Chapter 8
Rob
“You’re certain you’re up for this?” Anthony eyed me as I squirmed inwardly. I’d made it through the visit to the credit union. Thanks to a very kind staff member who watched over Hallie and Thomas while I signed a million pieces of paper, I had a bank account.
“Yeah, I am.” I said the words with more confidence than I felt. Anthony’s husband, Scott, had invited the kids and me over for a lunch and playdate. Today was his day off from the library. Their older daughter, Laura, would be in school, but Scott was home with the twins and thought they should meet and hopefully connect with Hallie. Scott also mentioned missing those simpler moments from when they were younger and made it clear he’d love to spend some time with a toddler.
I thought he was nuts.
But my kids were also in desperate need of socialization. If they didn’t get out and meet people, they’d never cope in daycare. Because I had to go out and get a job. Something that paid enough so I could afford childcare. Which, frankly, overwhelmed me. Still, Scott’s generous offer wasn’t something I felt I could turn down. So Anthony dropped me and the kids off at his home before heading back to the office. To my mind, some lines were gently being crossed.
And I didn’t give a damn. I was being presented with an opportunity to expand their world. I’d be a fool to turn that down.
Anthony helped me unload Thomas from his SUV while I got Hallie out. She wore a pale-blue T-shirt, blue jeans, and a light coat. The weather was warm, but a breeze blew off the ocean. The Wexler-Rodrigues residence was in the Conway Park neighborhood. A step up from Riverside, but not as prestigious as Marina Park. Personally, I thought their two-story house was beautiful. The coral stucco siding coaxed a smile from me. So welcoming compared to the gray concrete of Gerard’s mansion. I guessed the second story held the bedrooms and, as we walked into the front entryway, the smell of tomato sauce hit me.
My stomach rumbled.
“Well, perfect timing.” Anthony nudged me inside. He put Thomas on the floor. My child immediately barrelled into the living room as two nearly four-year-olds came to greet him.
Hallie stood behind me, grasping my leg.
The little redheaded girl leaned down and pressed a kiss to Thomas’s cheek.
He giggled.
“Uh, Alicia, remember what we said about kissing strangers?” Anthony closed the front door and headed toward his daughter.
“Hi, Daddy!” She held her arms open, clearly expecting a hug from her father.
He didn’t disappoint as he scooped her up and gave her an embrace.
She smacked her lips against his cheek, then pointed to me. “Who’s that?”
“That’s Daddy’s friend Rob, his daughter Hallie, and his son Thomas.”
Anthony let her down and then ruffled his son’s hair. “Hey, Zayden, how goes?”
“Okay.” The boy glanced over to me. Then he appeared to notice Hallie. He waved. “Come play.”
She clung to me.
Scott chose that moment to wander in. He pressed a kiss to Anthony’s cheek, then pivoted to me. “Perfect timing. We’ve got spaghetti cut into little pieces, yellow pepper slices, and cheese. Any allergies?”
I shook my head. And admired how calm the man was. Of course, I’d never had three strangers visit my house like this, so I could only imagine how panicked I’d be. “Can I help?”
Anthony leaned down and pressed a kiss to Scott’s temple. “Gotta run.” He pivoted to me. “I’m in the office doing paperwork all afternoon. Just call when you need a ride home.”
Scott chuckled. “We could manage in the minivan.”
“True. But Rob and I have a few more things to go over once I deliver him safely back to his place. Just as easy for me to run him over. Then we’re not trying to cram four car seats into the van.” He offered me a genuine smile. “It’ll be fine. Call anytime you need an escape.” Then he was gone.
I faced Scott. “I hope you’ve got a bib.” I’d packed the knapsack with everything I thought we might need, but I hadn’t thought to include a bib.
“I’ve got four.” Scott held out his hands. Each of his children grabbed one.
We all made our way into the kitchen where five seats and a high chair sat around a large table.
The next hour was…enlightening. Yes, the six of us managed to consume food. We also laughed. Even Hallie spoke up twice. I was bursting with pride and wanted to hug her, but I knew calling out the unusual behavior would be embarrassing to her.
