10. Noa
ten
Three Months Later
Today my life changes forever.
Part of me is relieved. The heavy weight I’ve been carrying might finally feel bearable.
Mostly, I’m terrified of losing my baby.
The tide leaves ribbons of kelp tangled around driftwood. Smooth stones gleam where the water has washed over them all morning.
Levi wanders the shoreline, stopping every few steps to inspect another treasure. He rubs the sand from a pebble with his thumb, holds it up to the light, then slips it into his pocket with quiet satisfaction. The next one earns a quick shake of his head before he flings it back toward the water.
His left pocket hangs almost to his knee.
“Wock.” He stretches his arm behind him without turning around.
I can’t hide my smile. My boy has my whole heart. “I see it.”
“Mine.” He pats his bulging pocket then sets off in search of another prize, rubber boots sinking into the damp sand with determined little stomps.
We’ve walked this stretch of Alki beach often enough I could probably do it blindfolded. Levi heads for the same driftwood log. Stomps in the same shallow pools. Fills the same pockets until his coat lists to one side and I end up carrying half his collection home.
Movement catches my eye near the parking lot. A black SUV pulls into a space beside the Pepperdock restaurant.
Lake climbs out alone. No rock star entourage hovering nearby to rescue him from whatever happens next.
He closes the door and stands stoically. The distance between us couldn’t be more than forty yards. His eyes gravitate to Levi almost immediately.
A myriad of emotions flutter across his expression before he’s able to take a deep breath and steady himself.
We’ve gone through weeks of therapy. Engaged in careful conversations. All leading to this moment where he’s introduced to his son.
The magical, perfect Levi.
Who has no idea he’s about to meet his dad.
My boy crouches near the tide line, digs another rock from the sand, frowns at it, then drops it into his pocket beside the others.
Lake crosses the street and starts toward us.
When he’s in proximity, he shoves his hands into the front pouch of a charcoal hoodie.
He looks less like the man who sells out venues and more like someone headed out for coffee on a weekday morning.
Smooth cocoa skin. Dark jeans. Scuffed boots.
A black knit cap pulled low over his blond curls.
“Hi.” His smile flickers into place, then disappears almost as quickly.
“Hi.” I flick my eyes to Levi to make sure he doesn’t wander off. “You made it.”
“Barely.” His honesty catches me off guard.
For a second, neither of us speaks. The wind lifts a strand of my hair across my face. Somewhere behind us a ferry sounds its horn.
Lake rubs both hands down the front of his jeans. Once. Twice. Halfway through the third pass, he catches himself and lets his arms fall.
I recognize this habit from therapy. Whenever the conversation drifted someplace painful, he’d smooth imaginary wrinkles from his jeans until our reunification therapist, Hannah, asked him what he was trying so hard to hold together.
I’ll give him credit. He told me everything and his history is heartbreaking, Lake’s overcome so much to be the man he is today. I guess we both have, though I haven’t had the stomach to tell him about my sexual history. My addiction journey is bad enough.
Levi turns toward us with another stone clutched in his fist. His gaze lands on Lake and he stares with the frank curiosity reserved for toddlers and old men.
I crouch beside him. “Bubba.” He presses against my shoulder without taking his eyes off Lake. “This is my friend Lake.”
Lake is careful not to reach out or make any grand gesture. Gives Levi space to decide what happens next.
One little finger points. “Wake?”
Lake drops to one knee, leaving plenty of beach between them. “Hi, Levi.”
Levi watches him for another moment, then looks up at me.
I smile. “Lake’s going to spend some time with us today.”
Levi accepts the answer the same way he accepts most things I tell him. If I say it’s part of his day, it is.
He turns back to the sand, takes a few determined steps, then points. “Wock.”
“Nice.” Lake follows his finger. “You found a pretty one.”
Levi squats, brushes the sand from it with his thumb, and studies it from every angle. Apparently satisfied, he picks it up and toddles over. “Wook.”
Lake opens his hand. Levi drops the pebble into his palm.
“Thanks, buddy.”
Levi nods once, his business concluded.
“Mama.” He points across the street. “Choc Choc?”
I laugh. “Right on schedule.”
Every trip to Alki ends the same way. Beach first. Hot chocolate after. Levi has no interest in changing the order.
“Let’s go.” I take his hand.
His fingers disappear inside mine while we wait at the crosswalk and cross when the coast is clear.
Lake walks by my other side, close enough to feel included, far enough to leave Levi’s little world undisturbed, though I do catch him looking down at the hand wrapped around my finger before his eyes drift back to Levi.
The café greets us with warm air scented with espresso, cinnamon, and chocolate.
“The usual?” the barista asks with a smile.
Levi points toward the pastry case. “Coo-kie.”
“You already had breakfast.” I wag my finger.
“Coo-kie.” Levi stomps his tiny foot.
Lake glances at me. “Persistent.”
“Stubborn.” I pay for our drinks without giving in to the will of my toddler.
“I wonder where he gets it,” Lake mutters.
I raise an eyebrow.
A few minutes later, Lake collects all of our drinks and we settle into a booth by the window. Levi climbs in beside me, pressing against my side while I peel back the lid and stir the chocolate to cool it.
He reaches for the mug.
“What do we do first?” I catch his wrist.
He puffs out his cheeks. “Bwow.”
“Good job.”
He blows with complete concentration before taking his first careful sip. “Mmmm.”
“Worth the wait?”
His head bobs hard enough to leave whipped cream on the end of his nose. I wipe it away with my thumb. He doesn’t seem to notice.
Across the table, Lake wraps both hands around his coffee, watching our exchange. He hasn’t taken a sip. He’s not staring.
More like absorbing.
The way Levi curls over his mug with complete concentration. How he swings one boot beneath the bench while the other stays hooked around the table leg. The tiny crease between his eyebrows every time he decides whether another sip is worth the risk of a hot tongue.
Levi doesn’t notice. He’s busy with whipped cream and chocolate and watching a dog walker out the window. When they disappear around the corner, his eyes wander across the table and on Lake for a second before flicking away shyly.
A minute passes. Levi chances another glance. This one lingers.
Lake doesn’t move. Not even a smile. He simply lets his son look at him.
I recognize the restraint. It doesn’t come naturally.
For weeks I watched him fight every instinct in Dr. Meyers’ office.
He wanted instant gratification. Immediate access.
Instead, he listened. Asked questions. Filled page after page in a notebook with bedtime routines, favorite foods, sleep schedules, little rituals most parents figure out as they go.
Now he’s doing the hardest part.
Nothing.
Levi rests his cheek against my arm while he drinks.
Across the table, Lake finally remembers the coffee cooling in front of him. He lifts the cup, takes a sip and sets it back down.
His eyes drift to Levi again and he allows himself to smile.
I nearly choke on my mocha, the resemblance catches me so off guard. Their matching curls, eyes, and dimples are obvious.
But the pause.
They both stop and study the world before deciding what to do with it. With a slight tilt of their heads. A quiet certainty once they’ve made up their minds.
I’ve spent nineteen months finding superficial pieces of Lake in my son. Watching them sit across from each other, I realize I hadn’t dug deeper.
For one reckless moment, I allow myself to remember the man across from me instead of the father. The warmth of his hands on my body. His tongue buried in my pussy. Riding his cock all night long.
No.
I pull my attention back to Levi.
I’m not allowing me to think of Lake this way. Not now. Not ever.
My life has changed. I’m not done healing.
Levi finishes his hot chocolate, sighs with complete satisfaction, and settles against my side. Across the table, Lake watches him with the same quiet expression he wore on the beach.
My son deserves to know his father.
I won’t do anything to mess it up.