51. Hawk
Knocking lightly, I waited patiently while my mom worked herself up to answer the door. The sun was warm on my back, the sound of kids playing in a yard up the street the only thing floating on the afternoon breeze. I smiled to myself; the fact that those sounds existed in this neighborhood made me happy, because it hadn’t always been that way.
After a few minutes had passed, I saw her twitch the curtain, her worried eyes finding mine as she visibly relaxed.
“Well, this is a nice surprise,” she said, once I’d slid through the small opening she’d made for me to enter. “You just missed Charlie.”
“He still comes by here?” I asked, surprised. Charlie hadn’t told me he was visiting my mom, but I supposed I should have suspected it.
“He comes every other week or so,” Mom answered, heading for the kitchen to put on the kettle. “What brings you by? Not that I’m not happy to see you. I just wasn’t expecting you, is all.”
Following her into the cozy kitchen, I clutched the envelope against me, knowing that this was about to be a difficult conversation.
“I had some things I needed to talk to you about,” I said simply, feeling about two feet tall. “Some important things.”
She looked at me, concern on her face.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes.” No. I don’t know.
“Well, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, so excuse me if I don’t believe you.”
She turned back to the kettle as I considered her words. Maybe I had seen a ghost. Because after all these years, that’s what Wren had been to me. A ghost that had haunted my dreams, teasing me with memories that drifted around like aether.
Now that I knew who she was—had seen her face—more and more memories of that night were returning to me, knocked loose by the photographs of a woman with golden hair and a tired smile.
Images flashed through my mind of a young woman on her knees, hand hovering over a guitar, staring at it with reverence.
My arms wrapped around her while she played for me, her fingers hesitant as she strummed.
They were little things, mere moments, really, but they were new, and somehow, I could feel that they were of Wren.
I just didn’t know what they all meant.
Mom finished assembling the tea—lemon for me, of course—and brought the mugs to the table along with a plate of peanut butter cookies.
“Now, tell me what this big business is. You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. Let me carry some of it for you, my boy.”
I sighed, the shaky breath leaving me feeling empty and unsure. I didn’t know how my mom would feel, finding out that I more than likely had a child out in the world that I’d never known about, but I knew I felt like shit.
The more I stared at the photos Charlie had given me, the more I thought about their life and what they’d potentially been through, alone, the more gutted I felt.
Maybe I wouldn’t have been a good dad, but I would have given it my best fucking shot.
And Wren? Could there have been something there? Would we have made more than just a baby together?
I’d never know.
Because Tori had fucking stolen that from us.
The rage I felt almost constantly these days started to bubble up again, no longer just content to simmer in the back of my mind while I decided how to best handle all of this. Tori still didn’t know that I knew what she had done, and I was working hard to keep it that way.
For now.
Because when the time came for me to confront Tori, there’d be hell to pay. And this time, I had the upper hand.
But my mother was staring at me, worry in her eyes, so I put my anger and resentment aside and got right to it.
“It has recently come to my attention that, several years ago, I spent the night with a girl on tour.” I licked my lips, dropping my eyes to the envelope on the table, my hand splayed over it as though I could protect its contents by sheer will alone. “And that girl may have gotten pregnant that night.”
To her credit, my mom didn’t immediately start yelling, which was what I’d expected. I watched her, the way her hands clutched at her mug just that much tighter. Her eyes widened a little, but she composed herself quickly, and nodded, but said nothing.
“Mom?” I asked, confused. “Are you going to say something?”
“When will you know for sure?” she asked, her eyes now also on the envelope, as though she could see the contents through sheer will alone. “I don’t want to get my hopes up until you’re sure.”
“Get your hopes up?”
My mother lifted her head, looking at me like I was the world’s biggest idiot.
“Yes, Hawk. Get my hopes up. You don’t think you can come here and tell me that I may have a grandbaby out there in the world and not have me get excited about it, do you?”
