Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JULIETTE
I didn’t know a conversation could drain someone so much. My heart pounds like I’ve been running a marathon, struggling to answer my son’s never-ending questions.
“I just don’t get it,” PJ calls from the bathroom.
“Brush your teeth,” I reply. “We can talk after.”
Sitting on his bed, I bury my head in my hands. Today was… a lot. Emotions, drama, questions—everything all at once. Eva would have had a field day at the ice cream shop today. PJ was losing his mind, so worried about Dean being his father. Even knowing Jamie was his grandfather couldn’t calm him. I don’t understand how one choice, one decision, led to so much upheaval. I’ll always wonder if I made the right call that night, but at least the truth is out, and PJ knows. A small silver lining.
“Are you okay, Mom?” PJ’s little voice reaches me.
I look up, doing my best to put on a brave face. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. Do you want to talk about it?”
He sighs, climbing into bed. I help him shift under the covers before leaning across him.
“I’m confused.”
“Okay, what are you confused about?”
“Where did Dean come from?”
Not what I expected, but okay.
“Well, he usually lives in Vegas. In America.”
“Where Grandma lives? Is that where you met him?”
I nod.
“Why now?”
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t want to meet me for years. Why now?”
My heart aches. His little brain is struggling to understand, and I don’t blame him. Love is a complex thing.
“Dean didn’t know you were here.”
“Where did he think I was?”
“Okay, wrong choice of words,” I reply. “He didn’t know he had a son. I didn’t tell him you were in my belly.”
PJ’s face scrunches up. “Why not?”
“That’s a story for when you’re older, kiddo.”
“Was he always bad?”
I shake my head. “He’s not a bad guy. Sometimes, he just doesn’t like following the rules. That’s all.”
Most of the time, in fact.
“And you’re sure he’s really my dad?”
A small chuckle escapes me. “I’m positive. Dean Walsh is your father.”
“Walsh. Like Jamie and Margot.”
I furrow my eyebrows. “Yeah, they are his grandparents.”
“So they’re related?”
“Yeah, I thought you knew that, buddy.”
“But doesn’t that mean I’m related to Jamie now? Emory has cousins. Is Jamie my cousin?”
“He’s your great-grandfather. Jamie told you he was at the ice cream shop.”
PJ’s face brightens. “He did not tell me that.”
“He did, but okay, not worth the argument.”
“Emory is going to be so jealous.”
“Wait, that’s what this is about?”
“Emory’s dad is a police officer like Arnie. If he found out my dad was a bad guy, he’d make fun of me.”
“Okay?”
“But if he knows my grandpa is a boxer, he’ll leave me alone.”
“Does Emory pick on you?”
He shrugs. “Sometimes.”
“Have you talked to your teacher about it?”
PJ’s face twists in mortification. “NO! And you can’t either. He’ll really pick on me if you talk to her.”
“Okay. Okay, relax, kid. I won’t speak to her. But I want you to tell me if Emory does anything else.”
“I will.”
“Do you want to talk about anything else?”
“Is Arnie coming to the family dinner tomorrow? Can Jamie come too?”
“Uh, I don’t know if Arnie is coming. But I can ask.”
I haven’t spoken to him in a few days, not since I gave him a ride home from the airport. Another small decision causing a big uproar. I’m not even sure I am qualified to be an adult. Does everyone make mistakes like this, or am I just the dumbest person in the universe?
“And what about Dean?” I ask. “Can he come to dinner?”
“I don’t know, Mom. Does he have to?”
“No. But I would appreciate it if you gave him a chance. It’s my fault he wasn’t around, Patrick. Not his. Okay?”
I never thought I’d find myself defending Dean, but it’s only right.
He nods. “Okay, Mom. But if I don’t like him by dessert tomorrow, I never want to see him again.”
I chuckle. “Okay, kiddo.”
“I’m serious. And I get to eat his dessert.”
“Boy, go to sleep.”
He giggles. The sound puts me a little more at ease. Today has been a wild roller coaster of emotions, but knowing my son is okay helps.
I lean down, kissing his forehead. “Goodnight, kid. Sweet dreams.”
“Night, Mom. I love you.”
“Love you too.” I blow him another kiss before pulling his bedroom door shut.
