Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
DUSTIN
December 2014
I t’s been two months since I last saw Echo. I thought about writing to her but needed to get some things figured out first. First, I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that I’m a dad and figuring out what to do with that. Then I realized that I needed to get my shit figured out, which led me to closing on my very first home today.
I never desired to be a homeowner until I knew I had a son. I stand on the porch of Echo’s childhood home and unlock the door to what I hope to be our home one day. No matter what, I want it to be a safe place for her if she ever needs to get away. And worst-case scenario, it’s a home I can have for when my son comes to visit.
Either way, I have a son.
I walk through the office opening and decide it’s time. I need to finally acknowledge the situation. When I have so many thoughts going on in my mind, it’s so hard for me to hone in on them. So I write the only logical things that come to me and call it good.
Echo,
I have a son…tell me everything, please.
Love, Dustin
Then I walk out of the house and make a list of items I need to complement all the painting that’s been done. I make my way the short distance downtown, stopping at the post office first for envelopes and stamps. While I’m there, I pull her business card out and address her letter before tossing it in the outgoing mail. Then I drive to the hardware store. While I’m in there buying the tools necessary to pull all the carpet up, I stop in the back to have a duplicate key made for me and request a special inscription on it.
“WHY ARE YOU doing all of this?” my mom asks, standing on my porch. I kind of bought this house behind everyone’s back. I didn’t want to chance someone talking me out of it.
“Because I need my own space.”
“We’ve barely had you back. Is living with us so bad?”
I laugh. She doesn’t want me to answer that honestly.
“I’m barely down the street, Ma. Quit tripping.”
“Yes, hon. Let’s go home and let Dustin get back to work.” My dad urges. Always the sensible one of the duo.
“No, I refuse to leave until he opens up to us. He always keeps things in and never talks to us. I want to know what’s going on. You don’t just buy your old girlfriend’s home for no reason.” She all but laughs and it makes me want to kick her in the ankle. My dad gives me a sympathetic look, apologizing for his unruly wife standing all defiant with her arms crossed.
“Fine.” I let out an exasperated breath. They need to know. Might as well get it out now. “You’re right. There is something.”
“Everything okay?” my dad asks.
“Everything is better than okay.” I grab the top of his arm, reassuring him. We walk inside, and I direct them both to sit on the couch. “I need you both to take a seat. There’s some news that I recently found out about and need to share with you.”
They both cautiously sit, unsure of where this is heading.
“Okay, well, for any of this to make sense, I have to backtrack to thirteen years ago.” They both listen intently as I unravel my complicated history with Echo. Their mouths hang slightly agape as I recount how we fell in love, she was ripped away from me, and how my anger and hope of finding her led me to the Army. Toward the end, my mom’s eyes begin misting up.
“It all makes sense now,” she mumbles.
“I have a grandson?” My dad’s face instantly lights up.
I smile. “Yeah, you do. He’s thirteen and his name is Dylan Ryan Adams.”
“Thirteen years old,” my mother sobs. “So much lost time.”
I gulp. So much lost time indeed. But I aim to rectify the hell out of it. “Don’t go into this thinking that. Go into this thinking of all the time you’ll have with him now.”
She nods her head in agreement.
I walk into the office area and grab the envelope I received that morning in the mail. Echo wrote me back, telling me all about our boy. How much he weighed at birth. How he’s a third baseman, just like I was. How smart and funny he is. Also, just like me. And sent many pictures to accompany the letter. From ultrasound to this year’s baseball picture. He’s such a stud and although I haven’t officially met him yet, I’m so proud to be his dad. I just pray he accepts me.
“He’s so handsome.” My mom cries, looking through the pictures. “He looks just like you did at that age.”
“I know.” I feel so much joy, my heart is going to explode.
My mom’s chest begins to heave as more tears stream down her face. “I’m so sorry, Dustin. I’m to blame for this, too. I just wanted you to have a great life. You had so much talent.” She holds up the picture of Echo young and pregnant. “I remember her stopping by shortly after you enlisted. I was so wrapped up in my own feelings I didn’t take notice of who she was. I’ve always been so selfish when it comes to you boys.”
I want to scream “Hallelujah! Finally!” But I don’t think throwing her admission in her face would help benefit the situation. I sit down next to her and pull her in for a hug. We’re all to blame. I’m just glad we’re all seeing that because now we can move forward.