8. Hayes
HAYES
My mom answers the video call in good spirits, it seems, as I sit in the back of the car for an early-morning meeting out of the office.
“Hi, Mom,” I greet her. It’s early, but since she's on the east coast, she’s an hour ahead, and she normally eats breakfast around now. Morning calls are not unusual for us.
“Morning. How are things? I haven’t heard from you since before you moved. How did it go? I can imagine unpacking will be a pain.” She’s sitting in the living room with a mug of coffee in one hand and the phone in the other.
My heart races because I’m about to share the life-changing news. “Yeah, sorry. Something has kind of happened. I have news.”
Her morning smile disappears with concern. “What do you mean? Is everything okay? Were you at the doctor's or something?”
Quickly, I shake my head. “Nothing like that. I’m fine. I discovered something pretty big. As in I have a daughter.”
Her entire face turns to shock. “What?”
“I have a daughter,” I reiterate, and I smile as well. “She’s two years old, and her name is Lola.”
She sets her coffee down to cover her mouth, which is in a wide O. “You’re a dad?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“And the mother?” She sounds indifferent.
“Her name is Elodie. We met on vacation, and it was a one-time kind of thing, then.” Because now I’m not so sure anymore what the future will bring.
“How do you know Lola is yours? She could be after your money.”
My eyes grow as I tip my head to the side.
“No. She isn’t. Hasn’t even asked for a cent.
It’s also a small world because she’s Julian’s fiancée's best friend and works at my office. She wasn’t trying to keep her from me, either.
We never exchanged…” Not sure now is the time to admit to my mother, even as a grown man, that I had a nameless one-night stand.
“Adults make mistakes. I’m guilty, too. Let it go. She’s in my life now.”
“She kept your daughter from you.” My mother sounds protective, yet I’m concerned that she might not let it go.
“Not exactly like that. I need you to close that topic and trust me.”
She doesn’t seem to agree. “But you’ll marry her then.”
I scoff a laugh. “It doesn’t always work like that.”
“It’s what your father would say to do.”
My chest pings at the memory of him. She’s right, too. My brain spirals and questions if I should consider it more and really put the option on the table for Elodie. But I already know she would laugh.
“Plus, you’re both adults who should be settling down by now. Why is she still single at her age? Isn’t that cause for concern?”
Yikes, I don’t recall my mom ever being this judgmental. “First off, take it down a notch. And Elodie is young, she doesn’t exactly have a clock ticking.”
“How young?”
“Ten years younger than me.”
She chuffs a laugh. “How did you two meet?”
“When I was down in Puerto Rico a few years ago.”
“Oh my gosh, so she’s a spring-breaker?”
My jaw drops. I’ve never seen her so worked up. “No! Simmer down. Elodie comes from a small town here in Illinois and works hard. She’s recently been promoted to manager. A great mother, too. You two will hit it off.”
“Fine. If she is all of those things, then consider being together and get married. We didn’t send you to Catholic mass growing up for nothing.”
“I’m not sure tradition is for me.” It’s partly a lie, but there is a piece of me eager to go buy a damn ring.
My mother hums a sound of perhaps disapproval, but then she calms, the moment stretches, and her features lighten. “I have a granddaughter?”
“Yeah. You’ll see a resemblance.”
Now she’s beaming, and I’m relieved our conversation is back in the right direction. “I was getting worried that I might have to wait forever. You’re pushing your late thirties. When can I meet her?”
My chest tightens as I take a deep breath, my mind flooded with apprehension. “Soon. Just not yet. I only just met her. We’re going to need some time to adjust and get to know one another. I’ll send you photos, though.”
She sighs. “Fair enough. You can only hold me off for so long, though.”
“I figured.” I grin and grab my tie, which is lying on the seat next to me. “Listen, we can talk more about it later. I’ve got to run. There is a minor crisis at the office, and I need to jump into it.”
“Of course.”
We say our goodbyes, and it’s good to know that she will have joy in her life again.
It’s not often we talk about my dad’s absence, but it’s fresh enough in our heads, as it’s only been a year.
Lola is a gift in a way. Unexpected, but she will bring a little extra happiness to my mom.
My elation at the thought is ruined when the driver informs me we are approaching the restaurant for the breakfast meeting.
Two hours later, Foster and I exit the car after our ride from the restaurant and step onto the busy sidewalk. It was an early-morning breakfast meeting at the crack of dawn because he has a plane to catch at ten.
“That was excruciating. Now we have to cram a leadership meeting into ten minutes, all because someone in our Miami office fucked up some numbers,” he complains.
Rightfully so, there was a miscalculation in import tax that ran into the seven figures.
“Everything is fixable, remember that,” I encourage, even if I’m going to get dragged into this headache too.
Entering the bustling building, people are in line for elevators, and the escalators are full. To my right at Beans, it’s busy too.
Foster and I head straight to the elevator reserved for the top floors, and luckily, we don’t have to face a line since the top floors indicate seniority and not many people get that privilege, so we have space and fewer members of staff.
He jabs his finger into the buttons, and we both look up to see the light moving above the doors.
A strange sensation tugs at my leg. Confused, I frown.
“You have a kid at your feet,” Foster flatly points out.
Looking down, I see Lola, and I’m quick to crouch down level with her.
Elodie is hot on her trail. “Sorry, she just sprang free from my hand on our way to daycare.” She lets out a long exhale. “She’s been a fun one this morning.” I sense the sarcasm.
“Has she now?”
Lola pulls on my suit pants.
“Why, hello there.”
Elodie steps forward. “She kept asking about you last night. Well, more why did our friend have her favorite toys.”
“At least you remember me, even if it is for my toys.” I grin.
Lola stares at me with neutrality and hugs her bunnies. “Dada.”
For a moment, I freeze, disbelief rippling through me as if time pauses.
“What did you say?”
“Dada,” she coos. Simply but confident.
She did.
She uttered the word.
To me.
Glancing quickly up, Elodie seems taken aback, almost misty-eyed as she smiles affectionately at her daughter. “I guess she was listening the other day.”
I can only smile.
I’m officially a dad now.