Chapter Twenty-Seven
Zeppelin
Idon’t even remember driving home. And I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting on the front porch, but Bernie calling my name pulls me from my thoughts. Dark, dark thoughts.
“Zep! Look!” Bernie calls and points at her backpack. “I’m going to my first sleepover!”
I smile. At least, I hope it’s a smile. My face is completely numb.
It’s not good enough, assuming my face even moved at all, because she looks both ways before crossing the street.
“Bernie?” Misty calls from the front porch.
The little girl doesn’t even glance at her mama as she runs up to me. “Zep? What’s wrong?”
“Bernie, what are you doing? Carly’s mom will be here any minute.”
“Zep needs a hug.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, and for a brief moment, I feel better. “Thanks, Bernie.”
A car pulls up outside of the house, and I see Carly in the backseat. Her mom gives a waving motion to Misty as she runs across the street toward us. “Baby, Carly and her mom are here. It’s time to go.”
“You don’t want to keep your friend waiting,” I say to her. “Thank you for the hug.”
“You were my friend first. Are you okay?”
The concern of an eight-year-old nearly does me in. A lump forms in my throat, and I can’t swallow it down to answer her. All I can do is nod.
“I’ll take care of him, Bernie,” Misty says and sits next to me. “Promise.”
“If you need me, Mom knows where I am,” she says and kisses my cheek.
I manage to get out, “Thanks, kiddo,” somehow.
Hugging her mom, she says she loves her and rushes to the waiting car. Carly steps out to take her bag.
“My friend was sad, but Mom said she’ll take care of him.”
“I think it’s safe to say she loves you,” Misty says and bumps my shoulder as we watch them leave, Bernie waving to us from the backseat. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“My house. You look like you need alcohol, but that’s about all you have in your place. If we’re going to dive in like that, I need food. Which I have. Come on, big guy.”
I shouldn’t take her outstretched hand because she doesn’t deserve this, but I can’t deny my desire for comfort from her. Just being near her eases the chaos in my head.
“Okay.”
“Talk to me. What’s going on?”
How do I tell her this? I can’t accept it myself as it is. Saying it out loud makes it real. But it’s real regardless of whether I say it or not, right?
We walk into her house, and she looks at me with so much concern that I just want to bury myself inside her and forget all about this. Fuck her until her moans distract me from the horrible truth that is my life.
“Zep, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“My mom didn’t have an affair with Butch.”
Misty smiles and leads me to the stool at the kitchen island. “That’s good, right? That jerk isn’t your dad?”
“He’s my dad.”
It takes a moment, but she gasps and stares into my eyes. “No!”
“I’m the product of rape.”
Reaching up to the top cabinet, her shirt rides up to expose a strip of skin on her belly. I focus on it, hoping it’ll numb the pain just a fraction, but it does nothing.
She sets a bottle of whiskey on the counter. “Fuck food. Let’s get drunk.”
“Why’d she lie?”
Leaning on the counter, she frowns. “Because you would’ve felt like you do now back then. She wanted to protect you.”
“How is she protecting me? Shouldn’t I deserve to know how I got here?”
“Baby, that’s like asking my parents what position I was conceived in. Only a million times worse.”
“Do you lie to Bernie?”
“All the time.”
“Really?”
Pouring two glasses, she sighs. “I lie about Bernie’s dad. At the end of the day, if lying to my daughter keeps her from being hurt, I’ll do it.”
“You don’t think she deserves to know the truth?”
She hands me one while twisting the other. “No, I don’t. What good will it do to tell my daughter that her father didn’t want us and walked away when I was pregnant because I refused to abort her after getting her diagnosis?”
The glass freezes midair as I digest what she just said. “What?”
Her eyes stare at the counter. “Ben was all in to raise her with me until we got her diagnosis at one of the prenatal appointments. We were given the option to abort, and he wanted to. I refused, and he disappeared. Washed his hands of us and hasn’t even met her. As far as I’m aware, anyway.”
