dinner was everything Christian had expected it to be, the sound of forks and knives clattering against china filtering into the stuffy atmosphere of the Club, the waiters in tuxedos and far too willing to accommodate. Christian’s father, Richard, lectured him that his schooling had only begun and that the next three years of law school were going to be the toughest of his life. Claire, Christian’s mother, sat withdrawn as she listened to her husband giving her son instruction he obviously didn’t need.
It was nothing Christian hadn’t heard before. Every conversation he’d ever had with his father had been the same. He’d hoped that for just one night his father would be satisfied, that they could relax and just talk, but it was always about the next step, the next achievement.
Thankfully, Claire interrupted and changed the subject with small talk of their travel plans for the summer. She seemed irritated by her husband this evening, her smile tight and no real light coming from her blue eyes. Normally, she remained mostly quiet during family conversations, sipping from a glass of wine and nodding agreement with whatever Richard said to their son. Tonight though, she seemed anxious, as if she would explode if Richard uttered one more word about Christian’s future. Christian watched his mom from across the table and wondered about her happiness. He wondered if in all the years he had thought her perfectly content in her huge house and endless social gatherings she was ever really happy at all, because when he really looked hard, he saw no true joy in her face.
Christian couldn’t even remember the last real conversation he’d had with his mother, so he smiled at the stories his mother told. Her face took on a new vibrancy as she talked of him as a child, and he relaxed into his chair, no longer guarded, until his mother asked a question he hadn’t been prepared to answer. “What happened with that girl you were dating? What was her name . . . Elizabeth?”
Christian felt himself tense and his shame return, but he found himself answering her because he needed to tell somebody. Looking at his plate, he muttered, “We broke up.”
“Oh?” his mother asked, as if she expected further explanation, one she would be shocked to hear, but even more shocking was he wanted to tell her.
He lifted his eyes to hers and spoke, even though it was choppy and reeked of confession. “She’s having a baby.”
Almost simultaneously, his parents dropped their utensils to the table, staring as they waited for him to clarify.
“She told me in the fall. I told her I didn’t want it . . . so she left. I haven’t talked to her since.” Christian tried to maintain eye contact with his mother as he said these things, but had to look away when he saw the disappointment race across her face.
Her voice shook, but was still the strongest he’d ever heard. “Christian,” she demanded, “How could you treat someone . . .”
Richard’s rant cut off Claire as Christian’s father spouted words about irresponsibility and money and tarnished reputations. Only Christian noticed when his mother stood and ran from the table.
~
The ride home from the restaurant was tense and silent. Christian’s mother had left the table right after his admission. For the twenty minutes she was away, Christian was scolded by his father. When she’d returned, it was obvious she’d been crying, her makeup smudged and her eyes red. After she had taken her seat, no one had spoken a word nor had they since.
The driver pulled up in front of Christian’s building, and Richard made no move, though his mother exited the car and hugged Christian in a way she hadn’t for many, many years. When she pulled away, her face was wet with tears again, and her hand trembled as she raised it to touch his cheek. “Make this right.” He hadn’t expected this encouragement, and it left him confused as he watched her take her place in the backseat of the Town Car. He stared at their taillights as they drove away and disappeared into the night.
Christian hung his head as he made his way to his apartment, knowing what his mom said was true. He could
make this right, but he also knew he would probably never be brave enough to do it.
Once upstairs, Christian changed and then walked to the building next to his own to join the people he could barely consider friends, as they celebrated their graduation the best way they knew how. The music was loud and the apartment cramped, the room almost alive with the movement of people who considered this one of the best days of their lives.
Christian had never felt worse.
With a platinum blonde on his lap, he sat on the couch, draining his sixth beer and wondering what the hell he was doing there. The crowd had become rowdy and obnoxious, and Christian wanted nothing more than to escape from it all. He just had no idea where he wanted to go.
He shut his eyes and pretended he didn’t hear the loud, drunken voice of Nathan, a guy he could hardly stand when he was sober, let alone after he’d consumed half his weight in alcohol. But he couldn’t ignore it when Nathan slapped him on the back, his booming voice slurred with laughter as he shouted, “I hear congratulations are in order for the proud papa.”
Christian felt all the blood drain from his face, leaving him lightheaded, barely able to force out, “What?”
Nathan cackled as if nothing had ever been more entertaining to him. “What? Didn’t you hear, man? You became a daddy this morning.”
Christian stood and pushed the giggling girl from his lap. He’d never hated himself more. How could he have done this? He loved Elizabeth, didn’t he? But people didn’t do things like this to people they loved.
He vomited just outside the door in the hallway—not from the alcohol he’d consumed, but from the disgust he found
within himself. He stumbled home and into bed, praying he would fall asleep and awake with all of his regret gone.