Zayden and Alicia were hams. They made messes with their food, to be sure, but they also just had fun. Scott encouraged them to enjoy themselves, pointing out he had cleaning supplies.
Supplies I was happy to use after we’d cleaned the kids. The little ones tromped as a group into the playroom—led by Alicia. Scott had pulled out an old playpen, and Thomas was happy to go in there with a pile of toys he’d never played with before. Hallie insisted she would watch over him while Scott and I attempted to put the kitchen to rights.
“Hallie is really protective of Thomas.” Scott scooped the leftover spaghetti into a plastic container.
“Too much?” I swept all the straggling pieces of spaghetti into the compost bin.
“That’s a parenting question I can’t answer.” Scott wet a cloth with some soap and handed it to me. “Our older daughter, Laura, is incredibly protective of the twins. But she came from an…well, a bad place.”
I swallowed hard. “I did my best, Scott, but Hallie’s life hasn’t been all sunshine and roses.”
His eyes showed empathy, and I hated myself for the emotion welling within me. “He never hit her. He never hit Thomas.” I pointed to my taped nose which, amazingly, no one at the bank had commented on. Of course, they all knew Anthony, and there I was, opening my first ever bank account. Pretty clearly, I was fucked. “This was the first time.”
“And the last. Good for you.” Scott grabbed a broom. “You sweep and I’ll mop?”
Way too much spaghetti sauce had landed on the floor. Although Thomas often made a mess with his highchair tray, he rarely sent food over the side. Hallie ate meticulously, never spilling a drop. That level of vigilance scared me.
Often everything about her scared me. “I think Hallie needs to see a counsellor.”
Scott scrubbed at the floor where I’d just swept the last of the noodles into a dustbin. “You probably need to see someone as well.” He met my gaze. “I’m no therapist. I just…sometimes people come into the library and I can see them hurting and I want to point them toward getting help. Anthony, of course, sometimes shares nonspecific details about things that he’s seen.”
“That must be tough to hear.”
“Sure.” He leaned back against the counter. “My parents rejected me because I was gay. I came out here, found a way to pay for school, and did my best.”
“You have two beautiful children. Well, and your other daughter.”
“Who you might yet meet.” Scott gave me a long look. “My route to parenthood was…untraditional. But we don’t hide it from people. Well, maybe some parts.”
My ears perked up, and I tried to be nonchalant. People never confided in me. That just wasn’t a thing.
“Anthony showed up on my doorstep one day with two nine-month-old babies.”
I blinked.
“Yeah. Said they were mine. Since I’d never had sex with a woman, I had my doubts.”
“And yet…”
He offered a small smile. “I used to donate sperm. Helped pay for college. Unbeknownst to me, a friend of mine figured out which was mine and used it. That…didn’t go over well with her husband.”
I winced.
“Yeah, pretty much. I won’t go into the details, but she needed me to take care of them. For what turned into forever. And I have zero regrets. I’ve made my peace with my friend. She writes. I send her pictures. She’s in a better headspace. Out of that marriage, thank God.”
I flashed to my marriage. Will that ever be over? Will I ever get free? I just didn’t have answers to those questions. “And then…”
“Well, Anthony was helping. He practically moved in because I knew nothing about babies. They became attached. I became attached.” He grinned. “My future husband became attached. The next thing I knew, we moved into this place, got married, he adopted the twins legally, and…we started fostering Laura.” He chuckled. “I make that sound like it all happened in a day. It didn’t. But…” He looked around. “This is the life I was meant to be living. If you’d told sixteen-year-old me that I’d wind up married and with three kids, I never would’ve believed it.”
“Yeah. Sixteen-year-old me wouldn’t have believed I’d wind up where I am. I love my kids.” I had to say that. He needed to understand.
Slowly, he nodded. “I get it. I really do.” He snagged the broom from my hand and tucked it aside with the mop. “Would you like a hug before we go and try to wrangle our kids into taking a nap?”
I blinked rapidly. “Yeah, that would be really nice.”
And for the first time in longer than I could remember, someone held me. And for the first time in forever, I let go—allowing myself to have a good cry.