Chapter 18 #2
I loved the guy, but we’d never been close.
He’d mostly stuck with Josh growing up, while Nate and I had always been buddies.
Like us, there were four of them, and our parents discovered early on that the easiest way to deal with all of us was to put us together and send us off into the woods to entertain ourselves.
“You need to get serious.”
“I am extremely serious,” I said, that anger winding its way to my chest. “I’m serious about being Vincent’s father.”
“Of course you are.” He dragged a hand down his face. “But you can’t just ignore the legal side of this.”
“Why not?” I loved to ignore unpleasant things, I’d gotten pretty damn good at it over the years.
He frowned, his brows pulled low. “Because this could go very badly for you. And there’s a lot at stake.”
I wished I hadn’t left my beer at the bar. Maybe the cool ale would calm the rage rising up inside me. Of course there was a lot at stake. Vincent was a human being, a child who needed love and care and braces and summer camp. The responsibility was enormous; I didn’t need to be reminded of that.
“Legally and financially,” he said.
“I’ll do whatever is right for Vincent.”
Gabe buried his face in his hands. “Okay, no. Don’t say that.”
I bristled. “Why not? It’s the truth.”
“Because we need to be strategic.”
“I’m not going to battle against Evie.” My gut sank at just the thought. “She’s the mother of my child. We get along, we coparent.”
I took a step back, not trusting myself not to take a swing at him. I never got mad, and I certainly never yelled, but my desire to defend Evie and Vincent was stronger than my desire to people please.
“Coparent?” he laughed. “You sleep in the backyard like a dog, Jas. You have no set visitation or custody schedule. You’ve never even taken the kid to the farm.”
“Because all the baby stuff is at her house, and she’s nursing.”
“Dude.” He huffed. “I love you. We’re family. And I’m impressed with how much you’ve grown these last few months. Your love for this child; we all see it and we all respect it. You’re becoming more and more like your dad every day.”
I let out the air I was holding in my lungs. Because damn, that was not what I was expecting.
“But,” he hedged, “you can’t just close your eyes and ignore the hard stuff. The complications. The challenges. This…” Lips pressed together, he exhaled. “This situation. Is not in your favor. Have your siblings even met the baby?”
No. Because I’d kept my distance. I’d been respectful, letting Evie make all the decisions. I’d put myself in a position to support her. It felt like the right decision.
My entire being deflated. “So what do you propose I do?”
“Get a paternity test. Then we kindly and civilly negotiate a custody agreement and parenting plan.” He straightened a little, the professional in him returning. “Child support, college planning. All the things Vincent needs to thrive. Brian has everything ready to go.”
I bobbed my head, trying to reconcile all of this. The thought of bringing in lawyers and paperwork made me feel sick. Evie and I got along, we had fun. I loved being close by. She didn’t treat me like a dog; she was navigating a tough situation the best she could. Just like I was.
We’d been caught by surprise, and we’d done our best.
“Please just let us draw up papers. A petition, the basics. You have rights. You have assets. I love you, and I just want to protect you and Vincent.”
Hands on my hips, I dipped my chin. Maybe he was right. Gabe and Brian were a hell of a lot smarter than I was, and I trusted them. At some point, Evie and I would have to make choices.
The door to the taproom opened, and Nate stepped in. “The IPA’s already kicked. I blame the mafia ladies. They’re thirsty tonight.” Without slowing, he skirted around us and got to work changing the keg. “Gabe, you should get out there. Nolan just walked in.”
Back out in the bar, we found Nolan standing under the twinkle lights, his uniform crisp and his eyes rimmed with fatigue. If Gabe looked tired, Nolan looked as if rest had filed a restraining order against him.
As he walked through the tasting room toward us, the cheers and the clinking of glassware quieted, folks pivoting and whispering at his presence.
Gabe held out a hand. “Evening, Nolan.”
Nate appeared a moment later with a glass of water with a lemon slice, Nolan’s usual order when on duty.
