42. Wrinley
Wrinley
“ W hat did I miss?” I chirp.
The second I walked in the door I knew I walked into something.
What that something is, I’m not sure. All I know is, my man is sitting at the table and looks like he’s either about to bolt or…
cry? I have to be imagining things, because while Axel Bradley is starting to get better with his feelings, he most definitely doesn’t cry .
I have to navigate this carefully. If I handle it wrong, he’ll spook and bolt for sure.
“Oh, nothing dear,” Dad assures me from the kitchen sink where he’s washing dishes.
“Dad, you don’t have to wash those. I’ll take care of it after dinner.” I hurry over to him and pull the cooking utensils from his hands to drop them back in the soapy dishwater. “You’ve already done so much. Let me at least do that. Please.”
Thankfully he relents and I move all the food to the table. I don’t exactly know what Cock O Van is, but it actually smells delicious.
Dad and I sit with Axel at the table. As we fix our plates, my gaze wanders between them.
My father and the father of my child. It’s enough to make me more emotional than I already am.
I wish mom were here to see this. To see dad cooking and baking.
To see him bonding with–wait… what is he?
Boyfriend doesn’t seem right, but we’re not married. What’s in between that?
An obviously intentional cough disrupts my almost panic and I look up from my plate to see them both staring at me like creeps.
“What?”
“You were totally zoning out staring at the cock-a-doodle-vangogh,” Axel snorts. Like an actual snort.
“Son, it’s Cock O Van,” Dad corrects him, enunciating each word to drive his point home.
Okay what the actual fuck is happening right now? Are they bantering?
Okay, so this is happening.
Alright Wrinley, we can do this.
My little pep talk helps because I shoot them both a glare followed by a snicker. “I’m pretty sure you’re both wrong. So Dad, you’ve been through your RuPaul’s Drag Race phase, your Great British Bake Off phase and now your Julia Child phase. What’s next?”
“I’ll have you know, dear daughter, none of those were phases. I’m just building up my skills. I have to keep busy somehow when it’s not tax season, especially now that you’re obviously too busy to have dinner with your dear old dad every week like you used to.” He offers me a playful smirk.
Ouch.
Touché.
He’s wearing a smirk, like he’s kidding, although I have to wonder if he’s really bothered by it and that makes me very much not want to play this little game anymore.
“What fancy dessert did you make tonight, Dad?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Oh, nothing fancy this time around, honey. Just a simple cherry cobbler.”
My jaw clenches. I know what he's doing.
“It was your mother’s favorite,” he continues, steadfast in his obvious agenda.
“I remember.” My leg begins to bounce under the table, as what was a slight twinge of nausea this morning, now settles into the pit of my stomach, ready to join the party.
If I’m not careful, I will purge my dinner.
No one tells you that morning sickness doesn’t always happen in the morning.
They really should fix that. It’s very misleading.
“I know you’re busy living your life, honey. I’d settle for you coming with me to the cemetery for the anniversaries again, though.”
“Dad–”
He raises a hand before I can finish. “Just hear me out. Go see her one time. I’ll go on a different day so you can have some space without worrying about me. If you still don’t want to go after that, you won’t hear another word about it from me.”
Axel’s hand slides over my knee. He squeezes just enough to remind me he’s here with me and it works.
My breathing slows and I consider my father for a moment before answering.
He’s aged lately and I hate it. But realistically, I know one day I’ll lose him too.
I know it would make him happy if I went to see her after all these years.
I turn to look at Axel. “Will you go with me?”
“Baby, I’ll go anywhere you need me to. Whatever you need.
Always.” The tenor of his voice is so absolute.
So certain for someone who can’t even say he loves me after everything we’ve already been through.
How the hell am I supposed to bring a child into this world with a man that doesn’t know how the fuck he feels.
“Uh huh,” I mumble before shooting daggers at him with my glare.
“What’s wrong?” he asks with a furrowed brow.
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t know what that means.” He responds by pulling his hand away like I just scalded him with my words.
I suppose I did.
It was a low blow. I know that, but fuck if I know what any of this means. I’m carrying this man’s child, for fuck sake and he can’t even say three simple words.
“Wrinley Anne,” Dad calls sharply from the other side of the table. “Take a breath and let’s step away for a minute before you blow a blood vessel.”
