19. Coraline
19
Coraline
It’s official—I’ve just had one of the worst days ever. I haven’t had a day this bad since I was in nurse practitioner school, juggling a toddler, a newborn, and all the chaos that came with Nash.
I worked overtime at the clinic yesterday, then had to pick the boys up from my grandparents’ house once I was done. By the time I grabbed fast food, got them home, bathed, and tucked into bed, it was already ten o’clock.
It seems silly, but I hadn’t been on my phone at all yesterday other than to call Granna and let her know I was working over. When I finally had time to check my phone, I had four missed calls from Nash.
The first voicemail was from the nice version of Nash—the one wrapped in his fake charm he shows to everyone else. He told me how much he missed me, how beautiful I was, and how he couldn’t wait to see me and Michael. He didn’t mention Harrison at all.
But then, the voicemails started to shift—each one more bitter, more venomous than the last. He threatened to call CPS, to have my kids taken from me. He made sure I knew just how much he hated me.
The last one shattered me. He called me a terrible mother, and accused me of neglecting my kids and sleeping around with multiple men. That was the one that finally brought tears to my eyes. I wasn’t just mad at him—I was furious at myself, for not seeing through him sooner.
I was so full of hurt and anger, all I could do was lie in bed and cry. I tossed and turned all night, unable to relax. Sleep came in short, restless bursts—maybe a few hours at most.
When I finally got up this morning, I glanced at my phone and saw a text from my sister, Gemma. She asked if the boys wanted to come over and stay the night.
She mentioned that the boys could play with her dog, Goose. As soon as I told them, they were sold.
Goose is like a giant, golden teddy bear, and he absolutely soaks up all the attention Harrison and Michael give him.
Honestly, I think a sleepover is a perfect idea. Right now, I’m not in the best headspace to give my kids the best version of me. And as much as I hate admitting that, it’s true. You can’t pour from an empty cup—and mine is just about empty.
I’m twenty-five years old, a full time nurse practitioner and a single mom with two boys under the age of ten. Why do I constantly feel like I'm not doing enough? Like I'm not good enough?
I just can’t shake this overwhelming pressure to pull myself together. It’s like a knot in my chest that won’t come loose. So here I am, sitting on the edge of the porch with my head in my hands, listening to the quiet hum of the evening. Everything feels still around me, but inside, it’s chaos.
A thought crosses my mind that maybe I should be praying about my situation like I used to do. My prayer quilt is inside of the house. I could get up and go get it.
I’m just so aggravated right now, I push the thought aside. I don’t have the emotional energy for that right now.
I’m lost in my thoughts when a faint rustling sound cuts through the stillness.
Out here, this close to the campground, you never really know what you’re going to see. We get all kinds of wildlife—deer, coyotes, even the occasional bear. I’ve always been afraid of them.
The rustling sound gets closer and my head jerks up instinctively.
Jesse Cooper is walking onto the property, heading straight toward me. My stomach drops. He must have the stealth of a cat because I didn’t notice him until he was practically on top of me.
If this was a scary movie, I’d already be dead.
I roll my eyes. Why can’t he just stay away? With the kind of day I’ve had, I think I would’ve preferred the bear. I am not in the mood for this tonight.
"Can I help you?" I huff, while crossing my arms tightly over my chest. I don’t know why he insists on showing up at the most inconvenient times. Does he not get it?
His brow furrows, and his eyes narrow slightly. "Cora, will you hear me out? Then, I swear, I’ll leave you alone for good this time." He leans against the tree in my backyard, folding his muscular arms across his chest. His posture is calm, but there's an edge to his voice that makes my pulse quicken. "We're going to be around each other in this town, whether you like it or not. We might as well talk through whatever's bothering you."
He's dressed in typical Jesse attire—jeans, work boots, and a form-fitted t-shirt that hugs his muscles in all the right ways. How can I be so mad at a man and still notice how good he looks?
I hate how effortlessly he carries his confidence, it's the kind that always made me second-guess my own feelings. It's not fair. I'm supposed to be angry, but all I can do is watch him, unable to tear my gaze away.
“Jesse, how did you even get here?” I throw my hands up in the air.
“What did I do to make you hate me so much? What grudge are you still holding on to?” He pleads. "If you're mad at me for buying your groceries, I do apologize for not getting your consent first. I genuinely do things like this to help lift people's spirits. Not because I thought you didn't have any money. I would never do anything to embarrass you."
“You are exhausting,” I say while I close my eyes and shake my head. “It's not that."
