Chapter 7
Sam Morning - Five Days After Chloe’s Birthday
I never realized how exhausting lying could be.
I was sitting in my truck outside Kennedy Park, watching Jenna push Leo on the swing set while I tried to summon the energy for this meeting. Five days since that text message, and I still hadn’t managed to tell Chloe the truth.
This was only the second time I’d met Jenna and Leo in person.
Since our first meeting, I’d made arrangements for their motel and meals for a few days, bought Leo some toys to make their situation slightly less miserable.
Jenna had sent texts – dozens of them – asking when we could meet again, asking for money, asking about the next steps.
I’d ignored most of them, replying only to confirm what I’d arranged.
All transactions went directly through the businesses – I’d called the motel, the restaurant, the toy store.
Credit card payments, everything logged and tracked, just like Arthur instructed.
No cash, no direct contact with Jenna beyond the bare minimum.
I’d wanted to tell Chloe before seeing them again, wanted to handle this the right way by being honest with her first. But that hadn’t happened. And I couldn’t keep putting this off.
Today’s meeting had a specific purpose: the paternity test.
This park was technically still in Willowbrook’s limits, but far enough from Main Street that I hoped to avoid curious eyes. It was Thursday morning, the time when most people were at work or school, when a man meeting someone for a quiet conversation wouldn’t attract attention.
“Sam-Sam!” Leo’s voice carried across the playground as he spotted me approaching.
The nickname caught me off guard. We’d only met once, and I didn’t remember him calling me that at the diner, “Hey, buddy.” I ruffled his hair as he scrambled down from the swing, noting again how his cowlick stuck up at exactly the same impossible angle as mine had at his age. “Having fun?”
“Mommy said you were coming to play!” Leo grabbed my hand with his small fingers; his earlier shyness from our first meeting had seemingly vanished. “She showed me more pictures. You look like me!” He pointed to his cowlick, then mine, with the simple logic only a four-year-old possessed.
So Jenna had been showing him photos. Preparing him. I glanced at her, and she had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable.
“Wanna see how high I can swing?” Leo continued, oblivious to the tension. “I can go really, really high!”
“Sure do.” I lifted him back onto the swing, giving him the gentle pushes he requested while Jenna watched from a nearby bench. She looked better than she had at the diner – less desperate, more put-together.
“He hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met,” she said when Leo ran off to explore the playground equipment. “I’ve been… I’ve been showing him photos. Talking about you. I thought it would help him understand.”
“How’s he adjusting to… everything?” I settled onto the bench beside her, maintaining careful distance.
“Better than I expected. He asks about you every day - when will he see Sam-Sam again?” Jenna’s smile was strained. “He’s never had a stable male figure in his life. David was… he was always busy with work, never really around much.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure where this conversation was heading.
“Leo needs that stability. Needs a father who actually wants to be a father.” She looked at me directly. “He needs what you could give him.”
What I could give him. Leo was an innocent kid caught in an impossible situation, and every instinct I had wanted to protect him, provide for him, give him the stable life he should have.
But at what cost?
“Jenna, about the money situation–”
“What you’ve given me helps, but it doesn’t go far,” she interrupted, her voice getting tight with stress.
“Leo asked me yesterday if we’re poor now.
A four-year-old shouldn’t have to worry about whether there’s money for groceries or if the motel manager is going to kick us out for being one day late on payment. ”
“I paid for your motel for the week, and I’m working on something more sustainable.”
“Are you?” She studied my face with the kind of intensity that made me want to look away. “It seems like you’re still trying to figure out how to manage this without disrupting your comfortable life.”
The accusation stung because it was partially true. I was trying to handle this crisis while minimizing the impact on everything else I’d built. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t taking it seriously.
“This situation affects more than just me,” I said carefully. “I have responsibilities, relationships–”
“A relationship.” Jenna’s voice carried a note I didn’t like. “With the vet. Chloe, right? She’s very pretty. Seems successful. Stable.”
