Chapter 9 Alex
ALEX
After I’d dropped Gillian off at her house, I’d driven home still reeling from the confrontation with Bella. My stomach in knots, I came into the kitchen to find Peter at the island eating a snack.
He looked up, giving me one of his infectious smiles. “Hey, Dad. How’d it go?”
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “It was okay. Is Bella back yet?”
“No, but her friend’s mom said she’d bring her back by ten, so she should be here any minute. Why do you ask?”
I sighed as I sank onto one of the island stools. “I ran into her and her friends at the bookstore. Gillian and I were exploring downtown and we decided to pop in so she could show me her friend’s books. Gillian and I were … found in a compromising position. In the romance section.”
“How compromising?” Peter asked, pushing the bowl of potato chips toward me.
“Kissing.”
“And she freaked out.” Peter dropped his head into his hands. “And made a huge scene.”
“That’s right. She said I was selfish and disloyal to Mom. Accused me of carrying a torch for Gillian all these years and not loving your mother.”
Peter grimaced. “Sorry, Dad. That’s rough.”
“After she yelled at me, she stormed out with her friends.”
“You didn’t follow?”
I shook my head. “Knowing Bella, she needed some time to cool off before I confronted her. And frankly, I didn’t know what to say. Still don’t.”
Peter looked down at the countertop. “How embarrassing. Having her go off like that in front of Gillian.”
“It was. And now Gillian’s spooked. She’s not sure she wants to get in the middle of all this drama.”
“I can’t blame her for that,” Peter said. “Bella’s not making this easy.”
“No, and I’m not at all sure how to handle her.”
“Bella just misses Mom and the way our life used to be. I’m sure she didn’t mean any of the things she said.” Peter looked over at me. “But Dad, is this thing with Gillian for real? Like serious?”
“It’s early days still, but my instincts are telling me yes. There’s just something about her. About the two of us together that feels right.”
Peter nodded, splaying his hands on his knees. “Even for me, knowing that you should move forward and deserve to be happy with someone new, it’s hard to hear you talk about anyone but Mom like that.”
“I understand.”
“And it makes it worse knowing that you loved Gillian before you loved Mom.”
“That’s true. But it doesn’t negate how much I loved your mom.”
Peter moved a potato chip crumb around in a circle on the counter. “I get it. I do. But I can also understand why Bella’s hurt.”
“I can too. I’m struggling with how much to let her dictate what happens in my love life,” I said.
“You shouldn’t let her ruin this for you. Because it’s not really about me or Bella. If Gillian makes you happy, then you have to go for it. Even if Bella acts awful.”
“She can act really, really awful.” I hesitated, wondering if I should mention Grace’s obvious enthusiasm about her mother meeting someone. The way Grace had showed me parts of their home and life had touched me deeply. She wanted a family. A father.
Peter shifted in his chair, his jaw tightening like he was debating something. Finally, he said, “There’s something I probably should tell you. I didn’t want to at first because I didn’t want to make you upset … but it’s been bothering me.”
I braced myself. “What is it?”
“I caught Bella on the computer last week, looking up … our biological dad. She had a couple tabs open with search results and some random Facebook pages. She slammed the laptop shut when I came in.”
My stomach dropped. “Did she find anything?”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t know. She just got mad when I asked and told me to mind my own business.” He hesitated. “I think she’s questioning everything. Wondering where she belongs. Who she belongs to.”
I leaned back, guilt and sorrow tightening in my chest. “She belongs with us.”
“I think she knows that, deep down,” Peter said gently. “Still, maybe what she really needs is you reassuring her that she still comes first. Nothing changes the fact that you’re her dad.”
“I’m doing my best, but she’s so hard to talk to these days,” I said.
“What do you know about him? Our real dad?”
I dragged a hand down my face. “Not much. Your mom hadn’t seen him for several years by the time I met you guys.”
Peter’s brow furrowed. “Did she ever talk about him?”
“Sometimes. She told me he was trouble from the start—always hustling, always looking for the next easy way out. He drank too much, gambled too much, never kept a job. And when she told him she was pregnant with Bella …” I clenched my jaw, the memory of Mattie’s tears as fresh as if it were yesterday.
“He didn’t just walk away. He told her he didn’t believe Bella was even his. Said she was trying to trap him.”
Peter’s eyes widened. “He said that?”
