Chapter 8 Piper
PIPER
“I told you to stay in your room,” I said.
“But Beau had my shoe, Mommy. You said if Beau ever got-”
“I know what I said. But I told you to stay in your room. All you had to do was take the shoe from Beau and hand him one of his toys I know you keep stuffed underneath your bed.”
“Sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay,” I said as I scooped him up. “You just have to do what Mommy says okay? It’s imperative you stay in your room right now.”
“Why?”
“Because the man downstairs is very sick, and I don’t need you running around and disturbing his rest.”
“Because you’re his doctor?”
“Exactly,” I said. “Because I’m his doctor. You want him to get better, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then he has to have quiet and he has to rest.”
“But I heard you guys talking.”
“I was just telling him what happened to him and asking if he could remember things. That’s it,” I said.
“Oh.”
“Beau’s going to spend some time outside, and in the meantime, I’m going to put on a movie for you to watch.”
“Do I have to stay up here all day?” he asked.
“No, sweet boy. Just for a little while. Until the movie’s done, okay?”
“Okay.”
I settled my son back into bed and turned on his favorite movie.
A musical. I’d memorized that thing from front to back.
He knew every song and sang them out as loudly as he could.
Normally, I’d stray away from that movie as much as possible.
It got on my last nerve and made me want to punch a damn wall.
But in this particular instance, I didn't mind it at all.
He slid down underneath the covers and lost himself in the movie, so I rose up and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“I love you,” I said.
“Love you too, Mom.”
I really hoped Gavin would stay in his room this time.
Little kids never listened, but if there was any time for him to listen, it was now.
I closed his door so he didn’t have to hear the inevitable conversation that was about to ensue, then I leaned against the door and placed my forehead on it.
I allowed myself a moment’s rest. Just a moment to bring my thoughts together and prepare myself for the inevitable.
Then I looked down at myself and figured I could use a change of clothes.
Anything to put off what was about to happen.
I slid into my bedroom and started pulling out some outfits.
I slid my nightgown off and tossed it into the corner, resolving myself to the least amount of work in order to conserve energy.
I pulled on some panties and tucked myself into a bra, then pulled on a pair of skinny jeans that came all the way up to my waist. I slipped a t-shirt over my head that was cut off at my waist, then I piled my blonde hair into a messy bun on top of my head.
I walked into my bathroom and splashed some water in my face, drawing in deep breaths to try and stop the swell of panic rising in my gut.
Then, I took a good, hard look at myself in the mirror.
I wanted to brush it off. To tell Rock that Gavin wasn’t his child.
But we both knew better. Gavin was the spitting image of his father, and I saw that realization wash over his face.
He knew. Rock knew he had a son. And I knew the second I walked down those stairs he would ask me if Gavin was his.
We’d been through a lot, both good and bad.
And while I wasn’t a fan of what he had chosen to do with his life, he did help me through an insane time in my life.
He helped to distract me from the pressures of school and the death of my father.
He whisked me away on weekend adventures that helped me with my grieving process.
I hated him for the life he led, but I loved him for what he had given me that summer.
Gavin, included.
That boy was my world. The reason I got up every single morning.
As I wiped my face off with a towel, I recalled the first time I figured out I was pregnant.
The signs were all there. Vomiting. Headaches.
Exhaustion. Chest pain. Every single symptom that could’ve come as a result of a pregnancy hit me all at once.
I took drug store test after drug store test before finally resolving myself to going and seeing a doctor, and it was like my world had stopped.
And for a brief couple of weeks, I considered having an abortion.
The guilt, even now, was overwhelming. Tears flooded my vision as I conjured my son’s face.
How I could have ever thought about aborting my pregnancy with him made me sick to my stomach.
Gavin single-handedly brought a light into my world that could never be snuffed out.
He was full of life and always smiling and always had something to giggle about.
He was sociable and energetic and caring to his core.
He might look like his father, but he got his disposition from me.
The perfect combination of two imperfect individuals.
I took the time to apply some makeup. I wanted to feel normal for this conversation.
I swiped on some mascara and wing-tipped my eyeliner.
I put chapstick on my lips before lining it in a cherry red.
I felt at peace with makeup on. I felt put together.
Held together by the bonds of the accents I drew along my face.
I slid everything off to the side and gave myself one last look, then I resolved myself to a conversation I knew had to take place.
I walked by Gavin’s room, listening as he sang to the first song of the movie.
It warmed my heart to hear his little voice wafting through the door.
My hand hit the railing and I started down the steps of my childhood home, my heart pounding fervently in my chest. My hand gripped the wooden support at my side.
I willed my legs to stay strong enough to get down the stairs.
I turned a corner and stood in the hallway, coming face to face with the man that had changed my world all those years ago.
A man I couldn't forget if I tried.
His eyes held my stare, but they were vacant.
Almost as if he wasn’t in this world any longer.
I took a step down the hallway and my movement stunned him, his head shaking to bring him out of his trance.
And when his eyes fell onto mine again, they hardened.
Those steely gray eyes that used to hold a warmth for me grew cold and dark.
His eyes dropped down my body again, but not with the initial shock and surprise it once had.
Instead, his nose twitched. Like he smelled something bad in the rafters of my home and was trying to be polite enough not to bring it up.
But I knew Rock.
And I knew what was about to fly out of his mouth.
“Rock?” I asked.
His eyes panned back up to mine, but his body didn’t move.
“Do you remember anything else about your accident last night?” I asked.
He snickered, but his eyes never wavered.
“That’s what you’re concerned about?” he asked.
“As your doctor, yes.”
“I’m not talking to you as my doctor.”
“Then who am I to you right now?” I asked.
“I’m honestly not fucking sure right now.”
The words hurt more than I had imagined they would.
“He’s five.”
“He is,” I said.
“Did you carry him for nine months?”
“Rock, I--”
“Answer me, Piper.”
Hearing my name so hard off his lips settled my heart into my stomach.
“Eight and a half, but yes. Essentially,” I said.
He snickered again, and that time he peeled his gaze away from mine.
He shook his head and I could see how unsteady he still was on his feet.
He stumbled over to the couch and I rushed for him, but his hand jutted out and caught me in my chest. Preventing me from helping him, even in a doctoral capacity.
“I got it,” he said.
“You need to rest.”
“I need answers,” he said.
“You can have all the answers you want if you just lay back down. You shouldn’t be on your feet right now.”
“And you shouldn't have hid this from me!”
His voice bellowed all over my house. It pressed into every corner and echoed down every hallway.
I took a step back from him, putting some distance between us as he stood back up.
He rolled his shoulders back as his eyes continued to darken, and for the first time ever I wondered if he was going to hurt me.
I backed up to the entrance of the hallway and kept my eyes on him with one ear trained on the steps.
“Is Gavin mine?” Rock asked.
“Rock, I really think you should--”
“Is Gavin. My son?”
There it was. The moment of truth. And even though everything inside of me wanted to lie and cheat and steal myself away from that moment, I knew I couldn’t.
If I was going to be living and thriving in Redding, it was only a matter of time before he figured it out anyway if he was still in town.
I knew that much. I’d convinced myself he wasn’t in town any longer, but it was obvious he was.
It was obvious he always had been.
So, instead of lying, I simply nodded my head ‘yes’.