The wave of relief as the latch clicks shut would make a surfer jealous. I love my son more than life itself, but I just need a little me-time. Time to process everything that has happened. How, in just a few days, has my life turned upside down? My mind feels discombobulated, like it’d been through a blender. I don’t understand how things can change so quickly. Dean said he was staying in Ireland for the foreseeable future. What does that mean for PJ and me? Does he plan to continue being part of his life? We hadn’t really talked about it today. Once we told PJ, we all just focused on him. He was upset. Dean left early so PJ could spend time with his grandparents without worrying about him.
My gut says Dean will be around for the next thirteen years, whether I like it or not. What will our new normal look like? Would Dean and I be able to co-parent without yelling at each other? I’m not sure. Honestly, sometimes I want to throat-punch him. Knowing the real reason behind everything only makes me hate him more. But hatred isn’t all I feel, and that is the problem. I can’t be with him. I don’t want to be with him. So how do I move on from him? If six years and several thousand miles didn’t work, what will?
I’m pulled from my thoughts by the front door opening. The hallway is dark, only the end illuminated by living room light. Warren told me he wasn’t coming home tonight, and it’s late. What if it is some creep? One of my worst fears as a single mom. I know the chances are slim, but it feels like the news is constantly filled with such stories these days. Slowly, I move toward the light, hoping it was my brother and not someone else.
“Warren?” I call as I look around the corner.
He looks like he’s seen a ghost. “I thought you’d be asleep.”
“It took me a while to settle PJ down. I thought you were staying with Jacoby at the church tonight?”
“Yeah, change of plans,” he says.
“Okay,” I reply.
Entering the living room, I notice his suit is ruffled and messy, something that looks like grass in his short hair.
“What happened to you?”
“Uh, yeah, there was an incident at the church.”
Warren moves his hand to the left side of his stomach, where red stained his crisp white shirt.
“Is that blood? What the fuck happened?”
He puts his hands out. “Calm down, I’m fine. A fight broke out, but everything is okay.”
“You don’t look okay,” I say.
“Sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Stop making jokes. You’re bleeding.”
“Not mine. I’m okay. I promise. You should try to get some rest.”
Why do I get the feeling he is just trying to get rid of me? Something’s weird here. A slew of worries slam into me.
“I can take a hint,” I reply. “But just tell me, is whatever you’re mixed up in like Vegas?”
He sucks in a breath. “I’m not on drugs. I swear, I’m clean. Jacoby drug tests us.”
“Of course he does. He’s so weird.”
Warren chuckles. “He’s pretty odd. But he’s a good guy.” His eyes drift toward PJ’s door. “How did he handle today?”
“Uh, well, it took us an hour to convince him that he wasn’t a bad guy just because Dean was arrested.”
His laugh grows. “That’s hilarious.”
“It might be now.”
“He’ll come around,” Warren says.
“Maybe. I’m inviting them to family dinner tomorrow.”
“You know, I just remembered I have plans tomorrow night and I can’t make it.”
“Don’t you dare, Warren. You’re coming.”
“Uh, I really don’t think I should. Is Arnie going to be there?”
I nod.
“Yeah, that is definitely not a table I want a seat at. It’s going to be a bloodbath.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I grew up with Walsh too, remember? He’s always been a possessive son of a bitch. He used to punch guys just for looking at his car.”
“Well, luckily for me, I’m not his car.”
“Yeah, you’re the mother of his child. I can’t imagine he’s going to let that one go.”
I ignore how his words ring true in my ears. That’s just wishful thinking. Well, not wishful—because I don’t want that anymore. A future with Dean is out of the question.
“I will call Mom and tell her I saw you bleeding.”
Warren’s face changes. “Seriously? Blackmail?”
“Come to dinner and my lips are sealed.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine. I’ll be there.”
“One minute late and I’m calling Mom.”
“I’ll be there,” he repeats. “Now, go get some sleep, you little extortionist.”
“Nice doing business with you.”
“You remind me of Dad, you know that?”
I smile. My dad was my best friend, and every day without him hurts. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
With that, I turn and go to my bedroom, pretending I never saw him. I believe Warren when he said he is sober and clean. He never wavered when he spoke. He is in a good place, and I’m proud of him. I just hope whatever is going on won’t lead him down a dark path again. I wonder if everyone’s lives are imploding right now. I can’t imagine Dean feeling anything but shock. Warren clearly has some issues too. I don’t want to find out how much worse it can get.
