12. Dexter

His father?

Did she just say his father? Did Hope imply that the baby is mine?

My jaw’s on the floor and my feet are rooted to the spot as the implications of what she said get processed by my tiny brain.

He deserves to know who his father is.

She said that. She really said that. She implied that I’m the baby’s fucking father.

“Fuck.”

I don’t know much about the size of babies, but it looked small. But was it three months old small? I didn’t get a good look at it, but I think the hair was a wispy orange.

Oh fuck.

By the time I can move my feet again, Hope’s gone. I jog across the square in the direction she came from, but I don’t see her. I jog the perimeter of the square, checking the parking lots, but there’s no sign of Hope.

She couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I’ve shown her that I really am just an angry beast.

Fuck. She’s right. I don’t deserve to be the father of that kid. She’s found him another father, and there’s no doubt in my mind that clean-cut asshole will do a better job than I could.

Two hours later I’m sitting across from Ty with the remnants of a large double cheese pizza in front of us.

“You sure you’re not gonna have that piece?”

Ty indicates the last piece of pizza, and when I shake my head, he snags it from the plate and stuffs it in his mouth.

“Why aren’t you eating?” His eyebrows pull together. “Are you sick?”

I didn’t have the energy to take him to laser tag today. We’re at Pizza Palace instead, and I’ve promised him all the ice cream he can eat and given him twenty bucks for the arcade games, which tells you what a shit father I’d be. Swapping doing something active for pizza and essentially video games.

Half a piece of pizza sits on my plate and I really want a beer, but I’m sticking to full fat soda instead.

“I’m not sick.”

Ty squints at me. “Are you sure? Cause you look like shit.”

“Hey. Don’t use that language.”

Ty grins. “Ah good, you are still in there.”

I sigh and take a halfhearted bite of pizza. I’m not sick, but my stomach’s hollow and my chest aches. I let her walk away, again. And worse than that, I let her walk away with my son.

But she’s right. I’m not fit to be a father. I’d fuck it up like I fuck everything up. Like I fucked up my army career.

My hearing partially went from not wearing the proper ear protectors when I was blowing shit up. I was honorably discharged, and I’ll never have full hearing again. If I’d just kept my gear on when I should have, I would have been all right. But I’m irresponsible and stupid, and that kid deserves better.

“Is it the girl?” Ty asks around a mouthful of pizza. “She’s a babe.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, and don’t talk about women in that way.”

He wipes the grease off his chin. “Sorry, but she is hot, man. She’s got big…”

“Ty.” I cut him off with a sharp look. “You don’t talk about the size of a woman’s…”

He’s laughing at me behind his hand and I shake my head, a smile forming on my lips.

At least I’m making someone laugh today.

But Jesus, the boy needs a man in his life to tell him how to treat women, or he’s going to get himself slapped. Jeanine does what she can for him, but the kid needs to learn a thing or two.

“So is she the reason you’re grumpier than usual?”

I scowl at Ty, but he’s right. “Yeah. It’s the girl.”

He shakes his head sagely, looking wiser than his years. “That’s rough, dude. Women are tough.”

“What do you know about women?”

It was only a few months ago that Ty would wrinkle his nose at anything girly and go out of his way to avoid any female classmates we ran into. I guess he’s hit puberty.

“Did you tell her how you feel?”

I shake my head. “What’s the point? She’s with another guy.”

A guy who looks put together and not a fuck up like me. A guy who’s raising my son, I add silently.

Ty looks surprised. “Are you sure? Because the way she was looking at you…” He looks away wistfully. “I wish Harper would look at me like that.”

I raise my eyes, because this is the first time he’s mentioned a girl.

“Who’s Harper?”

Ty shakes his head. “We’re talking about your love life, Dex, not mine.”

Great, I’m getting advice from a twelve-year-old who believes my relationship issues are more pressing than his.

“I saw them together. He’s at the same hotel she’s staying at.”

He takes a long sip of his soda.

“Did you see them kiss?”

He says the word kiss like it’s a really big deal, and I guess it is to a twelve-year-old.

“No.”

“How do you know they’re together?”

I run a hand down my face. This kid’s got more questions than a demolition safety report.

“I just know.”

I don’t want to tell Ty about my son yet. It’s the kind of thing that might trigger him.

“Nah man.” He sits back in the booth and shakes his head at me with all the wisdom of his twelve years old. “I wouldn’t let that guy get her. You gotta tell her how you feel. Then if she still wants the dude, fair enough, but she’d be stupid to choose someone else over you.”

It’s high praise coming from a twelve-year-old.

“Thanks man.”

I take a sip of soda, thinking about Hope and the baby and all the questions I have for her.

“So what are you waiting for, man?” Ty nudges me under the table. “What’s stopping you? Go get her.”

He’s right. I know where she’s staying. I can’t let her walk out of my life again without telling her how I feel and without finding out if the baby really is mine.

“You don’t mind if I drop you off early?”

He shakes his head. “Not if it means you’ll get the girl and stop being such a grumpy assho…”

I give him a sharp look, and he doesn’t finish the word he was about to say.

Once I figure out my own shit, I’m giving Ty a lesson in appropriate language.