Chapter 59
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Noah
The sounds of laughter fill my ears as I exit the car at Becky’s parent’s house.
An eerie feeling of deja vue comes flooding back.
It has been almost two years since I have been here, yet somehow it still feels like yesterday.
The harshness of her parent’s hatred towards me stops me in my tracks as I come to the back gate.
The only thing separating me from the party on the other side.
A party I am not yet ready to walk into, but know I have no choice.
My meeting with Becky and Bentley the other night went according to plan. Just the three of us, I found myself trying my hardest to get along with Becky as she walked me around her place and showed me all kinds of pictures and artifacts of my son’s first year of life.
But I still felt so detached.
Even worse, the boy looked nothing like me.
He looked much more like his mother. I tried to play with him - tried to pick him up, but he just cried.
Finally, I succumbed to sitting on the couch and watching him play on the floor.
Occasionally I would pass him a toy or two while I listened to the endless chatter of Becky’s stories, but that was it.
Nothing. No feeling. No tug at my heart like I thought would be there when I first laid eyes on the boy, which only serves to make me feel like a bastard.
I tried telling myself that it was normal, that only chicks got that motherly feeling. But yet, I couldn’t help the nagging thought that I am not parent material, or some shit. That something is wrong with me because I did not get any kind of fatherly tug on my heart after spending time with him.
Jolene said it would come, but all I can hope is that it comes this afternoon at this party. Otherwise, I am scared to death of trying to find feelings I should naturally have for my own flesh and blood.
Pushing open the gate to the backyard, I come face to face with complete chaos.
A scene taken straight out of how best to spoil your child unfolds in front of me.
Bounce houses line the back fence, a clown is making balloon animals, a small petting zoo sits off to the right.
Kids are jumping in and out of a pool in the center of the yard.
A large buffet table sits to the left, and although I know Becky’s parents have more money than I could ever dream of, I can’t help but wonder why a one-year-old needs this at his birthday party.
“There you are,” Becky’s annoying voice comes closer. She struts up to my side and slings her arm through mine. I pull away and she lets me go briefly.
Grabbing me back, she tugs me forward into the party.
My feet get heavy the further I walk. I almost come to a complete stop when I see her father look up at me across the way.
I never said anything to Harold before leaving town.
I never showed up, never called, and never talked to his daughter again.
After all that has happened between now and then, I suddenly feel incredibly small the shorter the distance becomes between us.
“Daddy, you remember Noah, don’t you?” Becky says when we reach her father.
He doesn’t say a word. Just sticks out his big chest, and puffs on his cigar. I am immediately reminded why I hate this family and everyone in it, except my son - wherever he is. I scan the party trying to make out a glimpse of him, but fail and look back at the man standing in front of me.
“Good of you to come, Noah,” Harold says. “About time you did the honorable thing. But I guess you can’t expect much with the last name like Stewart, can you?”
I stand a little taller and prepare to meet his disapproval head-on. “Nice to see you again, Harold. Excuse me please, I’m looking for my son.”
As I turn to leave, Becky’s dad releases a disapproving snort.
I try and let it roll off my back. Becky grabs my arm again as she waves across the party to some girl I don’t even know.
Pulling me along with her, she starts the process of greeting everyone we pass and telling them who I am.
Her son’s father, she says, who made it home in time for his birthday.
Made it home from where? I don’t know. It’s surely one of her numerous lies, and so I don’t even bother to figure it out.
“Where is Bentley?” I finally ask after I have been ushered past the sixth or seventh person.
“Oh, momma just put him down for his nap,” she says as she waves her hand like a pageant queen to someone off in the distance. “You’ll see him soon enough. But, now, I want you to follow me. We have some people to meet. Time to get you better acquainted with your new role as Bentley’s father.”
“I’m in his life, Becky,” I correct her. “Not yours.”
She rolls her eyes and continues dragging me forward and into a past I never thought I’d see again.
I’d give anything not to be in my own shoes right now.