My phone beeps from the nightstand. Arnie’s name lighting up the screen with a text:
Is it still okay for me to come to dinner tomorrow?
He’s been coming every Sunday for five months now. Why should tomorrow be any different? If my life is going to implode, I might as well help it along.
You’re always welcome. You know that.
Just checking. See you tomorrow, my love.
I fight the urge to cringe. Why does everything this guy do annoy me? I decide to send a kissy face emoji as a reply. That is a good ending to the conversation, right?
But that only leaves one person left to invite. My thumb hovers over the phone number he typed into my phone that afternoon. I can’t bring myself to call him. Like a chicken, I call Margot instead. Normally, I’d call Jamie, but I can’t even do that. Margot is the safest bet.
“Hello?”
“Hey Margot, it’s Juliette.”
“Hey, honey. Everything okay?”
“Who is it?” someone behind her asks.
That’s when the light bulb goes off. I’ve made a grave mistake.
“It’s Juliette.”
“Let me talk to her.”
“Juliette, honey, Dean wants to say hi.”
“No, that’s okay,” I say quickly. “I’m just letting you know.”
“Bluebird,” Dean interrupts my sentence. “Everything okay?”
My head falls back in defeat. “I asked you to stop calling me that.”
“Old habits die hard.”
“Right. Look, I just called to invite you guys to dinner.”
“Oh,” Dean said. “I’ll tell my grandparents.”
“You’re invited too,” I reply. “PJ asked for you.”
“He did?”
“Yeah, sort of.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re lying for my benefit?”
I sigh. “He wasn’t the most excited about it. But that’s because of his first impression of you. It’s going to take time for him to come around.”
“Yeah. Um, I don’t know what to say to him. I mean, he’s not really wrong. I’m not exactly what you’d call a nice guy.”
“Honesty is always the best policy.”
“Your dad used to say that,” he chuckles.
“I remember. He was usually telling you to stop cheating on a girl.”
“I’ve only ever had one official girlfriend. Only ever loved one woman. You know that.”
I swallow. “We’re not going to talk about us, Dean. It’s off the table. We ended a long time ago.”
“See, that’s where we disagree, Juliette. We were never over. I’ve been looking for you since the day you left.”
“And how convenient is it that you avoided the one place I’ve been the whole time?”
“What?”
Fuck. I didn’t mean for that to slip out.
“Look, dinner is at my place at six. Let your grandparents know, please.”
“We’ll be there. And I already told you, Juliette. You’re mine.”
“And I told you. I’m with Arnie,” I reply.
My heart thrashes hearing his voice. He always had that effect on me. The only man who could make me weak in the knees.
“I can be patient,” he replies.
“We’re engaged,” I blurt.
Dean’s maniacal laughter filled my ears, surrounding me, raking against my spine in a more chilling way than I was used to.
“I never saw a ring on your finger.”
“Um,” I reply. “It needed to be resized.”
Dean scoffs. “He got the size wrong? Any man who loved you wouldn’t do that.”
“Dean, knock it off, okay?” I say, squeezing the words past the lump in my throat. “Arnie and I are getting married.” The lie feels more like a guillotine than a cover.
“Oh, baby girl, no, you’re not.”
“We’re engaged,” I repeat, as if it makes any difference.
“Not for long,” he whispers. “Not. For. Long.”
His promise—or threat—echoes around me even after he hangs up. The horror of what I’d just said set in. Why the fuck did I do that? I just got so nervous. Shit. Shit. It seems the warning Warren gave me had come to fruition. Tomorrow’s dinner really would be a bloodbath. Once again, I was left wondering how one singular choice could lead to such an enormous web of lies. It was almost heartless, if you thought about it. With one choice, I’d fucked so many lives and weaved a world of carefully constructed deceits. The worst part? I didn’t realize I was doing it.
Now, I’ve told the mother of all lies. Dean now thinks I’m engaged to Arnie, and if he says anything tomorrow at dinner, everyone will know. Absolute panic overtook me. I am so fucked. How am I going to figure this out? If Arnie heard what I said, he’d take me seriously. I know he would. So would PJ. Was that a world I really wanted to live in? How much more damage is it going to take before I learned my lesson?