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Chapter Eighteen

Something smelled good. Like rice and chicken and spice. My first thought was that I was starving; the second thought was that I could actually smell out of my nose.

My eyes were caked with crust. I rubbed away the gunk and looked around. I was confused. I was asleep so...where was Jake?

Then I remembered. Nick was here. Nick had offered to watch him. I had left my son with the enemy.

I scrambled out of bed. There wasn't anyone in the living room. Had Nick ordered take-out to distract me with delicious smells while he took off with Jake?

I rounded the corner into the kitchen. I blinked in surprise.

The kitchen was clean. Jake was eating little cut up carrots and peas and other things he always refused to eat when I gave them to him. He was reading Go Dog Go, a book he had long ago memorized. He stabbed the page with his fork whenever he wanted Nick to turn the page.

I must have made a noise because Nick looked up. He smiled.

"Feeling better?"

I nodded dumbly. He had cooked. He had cleaned up after himself. There was a plate left out that was probably mine. It was very...domestic.

"I'm eatin' superhewo food!" Jake said excitedly. Nick smirked.

"Sit down. I saved you a plate," Nick said. I grabbed the plate and sat down.

"You sleeped a long time," Jake said. He stuffed a huge chunk of chicken in his mouth. After he swallowed he reached in and wiggled the loose tooth that had been annoying him for weeks. I glanced at the clock; it was almost six.

"Don't you need to go home?" I asked Nick. I knew I sounded like a bitch; I didn't even say thank you for the dinner that filled my mouth with delicious flavors.

Nick wiped his mouth. "Can I talk to you a minute?"

I didn't like the sound of that. I got up slowly. Jake continued to eat, oblivious to it all. He turned another page in his book. Nick and I walked into the living room. I folded my arms and waited for the bomb to drop.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Shay was wearing a shapeless nightgown and her hair was sticking out in crazy directions. She had gotten a perm since the last time I had seen her; it had looked nice before she went to bed. I followed her into the living room; she turned around and folded her arms. She didn't say a word.

"I want to tell Jake I'm his dad," I whispered. Her eyes narrowed.

"You've spent six hours around him and now you think that's enough to tip his world upside down?" Shay snapped.

"He's not stupid," I retorted. "He already asked me if I was his dad."

"He asks every man that," Shay said. Her voice cracked.

"How many men come over here?"

Her eyes widened. "That's none of your damn business!"

She had a point; my nostrils flared. I was trying to keep my temper under control.

"I hope you know I'm going to come back again."

Her face was masked with doubt. "Tell you what. When you come back again then we'll tell him."

She seriously didn't think I was going to come back.

"Deal," I said.

We walked back to the kitchen. Jake was done and picking off of Shay's plate.

"I've got to go Jake. Thanks for spending the afternoon with me," I said gently.

"Where's your house?" he asked.

"I have three houses. I live in Florida, California, and Tennessee. I'm going to Tennessee now."

He looked impressed. "My gammy lives in California," he said. "She smells like bees."

I had never smelled a bee, nor did I ever want to get the chance to smell one. The stuff he came up with...

"Can I come back for another visit soon?"

He nodded enthusiastically. I ruffled his hair. Shay didn't say another word. She looked like she was going to cry again. She walked me to the door.

"I'll be back," I repeated. I turned around, but the door greeted me in the face.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


"Mommy?"

"Yeah Jakey?"

"I liked that chicken."

I smiled. "Me too."

Jake's eyes were getting heavy. "Can he be my dad?" he asked drowsily.

I ran a hand through his hair. It was as soft as a feather.

"Get some sleep, bud," I whispered. "You get to go to preschool tomorrow."

He smiled. I stood up and clicked on his Cars nightlight. I watched his chest rise and fall. After a few minutes I closed the door, leaving just a little crack open in case he needed me.

I walked back into the kitchen, opened the freezer, and pulled out my secret stash of Oreos.

I figured after all I had been through in the last 36 hours, I deserved one. Or five. Or a dozen.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


"I need to talk about my business in Chicago."

I walked around a big moving box. Lauren and I had stuff spread out all over the country. This was one-third of our worldly possessions. Lauren looked up from the pile of towels she was amassing outside of the linen closet.

"Bad or good?"

"Depends on how you look at it."

She stopped and looked up. She was a tall, lanky specimen of beautiful lean perfection. She leaned back and her shirt stretched across her perky breasts.

"Okay," she said slowly. I sat down across from her. I took her leg and massaged her calf. Her eyes closed.

"Four years ago I went on a weight loss show," I started. Lauren opened her eyes. I didn't stop long enough for her to ask questions. I just started rambling. I didn't bother painting myself in a good light; Lauren had been around long enough to know I was far from an angel. I was a gassy, foul-mouthed fool. Even though she seemed bothered that I slept with Shay and then verbally ripped her apart, it wasn't until I mentioned the run-in at Oprah and Jake that she sat up straight.

"Nick, are you telling me--"

"I have a son," I said. The words were still foreign, but not totally bitter.

"But you don't want kids," Lauren said.

I splayed my hands out on the ground and leaned forward in a total body stretch. My muscles had tightened while I was talking.

"I know. But he's here and there's nothing that's going to reverse that. He's...he's really cute. His name's Jake; he looks just like me."

Lauren played with the corner of a towel. "Does she want child support or--"

"We didn't talk about that," I said. "I spent the day with him. I dunno, it was really nice. I'm going to see him again."

Lauren looked at me. "Why?"

"Why?" I asked. "Because he's mine."

"You made a mistake. If she's handling it--"

"What if we made a mistake?" I asked. "If you're planning on spending the rest of your life with me, it might happen."

"It won't," she said quickly.

"You don't know that."

She stood up and picked up the towel pile. Her voice was muffled when she spoke.

"If it does, there's a way to fix it before we have to worry about it," she said. "We agreed we're not parent material, Nick. Our life is good. Arrange child support and let's just get on with things."

She walked off. I sat there with my hands wrapped around my toes wondering how she could think it was that simple. I had expected some yelling or freaking out. She acted like I had found of stray puppy.

No, I take that back. If I had found a stray puppy she would have kept it. I had to believe that maybe she was jealous or hurt or something else 'womanly' that I could never decipher.

All I knew was that I was going to keep my promise. I was going to see him again.