“Leave Chloe–”
“I’ve been looking at your town’s social media, trying to understand what kind of life Leo could have here.
” Jenna’s voice cracked slightly. “Everyone knows each other, supports each other. Kids have birthday parties and play dates and soccer teams. Leo needs that. I want him to have friends, Sam. I want him to have a place where he belongs.”
The way she said it made my skin crawl. Like she was studying my life from the outside, making calculations about how it might benefit her.
“Look, Sam-Sam!” Leo called from the top of the slide, waving both arms. “I’m super duper high! I’m taller than you now! Can you see me way up here?”
“I see you, buddy!” I called back.
The playground scene should have been heartwarming – a father bonding with his son on a sunny morning.
But all I could think about was Chloe. I’d usually stop by the clinic with lunch on Thursdays if I could get away from the bar.
Not today, obviously. She’d take a break between appointments, and we’d eat together in her office, her telling me stories about the animals she’d treated that morning while I made her laugh with bar customer gossip.
I could picture her right now – blonde ponytail swinging as she moved between exam rooms, that focused expression she got when she was working, the way she’d absently push her hair behind her ear when she was concentrating. Was she wondering why I flinched every time my phone buzzed?
God, I missed her. Even though I’d see her in a few hours, I missed her. Missed being able to tell her about my day without editing out the most important parts.
Man up, Mitchell. Tell her everything.
I’d been telling myself it wouldn’t be fair to drop this on her when she was so worn out.
Chloe had this expression – “my brain’s not braining” – that she used when she was mentally and physically exhausted.
And it wouldn’t have been fair to have this conversation when her brain wasn’t braining, when she could barely think straight.
But I’d been using that as an excuse. How many times had I told Jack to think about the consequences of his actions? How many lectures had I given him about being a man and facing hard conversations instead of avoiding them? Practice what you preach, Mitchell.
“He loves you already,” Jenna said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve given him more genuine affection than David showed him in his entire life. His face lights up when he talks about Sam-Sam. I haven’t seen him that happy ever.”
I turned to look at her sharply. “Wait. You told me at the diner that David was overjoyed when he found out you were pregnant. ‘Pure joy,’ you said. ‘No one had ever been that happy about anything you’d brought to their life.’” I kept my voice low, conscious of Leo nearby.
“Now you’re telling me he never showed Leo affection? Which is it, Jenna?”
She had the grace to look uncomfortable. “He was excited about the pregnancy. The idea of being a father. But when Leo actually arrived…” She glanced at her son, her voice dropping. “David was always at work. ‘Building our future,’ he’d say. But he missed first words, first steps, bedtimes.”
“That’s not what you said before,” I pointed out. “You made it sound like David gave you this perfect life. Now suddenly he was a neglectful father who was never around?”
“Both can be true,” she said defensively. “He provided financially. We had a nice house, good schools lined up, security.”
I watched Leo navigate the playground with fearless confidence, and felt that protective instinct surge again. This kid deserved better.
Paternity test first. Before anything else. Arthur’s words echoed in my head. Actually, what he’d said was to tell Chloe immediately. I was doing this all backwards. But today was a day of action. Today we’d be doing the paternity test, and I’d tell Chloe what was going on.
“What do you want from me, Jenna?” I asked bluntly.
“I want what’s best for Leo. A stable home, financial security, a father who’s actually present.” She paused, her eyes never leaving my face. “I want him to have the life I can’t give him alone.”
“And what does that look like, practically?”
“Help me get back on my feet. Find us a place to live, something more permanent than motels. Let Leo get to know his father properly.” Her voice dropped to something that sounded almost vulnerable.
“I’m not asking you to choose between him and your girlfriend, Sam.
I’m asking you to make room in your life for your son. ”
I could tell that Jenna saw “the girlfriend” – another person in my life who took up space and resources.
She didn’t see Chloe. Didn’t understand that Chloe was the first person I wanted to tell when something good happened at the bar.
The one who could read my mood from across a room and know if I needed to talk or just needed her presence.