“He did. And it broke your mother’s heart. Because she’d loved him. Wanted to believe the good in him. But instead of stepping up, he turned cruel. Denying Bella was easier than taking responsibility.”
“What about me? Did he believe I was his?” Peter asked.
“He didn’t really think Bella wasn’t his. It was just an excuse to leave. As far as you go—he never denied you were his, but, from what your mom said, he never spent much time with you. He wasn’t exactly a doting father.”
“I don’t remember him. Not really.”
“You were so young, and your mom sheltered you from all of it. She was often worried he’d show up and ask for money.
Fortunately, he never did. Bella’s at an age where the fantasy of him might look better than the reality.
And I can’t stop her from being curious about him.
It’s natural for her to want to know her biological family. ”
Peter looked down at the counter, his hands tightening into fists. “Bella doesn’t know what kind of man he really was. You have to tell her the truth.”
“She may not believe me,” I said. “But we shouldn’t worry too much. He’s not the type who wants to be found. If he’s even alive. He ran with some dangerous people.”
Worry clouded Peter’s expression. “But what if she actually does get in contact with him? What if he comes around, asking for money? Or wants to take Bella and me? He can’t legally take us, can he?”
I hesitated, unsure how to answer truthfully so that Peter wouldn’t worry.
As much as I’d wanted to adopt them legally, Darren had disappeared.
We’d not been able to find him, even after hiring private detectives.
Thus, he never signed over his parental rights so that I could adopt them.
Bella digging things up could bring it all back to the surface.
Fear made my throat clench. What if he did have some kind of legal hold on them? Could he take them from me?
I forced a calm I didn’t feel. “No. He walked away a long time ago. He gave up any right to you and Bella the day he left your mom. He has no claim on you. None.”
Some of the tension drained from Peter’s shoulders, though his eyes searched mine like he wanted to believe me but wasn’t sure he should.
I reached across the counter, covering his hand with mine. “You don’t need to worry about any of this. That’s my job. Yours is to be a kid, okay? Play baseball, hang out with your friends, worry about college applications. Leave the rest to me.”
Peter let out a long breath. “Okay.” He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded anyway.
I heard the garage door opening and, seconds later, Bella appeared. She looked startled to see the two of us sitting there, but quickly masked it with hostility. “What are you doing? Waiting up for me? Like I’m a criminal or something?”
Every instinct in me cautioned me to stay calm, so as not to make it worse. “I just got home myself.”
“I was waiting up for you both,” Peter said. “But only to see how your nights went.”
“Thank you for coming home before your curfew,” I said, trying to find something positive to say.
“Ten during summer vacations is so lame.” Bella dropped her bag onto the counter with a thud, seemingly deliberately close to Peter’s bowl of chips. “No one else has a curfew. Only me. Which makes me super lame, so thanks a lot.”
Beside me, Peter shifted, voice soft. “Bella, maybe chill out a little. You’re being very disrespectful.”
“Shut up, Peter! You’re such a butt-kisser.”
Peter winced but didn’t push back, just lowered his gaze to the counter.
“Bella, apologize to Peter,” I said.
“I won’t. Because I’m not sorry. You both suck.” Bella grabbed her bag and ran from the kitchen. Seconds later, I winced as her bedroom door slammed shut. With the way it was going, I’d have to replace the hinges before long.
For a second, I had an image of her at six years old, wearing her footie pajamas and insisting she sit on my lap while we watched Cinderella. She’d been adorable back then. When she’d actually liked me. Which clearly was not the case right now.
Peter let out a long breath. “She didn’t mean it. I bet she apologizes tomorrow.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to brush it off and tell myself she’d wake up tomorrow with a cooler head and apologize. Surely we could make peace? Right now, though, I couldn’t imagine how we could possibly do so.
After Peter went up to bed, I stayed in the kitchen, knowing sleep wouldn’t come. I poured a glass of wine and meant to turn on a movie, but instead I found myself in my study, laptop open, staring at the search bar.
The desk lamp threw a dim circle of light across the papers, catching the edge of a photo—Mattie’s smile, frozen in time. Typing his name felt like conjuring a ghost I’d buried long ago. My throat tightened.
Still, I typed: Darren Slater.
For a while, it was nothing but the wreckage of a wasted life—old mugshots, a DUI in Oregon, half-dead links from twenty years ago. Then one entry stopped me cold: a public-record site listing aliases.
Also known as Darren Kincaid.
A new name. A clean slate. No wonder Mattie and I never found him. I clicked.