I’d even go back to Los Angeles and love it.
I’d bask in all its chaotic glory if it meant not having to be with Becky and schmoozing our way across her parent’s backyard and back into a life I’m only now realizing I felt so free getting out of the first time.
* * *
After almost an hour and a half, my brain is swimming from all the hands I have shaken and all the new names I was told are required to be remembered.
Bentley had been brought back out from his nap about thirty minutes ago, and for a brief moment, I held him and felt a small connection that was missing the other night.
As he played in my arms, it almost felt natural to hold him. To be with him and be a father.
Leaning against a wall on the back patio, I look out across the party and watch people mingling and carrying on, and wish I could be anywhere else in the world right now but here.
Pushing off the wall, I make my way into the house for a drink.
If I am going to be around this party much longer, a beer will have to see me through.
Pushing through a few people who are exiting back into the party, I come into an empty kitchen and open the fridge.
Grabbing a dark IPA, I pop the top, take a drink and turn to leave when I overhear a conversation that makes me stop.
“Eddie, stop! You’re making a mess of me and I have to go back out to that party.” Becky’s hushed voice comes from the back room. I roll my eyes and turn to leave seeing she is up to her old tricks.
“Why’d you invite country boy?” Eddie says through rushed breaths. His comment makes me still, so I stop and listen.
“Eddie,” Becky drawls, “I had to. You know that. Especially after the test earlier this week.”
“It’s a good thing you got your father to botch that paternity test, baby. Now we can go back to the way it was before.”
The beer slips out of my hands and crashes to the floor shattering instantly.
Fuck me, I should have known. Becky comes around the corner straightening and smoothing down her dress.
She looks to the floor in front of me briefly, and then meets my eye.
A look of recognition flashes across her face.
Before she has a chance to say a word, I turn and walk through the back door towards my car.
I just exit the gate when she catches up with me.
“Noah, wait! Where are you going?” She screams at me across the yard as she charges towards me.
I turn around and almost bump straight into her. Breathing heavily, I stare her in the eyes and wait for any glimmer of apology. It never comes.
“I should have known, Becky. You used me! You used me as a pawn because you couldn’t get Eddie to do as you like. What? Did I show back up in town and you both conspired this little plan to ruin my life a second time so you could have it all your way?”
“What are you talking about?” She tries to fake innocence.
“You know exactly what I am talking about. Say it! I want to hear you say it! The baby is not mine!”
“Noah,” she tries to settle me. “You heard the doctor. You saw the results. The baby is yours. You have a responsibility, and...”
“Like hell I do!” I yell. “I heard Eddie, Becky. I heard you two. Your dad paid to set me up. Paid to give you what you wanted. A father for your child because Eddie will never give that to you. Damn it, Becky. That is low - even for you!”
Her eyes well over with tears, and although it is strange to see any kind of emotion coming from such a cold woman, I continue. “Just tell me one thing. Why me? You could have set up any guy, any loser that you wanted. Why’d you pick me?”
A few tears fall over and roll down her cheeks. At first, I am afraid she won’t answer. That she will keep up this facade and never admit the horrible truth I just overheard. But I keep firm. I don’t break, and slowly I see her mask fall.
“Because,” she whispers. “I knew you’d always be there. I knew if the baby was yours, you’d never leave. You’d always stay.”
“Say it, Becky!” I demand. “I want to hear you say it.”
She cries a little at first. Then stiffens and stands straight with a defiance I am not sure will break.
She honestly has me believing for a moment she won’t.
That she will hold me hostage in this world for the rest of my life with a truth we both know, but a fake test she will forever hold over my head.
But then she softens. She looks at me defeated, and I know I’ve finally won.
“The baby is not yours, Noah,” she whispers.
That’s all I need. Those few words and I am free. Free of her and the life she wanted to drag me into. Free of the past and all the bullshit that came with it. Free to make my own choices for my future. And I know exactly where that future is meant to be.