“I...uh, didn’t actually know what you’d think.”
“Shame on you, Hawk Jameson. Thinking that I’d do anything but love any child of yours. How old is this baby? You haven’t been on tour in a while.”
“She’s, um, she’s fourteen, Mom.”
“Fourteen!” she exclaimed, pressing her hand to her chest. “Goodness, she’s not a baby at all, is she? Where is she? Tell me about her.”
I swallowed, more than a little shocked by her reaction, but I flipped the envelope open and pulled out the stack of photos that Charlie had provided.
“She’s in a tiny town in Minnesota,” I said, laying down one of the photos. It was the same one I’d started with, the one of a smiling girl standing outside her school.
“Oh, Hawk,” she said, lifting her hand to cover her mouth. “Hawk, look at her, baby.”
I did. I had been. Every day, for hours, I sat staring at the photos and trying to decide what to do. I felt in my heart that I needed to know her, know them. But my head told me that I needed to put their best interests first, and there were a lot of reasons why that wasn’t me.
“She is your child, Hawk. I’d bet my life on it.”
“I think so, too, Mom,” I whispered, feeling my heart pound in my chest.
“What’s her name?”
“Cooper,” I said with a smile, because it was such a badass name for a girl, and something that Wren would absolutely have done.
“Oh, that’s so lovely. Cooper.” Mom stared down at the photo, her fingers lightly tracing over Cooper’s face, as though trying to commit it to memory before she spoke again. “How did this happen?” she asked, but raised a hand before I could answer. “Not that part. I know how that part happened.” She smiled cheekily at me before continuing. “I mean, how has it taken so long for you to find out about her? What happened to keep you all apart?”
“That’s the part I’m still trying to work out,” I admitted. “There’s a lot happening in the background right now, and I’m just trying to determine if I should disrupt their lives or not.”
“Disrupt their lives? What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m not exactly a prize these days.” Sitting back from the table, I ran my fingers through my hair, which was longer than usual and in desperate need of a cut. “I’m a washed-up has-been with more baggage than an airport. I have some skeletons in my closet, and I’m just not sure if inserting myself into their lives is the best thing for them.”
Returning to the pile of photos, I pulled out some more, ones of Wren and Cooper together. There was one of them walking through a park, Wren smiling and Cooper rolling her eyes at whatever Wren had just said. Another of them in the car together, not talking, but just existing in silence. The next was taken through their kitchen window, the slight blurriness of the image hinting at a long-range lens. It showed the two of them sitting at the table, eating a simple dinner that Wren had probably cooked, talking like every other normal family.
“They’ve built something together, Mom. The two of them. I’m not sure that what I have to offer is worth ruining that for them. Maybe I should just send them some money and leave them alone.”
The thought was like a dagger to my chest. I hated the idea of never knowing Wren and her daughter. Hated the idea that I would only make their lives worse, but given everything that my life was, I couldn’t deny that it was a distinct possibility.
“Now you listen to me. You are more than just your money, Hawk. You have so much to offer people, so much love inside you. How could you be anything but a blessing to these girls?”
“My life is messy. I have paparazzi and reporters that still follow me around most days. Imagine what would happen if people found out about Cooper? The media is hard on women, Mom. They’re hard on everyone, but especially women. I can’t do that to them, can I?”
“That right there is exactly why you should,” she insisted. “Because you’re already putting them first. You don’t even know if she’s really yours, and your first instinct is to protect her. That’s exactly what a father does and you’re doing it without thought.”
I sat there, staring at the photos that were splayed across the table, and weighed her words.
She was right, I did want to protect them, even if it was from myself.
“Hawk,” she went on when I didn’t speak for a while. “I know you didn’t have a good example of a dad growing up, and that’s on me and my poor choice. But you are proving right now that you have what it takes. You can offer these girls so much more than just money. I think you should really consider that before you write off the opportunity to get to know them.
“You would never be someone’s poor choice, Hawk.”