Chapter 30
DANNY
“Mom, I’m home,” I call as I enter the apartment.
She appears in the living room a second later, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Hi, honey. You got here early.”
“I didn’t want to be late.” I walk over and plant a kiss on her cheek. “Do you need help with dinner?”
“Oh no. I’ve got everything all set. I’m making ham and cheese lasagna.”
“My favorite.”
Mom returns to the kitchen, and I follow her, too anxious to find out what she wanted to talk to me about. I pull up a stool while she chops vegetables for the salad.
“So, I’m here. What did you want to tell me?”
She doesn’t answer for a couple of beats, but I notice the new rigidness around her mouth.
“Mom? You’re making me worried.”
With a sigh, she stops chopping and looks at me. “It’s about your father. He got in touch.”
Suddenly, it feels like my world has gone off-kilter. I’m glad I’m sitting because I might have collapsed otherwise.
“I see. Why?”
A long time ago, Mom told me the truth about my conception and why my father wasn’t in the picture. I pretended for her sake that I didn’t care, but what eight-year-old wouldn’t care that their father would rather he’d never been born?
“He’s sick, and I guess he wants to make amends.”
I laugh bitterly. “Oh, that’s rich. So he only wants to connect with his son because he’s on his deathbed?”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Honey, I know this is hard for you. It’s not easy for me either. I almost fell off my chair when he showed up at Dr. Francis’s office.”
“What? He came by your place of work? The nerve!”
“He figured I wouldn’t take his call. He was right. After I recovered from the shock of seeing him in the flesh after all these years, I wanted to toss him out. Of course, I couldn’t cause a scene in the office.”
“The bastard was counting on that.”
“Yeah. He cornered me, and I had no choice but to hear what he had to say.” She sighs. “Long story short, he wants to meet you.”
“I don’t care that he’s dying. I want nothing to do with the man.” I stand suddenly as all my years of suppressed anger come to the surface.
“I’ll be behind any decision you make. I won’t push you to meet him. But I also couldn’t not let you know about it.”
I pull my hair back, yanking at the strands. “I-I can’t be here, Mom. I have to go.”
“What about dinner?”
“Freeze it, will you?”
Her expression falls, but I don’t want her to witness me wrestle with my conflicted feelings.
I head out, forgetting to kiss her goodbye.
My mind is going a hundred miles an hour, trying to reconcile the fact that I’ve always wanted to know my father and the truth that he only wants to meet me because he’s dying.
The drive back to campus is torment. The radio is on, but no song that comes through helps with my dark mood. Traffic is brutal, and for once, I don’t have the patience for it. I honk and curse, getting dangerously close to having a road rage episode.
This is hell.
After an eternity, I finally turn onto my street. But when I park in front of my building, I don’t get out of the car right away. I’m not sure who is home, but I know I’m not in the mood to see or talk to anyone. I can’t just sit here though.
Decision made, I get out and go for a jog.
My head is full of thoughts, so I let my feet take me wherever they want.
I run until my breathing comes out in bursts and sweat dots my skin.
When I finally stop, I brace my hands on my knees to catch my breath.
I have no idea where I am until I look up and see I’m in front of the library building.
This is where Sadie and I used to meet every day for our morning runs.
I’m not sure why my subconscious decided to bring me here, but being reminded of what I lost is just adding insult to injury.
I turn around, determined to get the hell out of here as fast as possible, even though my legs are beginning to protest. I stop when I see a familiar figure running in my direction, her blonde ponytail swishing with the rhythm of her pace.
She sees me and slows down, coming to a stop in front of me. She must have just started her run because she looks fresh out of the shower.
“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here,” she says.
“Same.”
She furrows her brow. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Am I that transparent?
“Why do you ask?”
“You don’t look happy.”
I rub my face, not knowing how to respond to that, then look out in the distance. “I went to see my mom today.”
She steps closer and touches my arm. “Is everything okay?”
I try to ignore the goose bumps that form on my arm thanks to her hand there.
“No. But you probably don’t want to hear me cry about my problems.”
“Danny, you can talk to me.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Can I? I remember vividly the last time we spoke. You didn’t want anything to do with me. Friendship was off the table.”
“I was wrong.”
