Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
NICOLE
Atticus had told me Christian had a sitter on Tuesdays and Thursdays who took him to a small playground around the corner from Giselle’s house in Queens. He said they went religiously, even in the middle of winter. It was the only way Christian could get out all of his energy. According to him, they usually went around three PM, after Christian woke up from his nap.
It had been almost three months now since the wedding in California. Atticus and I had talked a lot over the phone, and he kept suggesting that when I was ready, I could go to that park and see his son without having to meet Giselle, if I preferred, as a way to ease myself into the situation. Meeting Giselle right away definitely wasn’t something I wanted, but thus far I hadn’t been brave enough to visit the playground, either.
I wasn’t sure what possessed me to choose this particular Tuesday in the middle of January. But I’d been at the salon when I suddenly felt the urge to get it over with—as if that’s a possibility when it comes to meeting a little human who’s also the thing I fear most in this world.
But I canceled my appointments for the rest of the day and headed to Queens.
The train ride over felt like one big blur. As I walked down the residential street, following the directions on my phone, I became more nervous with each step. I passed a café filled with people, for a moment considering whether I should just go inside, have a cup of coffee and a croissant, and forget the reason I came here. It was a bit crazy to be stalking an innocent toddler, wasn’t it? Or was I just trying to convince myself of that because I was scared?
When I arrived, there were only a few children at the playground. Two of them were older, more like ten. Then I saw one little boy running around while a woman watched.
I couldn’t be sure it was Christian until I moved a bit closer. Atticus had shown me a photo of him back in L.A. My heart clenched at the sight of the little boy with beautiful, big eyes, full lips, and thick, caramel-brown curls. His cheeks were rosy from the cold air. I’d seen photos of Atticus when he was around the same age. He’d had the same hair. This little boy was Atticus. There was no mistaking that this was his son.
After several minutes of watching him, I turned to find the woman watching me. She had obviously noticed my staring, which made me nervous. I didn’t want her to think I was a weirdo. While my original plan had been to not say anything at all, I opted to try to explain what I imagined seemed like very odd behavior.
I took a few steps toward her and fumbled with my words. “Hi. I’m—”
“I know who you are,” she interrupted.
My eyes widened. “You do?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve seen photos of you.”
“You have?” My heart raced.
“Yes.”
It took a minute for me to realize this was not the babysitter.
This was Christian’s mother.
Giselle.
The woman Atticus had slept with.
And while he’d been with several other women since, this was the one responsible for the permanent demise of our relationship.
“You’re Giselle…” I finally said.
She nodded.
Giselle was pretty, much to my dismay. Her red hair framed her heart-shaped face. She had bright blue eyes that were full of expression. She wore a black Patagonia jacket and seemed like a ghost who’d come to life. It had been my goal never to cross paths with this woman. But here she was in broad daylight. I’d never be able to go back now.
My throat felt ready to close. “I’m sorry. I thought you were the sitter.”
“She had the day off today.” Giselle smiled as she looked over at her son in the sandbox. “Did Atticus tell you to come here because he figured I wasn’t with Christian at this time?” She shook her head. “You know, I’ve told him multiple times that you’re welcome to come to the house anytime to meet my son…”
“Yes. He did mention that, but I was hesitant and thought this might be more convenient. I’m sorry if it’s awkward. I was just trying to take baby steps.” I exhaled. “And I’m sorry I didn’t know who you were. I’ve never seen photos of you.”
“What do you think?” She chuckled.
I narrowed my eyes. “You could stand to be a whole lot less attractive…”
“Well, thank you. Not bad for someone hardly getting any sleep, right?” She sighed. “I can see why he’s so obsessed with you, though. You’re drop-dead gorgeous.”
Before I could respond to that, Christian came running over, interrupting our conversation. He handed Giselle a stem of some sort that he’d picked up off the ground. In his other hand was a red lollipop.
I knelt down to be closer to Christian’s eye level, but looked up at her. “Can I?”
“Of course.” She nodded encouragingly.
“Hi,” I said, awkwardly.
The little boy waved at me then promptly ran away.
“He’s beautiful,” I told her, still kneeling.
We watched as Christian began to climb up a little blue slide.
I stood slowly. “I should’ve had the balls to come to your house or to call first for a formal introduction. I’m sorry for showing up like this.”
“Look…” she said, her expression turning serious. “I get it. You have your reasons for being apprehensive.” She kept her gaze on Christian. “The night I met Atticus, I had no idea how complicated his personal life was. I didn’t know much about him, except that he was the drummer for Delirious Jones—certainly not that he’d been married and the ink wasn’t even dry on his divorce papers. If it makes you feel any better, I barely remember that night myself. Although I remember more than he does, which is apparently nothing.” She turned to look me in the eye. “Anyway, I never thought I’d see him again. I didn’t want a child any more than he did, Nicole. I’d just come out of a breakup myself. But there’s nothing now that I would change, because Christian is the single most important thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Of course. I can only imagine how much you love him.”