But sleep never came, and he lay staring at the ceiling, unable to will his mind to stop long enough to find rest. At four o’clock, he gave up and got out of bed, still wearing wrinkled jeans and a T-shirt that smelled like beer. Putting on a discarded Columbia sweatshirt from the floor, he walked. Obviously, he knew where he was going, though he wouldn’t allow himself to consciously think it.
He entered through the emergency room entrance because all the other doors had been locked for the night. When he arrived on the maternity floor, a nurse stopped him. Visiting hours didn’t start for another three hours, but when he explained he was a father and showed his ID, the woman allowed him through.
He gathered all his courage and pushed forward, preparing to admit to Elizabeth he was wrong. He would tell her that he was sorry, that he would take it all back if he could. He was prepared to beg for the forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve. But what he wasn’t prepared for was finding Matthew with his back to him, sitting in a chair and gently caressing Elizabeth’s face while she slept.
Christian froze when he realized he was too late; he’d done too much harm. He stood silently and watched the man who was only supposed to be her friend sit in the spot where he should have been. He watched Matthew adoring the girl who deserved every touch and embrace, the girl who deserved a man better than he knew himself to be. She deserved a man like Matthew who had stepped up and filled the place Christian should never have stepped away from.
He allowed the pain to well up in his chest, and he said a silent goodbye to the girl he would always love. He stepped back
and let the door close between them. As he escaped down the hall, he trained his attention on the floor, not allowing himself to look through the large glass window where he knew his child slept. He knew if he saw, he would never be able to walk away.
Elizabeth was taken care of and happy, and for once, Christian would do something that he wasn’t doing for himself.
After all, it was for the best.
Chapter One
May 2010
I stood in the middle of my office, taking in a deep breath as I looked out over San Diego Bay. What seemed like thousands of sailboats dotted the water, bobbing in the cool breeze. It was beautiful, calming, and so different from the urban chaos I’d lived in during my first two years as an attorney serving as a public defender in New York City.
I’d never been to San Diego, though I’d heard so much about it.
Elizabeth was from San Diego, growing up here. I’d spent countless hours listening to stories about her, her mother, and her two sisters. Every Saturday they’d take a trip to the beach no matter what the weather. They didn’t have a lot of money, and it was an outing that cost nothing more than the small amount of gas it took to get them there. Elizabeth would never say they had been poor, though clearly they had been. She would assert so many were far worse off than her family. She would say her
mother worked hard and she and her sisters never went without the things they needed.
I wondered about her often, even though it had been almost five years since I’d walked out of that hospital and carried on as if there weren’t a completely different life I should be living. I’d always expected to hear something, a subpoena for a child support hearing or a request that would be altogether unbearable—one asking that I relinquish my rights as father because somebody else wanted that title—but none had ever come. I’d ensured I would always be easy to find, it taking nothing more than entering my name in a search engine, and Elizabeth could pick up the phone and call me directly. But she never did.
I was haunted by the choices I’d made, plagued by insomnia and anxiety with most nights spent wide-awake in regret. I knew nothing of my own child. Countless times, I’d typed Elizabeth Ayers into my computer, but found I could never complete the search. As much as I wanted to know, I didn’t deserve to know. What gave me the right to delve into their personal lives, to know where they lived, if Elizabeth had married, my child’s name? No, I had no right, but that never kept my thoughts far from them.
I sighed heavily when the buzz from my phone pulled me from my thoughts. I dug into my pocket, sliding my finger across the faceplate to accept the call.
“This is Christian.”
“Christian, how are things coming over there?” Without greeting, which was no surprise, my father got straight down to business.
I proceeded to fill him in on my perception of the building, the office manager, and my assumption that everything was coming along as planned, even though I’d only arrived the
day before. I’d gone directly to my condo, exhausted from the three-day drive.
I’d flown out the month before to meet with my realtor and purchased a new high-rise condo just a five-minute drive from the new office. I’d always known one day I would work for my father’s firm, I just had no idea my father would open a new branch on the other side of the country and ask me to head it. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
As the years had progressed, my respect for my father had dissipated and my resentment had grown, leaving us little more than business partners. The night of my graduation dinner had been the last of the family I had known. It was the night my mom had packed a suitcase and my father had watched the best thing in his life walk out the door and had done nothing about it. I hated him for it because it only made me see myself.
When I had glimpsed the discontent in my mother’s eyes that night, I’d had no idea how deep it went.
It had been a new beginning for us as mother and son. She had come to me, weeks later, distraught and in tears, confessing the many ways she believed she had failed me. She told me that as a young woman, she had been blinded by wealth and society, and she had pushed me to do great things because she loved me and wanted the best for me, but had somehow forgotten to teach me to be compassionate and kind along the way. She had told me she’d grown to care nothing about those things, and when I’d sat there and told her about Elizabeth, it had broken her heart. She felt that she’d somehow failed me. I had disagreed. My failure was all my own.