With a nod, Nolan took the water and scanned the room. He only stopped when he landed on the members of the Maple Street Mafia, who were drinking and carousing without a care in the world.
Sally thrust her hand into the air, causing her drink to slosh over the tasting glass. “This one tastes like a lemon got into a fistfight with a pine cone.”
“I enjoy the aftertaste of regret,” Marigold added. “Reminds me of my first husband.”
Nolan headed their way, but not without encountering several people peppering him with questions.
“Is it true about the kayakers?”
“I heard it’s a government conspiracy.”
Donny Sullivan, unsurprisingly inebriated, stumbled up to the chief. “Any news, or are you just here to chauffer the bingo bus?” he slurred.
When Nolan’s jaw ticked in response, I stepped in, putting my body between them. “Let’s get you a water, Don.” With a hand on his shoulder, I guided him back. Then, using my calm firefighter voice, I said, “He’s working, you’re drinking. Give the man some space.”
Don scoffed. “Who asked you, Maplewood hero?”
The urge to throw him over the bar hit me hard, but that would solve nothing, and this town had enough problems already.
“No one asked me,” I said, keeping my tone even.
“I’m volunteering. Now sit down, drink a glass of water, and call for a ride home.
” I steered him toward the bar, where Nate gave me a nod of gratitude.
“Evening ladies,” Nolan said to the table of chattering senior citizens. “Nana.” He eyed the stack of small glasses in front of Olive. “How many flights did you order?”
“A girl’s gotta stay hydrated, sweetie.”
“That’s IPA, not Fiji Water, Nana.”
Her friends burst into laughter.
Olive, on the other hand, gave him a bored look. “Arrest me, then, grandson.”
“Public intoxication statutes are not suggestions,” Nolan said to the assembled ladies. “Now who needs a ride home?”
Suddenly sheepish, they peered around at one another.
“Okay, I guess all of you, then.”
“We’re having fun,” Olive said, picking up her purse. “And you’re ruining it.”
Nolan crossed his arms and looked down at his beloved nana, who couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred pounds soaking wet.
“Olive Foster, if you don’t hand me your tiny glass and let me escort you and your friends to my car, I will book you for drunk and disorderly.
And if you even think about using the crochet hook in your purse, I’ll slap on a weapons charge. ”
With a glare, she gathered her things, and slowly, the ladies filed out. “Fine.” She patted Nolan’s bearded cheek as she passed him. “But I get shotgun. And no pot roast for you tomorrow.”
It was not the first time he’d driven his grandmother home after a wild night. Though this might have been the first time the entire town was here gossiping and slinging insults at him while he did it.
“Solve the murder,” a man yelled from the crowd.
“Yeah,” another agreed. “Stop babysitting and do your damn job.”
I left my glass on the bar and headed out after Nolan. I’d had enough of the mayhem for one night.
“Jasper,” Opal called before I stepped outside.
I turned, finding her scurrying over with two to-go boxes in her hands.
“One for Evie, because I like her more than you.”
Smirking, I took the offerings.
“And the other is for Nolan. I’m worried he’s not eating.”
Outside, the ladies were now needling Nolan because his police car was too clean.
With a shake of my head, I strode over and gave him one of the to-go boxes.
Then I headed for my car. Halfway there, my phone vibrated in my pocket, and when I pulled it out and found a text from Evie, my heart swelled.
Evie:
Vincent hiccuped himself to sleep. The house is so quiet.
Jasper:
I’m on my way. Opal gave me a lobster roll for you.
Evie:
Yummy.
Jasper:
Save me a slice of quiet. I could use it.
I started my car, and for a moment, I sat in the lot, letting my mind wander. Imagining opening Evie’s door without knocking and rushing in to give her a kiss.
If only. In reality, I’d politely knock, hand her the to-go box, ask to use the bathroom to brush my teeth, and then head back out to my tent.
I needed to knock.
I needed to wait.
Because we were making progress, and I would earn every step.