He moves to stand but Axel stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, David.” I can’t stop my eyes from rolling as I fake gag. Axel spends one dinner with my father and now they’re best fucking friends. “I’ll give you two some time.”
I scoff to myself. How fucking generous of him to give me some time alone with my own parent.
He stands and places a soft kiss on the top of my head before making his way out the front door. My ears perk up, waiting to hear the bike engine roar to life, but I never hear it.
My shoulders slump as unwelcome tears start to fall. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Sweetheart,” Dad mutters quietly. Somewhere in the middle of my mental breakdown, he moved chairs. “What’s got you so upset?”
“I–I don’t know,” I admit hesitantly. “I’ve been so emotionally sensitive lately and I don’t know why.”
Okay maybe I do know the reason.
Dad grabs my hand and squeezes tight. “How long have you known?”
In an instant, my tears dry up and I sit straight in my chair like I’m somehow in middle school again and have just been scolded for passing notes in class.
“Excuse me?” I choke out. Surely, he can’t be talking about what I think he’s talking about.
“Wrinley Anne. I’m a lot of things, but dumb is not one of them.
” His expression is stern, like he’s about to go full dad mode on me.
If he does, I’m not sure I won’t cry again.
“The thing is, you look so much like your mother, it’s almost uncanny.
And she had the same exact glow about her when she was pregnant with you. ”
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.
“Calm down, sweetheart,” Dad coos. “I can see you starting to spiral. I’m not upset, so you can relax. Do you know how far along you are?”
I shake my head just enough for him to get the answer. “I only found out a couple of weeks ago and I’ve been too freaked out to make an appointment. Wait… you can really tell?” If dad can tell, does that also mean Axel can tell?
“I can only tell because I know you, although that little mood swing you just had confirmed it. Are you getting morning sickness?”
“Why do they call it that? It literally happens all day. I don’t always puke my guts out, but I rarely want to eat.”
“The name is strange, although I would imagine ‘sickness’ doesn’t quite say enough.” If there’s one thing my father is good at, it’s lightening the mood with a little humor. Once again, it does the trick. Light laughter escapes me at his silly sense of humor.
“Dad, I’m terrified.”
“That’s normal. I think you’ll find that fear doesn’t ever really go away when it comes to your children. Does he know?”
I shake my head again. “No. I haven’t had the nerve to tell him. Dad, his shithead parents emotionally stunted him and he doesn’t even know what love means. I told him I love him and he said he doesn’t even know what it means. He couldn’t say it back.”
“Honey, you really think he doesn’t know what love is?”
I give him my best duhhh expression. “That’s what he said.”
“Action speaks louder than words, Wrinley. You’ve spent more time with him than I have–obviously–and even I can tell that man loves you.
I’d be willing to bet if you really looked at him and the things he does, you’d see his love in the little things.
But you don’t have to take my word for it.
You do have to tell him about the baby, though. He’ll find out eventually.”
“I know. He doesn’t really like kids, though. What if I lose him?”
“Oh boy. Here we go.” An exasperated sigh leaves his lips. “He can not like kids all he wants. There’s nothing like your own child. That man will love your child because he loves you and you made that life together. Your own child is always the exception.”
“But Axel wasn’t the exception for his own parents. How do you know he won’t be the same way with his child?”
“I don’t know how I know… I just do, sweetheart.”
Well fuck.
More tears fall as we stand and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a tight hug.
I sink into him and let them fall. It’s hard to admit it to him, but talking to him about this did help.
I don’t know how I’m going to tell him, but my confidence to do it is higher now than it was when we walked in here.
Dad squeezes me even tighter just before he softly says, “Your mother loved you more than anything, Wrinley. You took care of me because she wasn’t here to do it.
You put your life on hold.” He pulls away and places a kiss on my forehead before gripping my shoulders and looking me right in the eyes. “It’s time to live your life now.”
“I am living my life, Dad.”
“Honey, I love you, but no… you’re not. It’s time you stop worrying about me and focus on that baby and that new man of yours. Maybe try dancing again. Dance like she’s still watching, cause she just might be. It’s what she’d want for you. She’d want you to be happy.”
“But I am happy!”