"Then what is it?" He asks.
The last thing I want to do right now is engage with him, but it’s too late to back down. Maybe I'll feel better if i get this off of my chest.
"When you blocked me, I understood. We were young and foolish, and I had just broken your heart. But when I told your mom about Harrison, and she flat-out told me I was lying, I realized something. I thought the Jesse I once loved would want to step up and be there, to be a father. When you didn’t, it crushed me." I bite my lip, suddenly feeling exposed, vulnerable. "I didn’t want to raise him without you, Jesse. But I couldn’t make you care."
"Wait," he interrupted, his voice a mix of confusion and disbelief. "A what?"
I glare at him, placing my hands on my hips. "Really, Jess?"
“Coraline, I’m dead serious. What are you trying to say?”
“You don’t know?” I ask flatly, my voice heavy with disbelief.
“Know what, Coraline?” His confusion deepens, and I can see the tension building in his expression.
The words hang in the air like a heavy fog, and I can feel the weight of them between us. "You're Harrison's father. I tried to tell you, but you refused to speak to me. After your mom threatened me, I mailed you a letter explaining everything. When you never replied, I took that as my answer."
His face pales, and for a moment, he seems to freeze in place. Then, his voice cracks with a tremor, the tension between us palpable. "Does Harrison know?"
“I think he's starting to suspect,” I reply honestly. “He found an old picture of us in my room and started to ask me questions. I was always honest with him about the fact that Nash was not his real dad. He never asked about who his real dad actually is."
“My mom knows.” I see Jesse's expression shift, a mix of confusion and pain crossing his face. "And she never told me?" His voice is quiet, but there's an edge to it, like he's trying to make sense of everything.
I stand there, feeling a rush of emotions I wasn’t prepared for. All the anger I had been carrying for years, the bitterness, the resentment—it all vanished in less than a minute. I realize, with a sinking feeling, that he truly had no idea about Harrison.
“I need time to think,” he says, his voice distant, as he continues to stare off into space. “Can I contact you once I’ve had time to process everything?”
I just nod, not trusting my voice right now.
I take his phone in my hand and type in my number.
“If you’ll excuse me Cora, I have a place I need to go.” He turns around and starts speed walking towards the house on the lake.
"Jesse! Wait up!" I reply and take off after him.
Jesse doesn't stop walking, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. I catch up to him and take a breath, trying to steady myself.
“You’re in no state of mind to go anywhere right now,” I say, catching my breath. “Why don’t you come sit on my porch? I’ll get you something to drink and I’ll call Charlie or John to come and get you so you’re not alone.”
He pauses but doesn’t turn to face me. For a long moment, we both stand there, the air between us heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he exhales sharply, his hands clenching at his sides. He looks up at the sky, then back at me, his voice quiet.
“I’ll take you up on that,” he says, his words barely above a whisper. “Thanks.”
We walk up onto the porch, and Jesse takes a seat, sitting ramrod straight in one of the chairs. He places his hands on his knees, but I notice the slight tremor in them—an obvious sign that his anxiety is through the roof. His legs start bouncing rapidly, unable to keep still.
"I’ll be right back," I say, stepping off the porch and heading inside to grab him a glass of sweet tea. As soon as I’m out of earshot, I pull out my cell phone and dial Charlie's number. He answers on the second ring.
“Hello, this is Charlie.” Charlie’s voice is warm, familiar, and a little curious.
“Charlie, are you busy right now?”
“Coraline?” He says, confused.
“I wouldn’t be calling you like this if it wasn’t important. There seems to be a huge misunderstanding that I’ll let Jesse go into detail about, but basically…” I take a deep breath and exhale, trying to steady myself. “Jesse is Harrison's father. I thought he knew about it and had purposely abandoned him.”
I pause for a moment, collecting my thoughts. “He came over to my house to confront me, and it came up in the discussion. He said he has someplace he needs to be, and I don’t feel comfortable with him being alone right now or driving anywhere. I think he’s in shock.”
There’s a long silence on the line. It feels like forever, but in reality, it's probably just a few seconds.
“I was on my way to my parents' house to pick up Jenny,” Charlie finally says, his tone steady but with a hint of concern. “I’ll turn around and head your way now.”
“Thank you, Charlie.” I exhale a sigh of relief. “Do you know where my house is?”
“Of course I do. It’s right beside his.” Charlie hangs up, and my heart skips a beat.
The beautiful house I stare at every day is his.