Chapter 35 Showing Up
Davey
At twenty-four weeks, I needed to do something to blow Eva away.
We’d hit the illustrious viability day. Things were better than before, but nowhere near perfect.
Eva continued trying. We talked about things not just after a good roll in the hay, but over meals with our clothes on.
She no longer resisted eating a lunch with me for fear of what people might say. Slowly, her walls came down.
But no matter what I did, I couldn’t fix the underlying problem.
So, on viability day, I held my entire afternoon—saying nothing to Eva.
I made a trip south, all while ensuring she had a cake waiting for her with “Happy Viability Day” written in bubbly letters.
I sent her flowers and looked for no big response.
These weren’t grand gestures, and I wasn’t there for her to coo over it, so she’d feel more comfortable accepting.
What I did in the wake of those things was take a ridiculous journey south to Eva’s homeland. I posted up at her parents’ house unexpected, finding only her dad’s truck near the barn with Eva’s beloved childhood horse in the crossties. Neither of her parents were in sight. I patted the horse.
“Hey, Poco. Anyone around?”
The horse bobbed his head to say yes, but I heard nothing.
I called out over the radio playing classic rock, “Hello! Bert? Mary?”
Nothing. I filed down the barn aisle, past another horse in a stall, and into the pasture behind the barn. I spotted Bert trying to tack a third board on the fence.
“Shit,” I trotted over. “Bert!”
He dropped the board and turned, not expecting anyone.
“Can I help?” I offered.
“Dressed like that?” Bert wiped his brow. “I don’t think so.”
“I can help,” I said.
“Poco went wild and decided to kick down the fence. He ended up down the road eating grass on the golf course,” Bert said.
“Mary went to town. I figured she’d be back by now, but no.
I’ve been lugging this thing around trying to nail with one hand and hold it with the other.
But I forgot my glasses and I cannot even see. ”
“Can you hold the board?” I asked.
“Sure,” Bert said.
I grabbed the hammer and nails, placing them on the fence post. As Bert held the board steady, I nailed three in before moving opposite.
“You’re a lefty,” Bert observed.
“Yes, I am,” I agreed. “To my mother’s dismay and that of the nuns in my preschool who tried so hard to stop me from writing left-handed.”
I wondered to myself if our boys would be stuck with that regrettable trait.
“Lefties are supposed to be world leaders, aren’t they?”
“No clue,” I laughed, setting the hammer in his toolbox after the final nail.
Bert and I stood back and looked at our progress.
“It should do. That little bastard better watch himself,” Bert groaned. “He’s an old man. I told him he should know better.”
We returned to the barn, Bert lugging his toolbox. I put Poco in the pasture and found Bert filling the water trough.
“Why are you here? Without Eva?” He asked.
“Eva doesn’t know I’m here. She didn’t send me. I’m trying to help her fix things. She wants you in her life but cannot deal with Brooke. She thinks you will never love her and accept our kids like you do Miles. I know that isn’t true, but she needs to hear it.”
A car pulled up. Eva’s mother approached, probably confused to see my driver.
“Is Eva here?” She called.
“No, Mary. It’s David. He wanted to talk about Eva.”
Mary approached, purse over her shoulder, face angry, and arms crossed.
Bert turned off the spigot and shook his head. “Like I said before, we love Eva and want to be in her life, but we struggle with the Brooke part.”
My stomach lurched. “Which part? You can honestly say you want nothing to do with our children? That doesn’t seem right.
Brooke is your child, but she’s also been a homophobic, shitty person to Eva.
She’s shamed her and accused her of everything under the sun.
I understand your desire to make it all work, but neither Eva nor I will tolerate that behavior around our children. ”
“It’s not that we want that. It’s that I think we can put aside differences. With Eva, everything is black and white,” Mary curtly said. “There is no compromise with her. And you being here on her behalf is living proof she’s unwilling to talk about any of this.”
“In many ways, I agree,” I said. “Eva is especially stubborn, but she does what is right to protect the people she loves—that includes you. She didn’t send me. She doesn’t know I’m here. I do this because I love her and I know you do, too. There must be a way.”
“Not if she cannot compromise—”
“Mary, listen to him a second,” Bert groaned.
I explained, “To Eva, it is something she is. It is who we are as a family, too. I’d agree with you that we could agree to disagree over putting ketchup on a hotdog, but this isn’t like that.”
Bert said, “That’s it! This isn’t a political disagreement or a spat. This is who Eva is. When Brooke says these things, she knows it hurts.”
“I never see it that way. What does it matter? Eva is with David. They aren’t a gay couple. Their kids don’t even need to know.”
I rubbed my temples, trying not to fly off the handle.
I heard my sister Dahlia’s voice in my head—her annoyed retort and Mum’s insistence that dating a man “cured” her.
She’d shouted, “Good dick doesn’t change this!
I’m me!” Mum regretted those words for months after she returned to culinary school and didn’t come home for a year.
Daphne and I tried to protect Dahlia and do the legwork, but it took years to rebuild things between them.
“Eva would tell them. We would tell them,” I said. “Besides, they have an aunt who has mostly dated women. This is a topic we cannot avoid—wouldn’t avoid. I haven’t changed Eva. I didn’t rewrite her past. I didn’t want to.”
“Doesn’t talking about it bother you?”
“No. Why?”
“I cannot imagine having to compete with the idea of women and men,” Mary cringed.
“I’m not in competition with anyone,” I said.
“I don’t worry she’s going to run off with a woman any more than I worry about her running off with a man.
Regardless, we have kids together—kids that Eva wants you to know.
I’m not asking you to consider loving your other daughter less or to never speak to her again.
Eva would never want that either. It’s why when Ellie suggested she uninvite you to spare Eva the awkwardness at the wedding, Eva told her to not do that. ”
Mary and Bert stared dumbfounded at one another.
“It wasn’t out of cruelty,” I said. “It was just… out of Ellie’s concern for Eva.”
“So, what do we need to do?” Mary asked.
“I think she needs you to tell her that you love her, that you love our babies and want to be in their lives, and that you would protect them.”
“But they will see Brooke—”
“No,” Bert shook his head. “What Eva wants is to not be around Brooke unless Brooke is willing to apologize.”
“But Miles and Hannah would never be with their cousins. And we couldn’t possibly have two Christmases, two Easters, and everything else!” Mary declared.
“Everyone has two by the time they have kids and are married,” Bert said. “Why not us?”
“I also don’t know that Eva wants to exclude Miles.
She loves him. If Brooke was willing to drop him at yours when all the kids were a little older and we could drop ours…
I think Eva might come around to that idea.
But right now, she’s very, very pregnant and her emotions always run high.
I know normal Eva rolls with the punches and never cries, but pregnant Eva needs a lot of support and cries all the time. Trust me.”
“Are you done yet?” Mary asked, annoyed.
“Not in the slightest,” I answered. “Not with this or Eva. I come from stupid, stubborn stock and never want to admit defeat.”
“We need to talk to her, sweetheart,” Bert said.
“You’re right. I just… where do we begin?” Mary asked.
I smiled. “I think I have an idea.”