I want to yell at her, say she can take her friendship card and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine, but I don’t do any of that. That proves how low my self-esteem is that I’m willing to accept her crumbs. Pathetic.
Bone-tired, suddenly, I head for the steps leading to the library building and sit down. Sadie follows and drops next to me.
“My father contacted my mother. Showed up at her work.”
“Without more context, I’m going to assume that’s a bad thing.”
I bring my knees up and hug my legs. “Sorry. I should probably explain why I never met him before.”
“You don’t have to, but I’m all ears if you do.”
After our fight, Sadie should be the last person I’d want to unload my family drama to. But even after all these weeks without speaking, the feeling that I can tell her everything hasn’t gone away.
“When he and my mother were dating, he neglected to tell her he was married. She only discovered after she got pregnant and he freaked out. Told her he wanted nothing to do with me and gave her money to have an abortion.”
She touches my arm and squeezes. “I’m so sorry, Danny. That’s total rubbish.”
“Yep. And now he’s sick, probably dying, and he wants to meet me.”
“You must be feeling all sorts of conflicted emotions, aren’t you?”
I nod once. “I am, and that’s the problem.
Why am I feeling guilty for saying I don’t want to meet the son of a bitch?
He told my mother to get rid of me. He never once in nineteen years reached out to ask how we were doing.
And suddenly I’m supposed to meet him to make him feel better about his guilty conscience? ”
“You’re feeling guilty because you’re not a horrible person like he is. You shouldn’t though. You’re probably going to think even less of me for saying this, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s not your father. He’s just a sperm donor, and you shouldn’t feel an ounce of remorse for saying no to him.”
“I don’t think ill of you, Sadie.”
She withdraws her hand from my arm, and I miss the contact.
“Why not? You should. I was a real bitch to you.”
“A little.”
“Not a little. Major cunt-ness. I think….” She pauses and sighs. “I think the reason I lost it was because I let you get too close. I never felt that way about anyone before, and I became overwhelmed and frightened.”
My traitorous heart is racing as I turn to her. “What are you saying, Sadie? Did you fall for me?”
“Bugger. I shouldn’t have said anything.” It’s her turn to hug her knees and look away.
“Too late now. You can’t unsay it.”
She faces me, glaring now. “It doesn’t matter, does it? I fucked up royally, and right now, I’m just trying to do the right thing and be a good friend, but I’m already messing it up again. Clearly I suck at relationships of any kind.”
“Yeah, you’re horrible. You can’t even do a love declaration properly.”
She opens her mouth, twisting her face into an expression of indignation. “Danny Hudson, you’re such a concei—”
I reach for the back of her head, keeping her in place while I crush my lips to hers, ceasing her protest. She tenses for a split second before she returns the kiss with the same fervor.
Damn it, I missed her taste, and the way being close to her makes me feel.
This could be another mistake, but hell, there’s no turning back now.
We break apart after a minute, and when I see Sadie’s hooded eyes, my face splits into a smile.
“Why did you stop?” she asks.
“Because we’re making out in front of the library.”
“I don’t care if people see us.”
“You don’t?”
“I want to kiss you whenever I feel like it. That is, if you want me to kiss you often.”
I cup her cheek and run my thumb over it. “Damn straight I do. But I have one condition.”
“What?” She leans back.
“No more friends-with-benefit BS.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Wait. You want to date me?”
I chuckle. “Why do you sound surprised?”
“Because… well, in case you haven’t noticed, I have issues.”
“Who doesn’t? I like you, Sadie. More than I thought I could like anyone again.”
“What about us keeping our focus on our careers?”
“I say we were wrong about the whole thing. Being apart didn’t help with my concentration.”
She scrunches her nose in the cutest way possible, making me want to kiss her again. But I restrain myself.
“No, it sucked actually,” she replies. “There’s only a tiny issue.”
“What is it?”
“How do you think my father will react when he learns you’re sleeping with his daughter?”
Ah hell. I forgot about Coach Clarkson. But since I’m a guy, that’s not what my mind focuses on.
“Are you saying sex is back on the menu?” I grin.
She narrows her eyes. “Based on your response to what I just said, maybe we should hold off on that for a little bit.”
“Okay, okay. So let’s stress about Coach Clarkson, then. That’s way more fun.”