“My fiancé, David, loves him, too. He’s really embraced the role of father. Christian is lucky to have two dads in his life who love him. Atticus can’t be here every day, but he does the best he can and has been very generous in his support. I couldn’t ask for anything more, given the situation.”
This knowledge settled over me. I’d really been blind when it came to everything Atticus had been through since becoming a father. Even in his absence, he’d been a major part of my world, and yet his current world was unfamiliar to me: Atticus, Giselle, and David coparenting. While I’d been wallowing in everything I’d lost, Atticus had been growing up fast, figuring out how to make this situation work for Christian. It made me incredibly proud of him.
“What made you come today of all days?” Giselle asked.
“It just felt like I’d been running away long enough. For some reason, it had to be today. I don’t really understand it.”
She nodded. “I can relate to that. Once I make up my mind that I’m gonna do something, I just want it done.” She sighed. “Well, I hope you can see there’s not anything to be afraid of.”
“Yeah. I can see that,” I murmured, turning my attention back to Christian, who was digging his hand into the pebbles that covered the playground.
“Does Atticus know you’re here?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t tell him in case I chickened out. And it was sort of a spur-of-the-moment decision. But he was the one who suggested I come see Christian first before meeting you.”
“That plan backfired.” She laughed.
“It did.” I shrugged.
“Well, I won’t say anything,” she assured me. “I’ll let you tell him.”
“I appreciate that.”
I spent the next half-hour getting to know Giselle a little while Christian played. Ironically, she used to do hair like I did, but had switched plans and decided to go to nursing school. She was halfway finished with that now. This whole afternoon in the park felt surreal, like I could’ve been dreaming it. For so long, she and Christian had been the people on this Earth I’d feared the most. Now that I’d met them, I’d faced my biggest fear. That’s not to say I didn’t still have some jealousy and bitterness. It’s hard to totally squelch old habits. But those feelings were no longer overpowering. They no longer made it impossible to open my eyes and accept the situation as it was.
“Thank you for making this much easier than it could’ve been,” I said as I stood, readying to leave.
“I don’t have time for awkward.” She laughed.
I looked down at my phone. “I’d better get back to the city.”
“Okay…well, it was nice meeting you.”
“You, too,” I said, looking over my shoulder at Christian. “Is it okay if I say goodbye to him?”
“Of course.” She nodded.
Giselle stayed behind on the bench while I walked over to where Christian was playing.
I knelt. “Bye, little guy. I know you don’t know who the heck I am, but thank you for being sweet to me today. I promise not to be afraid of you anymore.”
He stuck his sticky lollipop hand out and placed it on my mouth. He kept it there for several seconds. My heart soared and crumbled all at once.
Beautiful little Atticus.
Christian had never deserved the fear I’d projected toward him. My instant love for this tiny human only proved yet again just how much I loved his father.
***
After I returned from Queens, I decided to capitalize on my bravery and read the last of Atticus’s emails. There was only one I hadn’t opened because I knew it had been written after Christian was born.
Nicole,
I debated not writing this email. But this is my last one, because I don’t even know if you’re reading them, since you haven’t responded.
I can’t stop thinking about you tonight. I wish I could talk to you because I’m in the middle of one of the biggest moments of my life, and it doesn’t seem right that you’re not a part of it, as crazy as that might seem. This is an experience I was supposed to be having with you. But for reasons I may never truly understand, someone up there chose a different path for me.
My son was born today at 2:53 AM. MY son. I have a son. I wasn’t in the room when he came into the world. I didn’t want to be, partly because every second of this process has felt like a betrayal of you, and I’ve wanted no part of it.
But Nicole, the moment his grandmother brought him out to meet me, I looked into my son’s eyes and saw my own freaking eyes staring back at me. I realized that I owe him so much more than resenting his existence. He did nothing to deserve that. The other thing I realized is that my love for him was not only instant, it was innate. It wasn’t a choice. I just loved him from the moment I first held him. It doesn’t matter how he came to be. My son deserves my whole heart, and he has it—well, he has as much a part of it as you still do. I now realize it’s possible to give your heart equally to two people without diminishing an ounce of love for either one.
It’s my greatest wish that someday you can meet him and see what I see. That may be a pipe dream, but I’ll always hope for it.
His name is Christian Michael Marchetti. Six pounds, nine ounces. Ten fingers, ten toes. One broken dad.
Always lost without you,
Atticus