I wanted to hurt him before because of his choices, but I want to kill him now. “Misty, I’m sorry.”
“Look, they don’t give you a handbook on the way out of the hospital to help you figure out how to handle the tough situations. You figure it out as you go and pray you’re not making a terrible mistake.”
“You wouldn’t have told me if you were Mama?”
She reaches out and takes my free hand, interlocking our fingers. “No, I wouldn’t. For the same reason I never plan to tell Bernie the truth about Ben. You’re questioning your entire life right now, and who wants to put that on a kid? Especially your own?”
Why didn’t Butch ever say anything? He would love to break me, and this would have broken more than just about anything else in this world. To know I’m only here because of something horrifically violent and traumatizing happening to Mama kills me.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be here. What good—”
“Stop that right now.”
“Stop what?”
Misty waits for me to look at her, and she levels me with a glare. Standard look of mothers, I’m finding. “You’re here for a reason, and the way you were conceived doesn’t change that. You are important, and you are amazing.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Bernie adores you, which should tell you something. I honestly don’t know if she’d be nearly as well-adjusted as she is here if it wasn’t for you. You’re her friend, and you matter. To her and to me.”
It’s hard to disagree when she wears the Mom-face. The stern, don’t mess with me, boy face. “I still think she should have told me.”
“Look, it’s not black and white when it comes to parenting. It’s fucking hard sometimes. And sometimes, like the situation you’re in right now, it’s fucking impossible. Your mom did what she thought was right for you.”
“Yeah,” I say, tossing back the whiskey. “I suppose.”
Releasing my hand, she walks around the counter and turns me on the stool to face her, my legs on either side of her as she cups my face. “Look at me.”
I do, and I see her bright blue eyes shining at me. “Yeah?”
“You are here for a reason. I know it’s hard for you to accept because of how you’ve been treated by others in the past, but you are worthy of good things in this life. Friends, family, and love. Who cares how you got here? What matters is that you’re here.”
“How can I just ignore—”
“Does your mom look at you any differently than other moms look at their kids? Does she look at you and relive the trauma? Have you ever gotten that indication from her?”
Thinking back, I can’t think of a single moment. “Not that I know of.”
“There is always a silver lining to every bad situation. You are that silver lining, Zeppelin Molloy.”
“What good am I?”
Misty runs her fingers through my hair and smiles. “You’re good at so many things. Sexual things aside, you’re caring. You’re a good friend. Cat dad who kept a cat who hates him when he could have tossed him out or given him away. You have a club who would die for you and you them.”
“I do have a traitorous cat.”
Her hands drop to take mine, and she smiles at me. “I’m pretty sure Bernie and I were missing you before we even met you. If you were never here, I think we’d be missing you forever.”
If there’s anything that can make me feel better, make me feel like I’m worth something, it’s that. “Thank you, Misty.”
“More alcohol?”
The last thing I want is not remembering tonight. It feels important. “No, I don’t think so.”
“What do you need, Zep?”
“Can we just… talk? Maybe fall asleep together?”
She places a hand on my cheek, and I lean into it. “Whatever you need, baby.”
I pull her to me, and I burrow my face in her neck. Breathing in her scent calms me. Two minutes ago, I wished I was never born to take away Mama’s pain, and then Misty makes me fucking glad I was with only a few words.
“I should go home and shower. I planned to do that before I came over here tonight.”
“Take a bath with me,” she says. “I’ll wash your hair and take care of you.”
Pulling back, I gaze into her eyes. “You will?”
“You tell me that I need to lower the fence around my heart, and I have. Now, I need you to stop thinking you’re not worth taking care of. Tonight, it’s not about sex. It’s not about me. Tonight, it’s just about you.”
I smirk. “But I like the sex. And I like making things about you.”
Her lips gently graze mine. “If that’s what you need, you can have it. But I want to make sure you see how nice it is to have someone care about you, Zep. In the ways that matter outside of the bedroom.”
Misty’s what I’ve needed for years. Now that I have her, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her.