Chapter 2 #4
“And I’ll consult with my own attorney.” Guess I’d better find one of those. Maybe not my former criminal defense lawyer. “Just to be sure my rights as a dad get considered as well.”
“Fine.” She clenches her jaw, then lets it soften. “I really am sorry for how I handled this.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not, and I’m sorry.” She nibbles the edge of her lip. “You’re right that I don’t react well when I’m scared.”
“I get it.” Despite how this whole thing went down, I feel kinda tender toward Hazel. She might’ve done a piss-poor job with this pregnancy announcement, but at least she’s communicating now. “I’m sure it freaked you out when you learned you were knocked up.”
“There’s an understatement,” she mutters. “Do twins run in your family?”
“Yes. And I know they’re in yours.” When her forehead scrunches in surprise, I fill in the blank. “Lucy and Mason are twins, right? Your cousins?”
“I—yes.” She hesitates. “Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“I really am sorry. I know what it feels like to be misjudged. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I’ll live.” And I’m starting to think that sorry is Hazel Spencer’s favorite word.
Watching her hands, I see her frail fists clench and unclench. There’s a fat emerald ring on her right middle finger, and some sort of pearl on her left hand. I know zilch about jewelry, but both look expensive.
Then there’s the ring on her left pinky finger. It’s skinny and silver, dinged up and scratched with a small, tarnished knot in the middle. It looks like the kind my sister would buy at the State Fair for five bucks each summer, then lose before Labor Day.
Hazel catches me looking and balls up her hands, tucking them under the table. Lifting her gaze, she draws in a breath. “I’m also sorry for how I’ve been ignoring you since that day in my foyer. That wasn’t fair to you.”
Well that’s a surprise. “Didn’t think you wanted to go there, but yeah… I was kinda surprised by the cold shoulder. I thought we both had a good time.”
“We did. I did, I mean.” Pink stains her cheeks as she pauses.
“It was great. You were great, and then I went and pretended it didn’t happen.
I felt embarrassed and desperate and needy, and I hated the thought of you thinking of me that way, so I avoided you.
That was immature and unkind and I’m sorry. ”
“Apology accepted.” Shit, I should apologize, too. “I’m sorry if I took advantage of you that day. I know you were having a rough time, and I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t.” There’s that flush in her cheeks again. “I wanted to.”
“So did I.”
“Okay then.”
We sit there in silence a moment. Between our discussion of prison and pregnancy, there’s a fragile new intimacy between us. A connection that didn’t exist when I zipped up my pants and walked out the door four months ago.
Something about it gives me the urge to kiss her. Not a passionate kiss like we shared in that foyer. Something gentle and soft, just a brush of my lips on the side of her head.
But there’s no way she’d welcome that, so I get to my feet. “You’ll be in touch then?”
“I—yes.” She looks up and blinks. “We can hammer out details through phone calls and emails.”
“Sounds good.” Sounds like a business discussion, but that’s what we agreed, right? “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to attend some doctors’ appointments.” I don’t even know what they’re called. “Maybe one where you get the little printout picture and possibly find out the gender?”
“Ultrasound,” she says. “That’s the procedure, but the sonogram is the image it produces. That’s coming up at the end of next week.”
“Right. I’d like to be there if possible.”
“I’ll send you the details.”
There’s that urge again. A bone-deep temptation to wrap my arms around her. To protect this woman and the two little beings inside her.
I take a step back instead. “G’night, Hazel.”
“Goodnight, Luke.”
I don’t look back as I slip through the door and make my way out to the hall. Hazel’s three friends are nowhere in sight, but I’m guessing they haven’t gone far. She’ll probably summon them back as soon as I’m gone.
I stumble out into the parking lot in a daze. Twins. I’m going to be a father.
Holy shit.
My head spins all the way to my truck. Once I’m inside, I pull out my phone and tab to the contact I’ve saved as “Ark Man.”
I pause with a finger over the call button, recalling my promise to Hazel.
I’ll stay out of trouble. I won’t hang with criminals. I won’t get arrested.
I don’t plan on doing the latter. The former, well . . . I don’t plan on getting in trouble. And as far as I know, Ark Man has paid all his debts to society. That means he’s no more a criminal than I am.
So why did he configure your phone with an untraceable coder?
That’s just the rule of the agency he works for. And it’s not like I know there’s anything shady about them. Do I have questions? Sure, who wouldn’t? But as far as I know, they’re not breaking the law. They’re secretive as hell, but that’s not illegal.
Keep telling yourself that.
But seriously, I have no reason to believe these jobs I’ve been doing are anything other than glorified public service. Just unusual side-work that pays well.
It’s money I’ve used to get back on my feet after five years in prison.
Money I’ve donated to charities making a difference for teens on the wrong track.
Money I’ll need to support a young family.
I’m dialing before I can talk myself out of it. Ark Man picks up fast on the first ring. “Luke.”
“Hey.” Clearing my throat, I push back a faint press of guilt. “I could use a little extra cash. Wanted to put that out there, in case you need someone to pick up a few extra jobs.”
He doesn’t respond right away. “There a reason?”
“A reason I need money?”
“You in some kind of trouble?”
“No.” Not the kind he’s thinking. “Just needing to stockpile some savings.”
His silence suggests he doesn’t believe me, but the man doesn’t push. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up and sit there a moment, staring out over the lake. Starlight sloshes on dark little waves, painting the water with sparks. I roll down my window a little, breathing in spongy, wet earth and the soft brine of sea salt. Somewhere on the shore, a screech owl hoots a few times.
It stirs up a memory of the owl-covered wallpaper I had in my childhood bedroom. Mom could only afford to do one of the walls, but she and my sister and I worked together to paste it in place.
Will my kids have their own bedroom or share one? What will they be like, these two little beings I’ll meet in five months?
Drawing a breath, I stare out at the water.
“I’m gonna be a dad.” Something stirs in my gut, so I say it again. “A dad.”
Sticking the key in the ignition, I fire up the engine and drive away smiling.