37. Mila

THIRTY-SEVEN

It's not flesh and blood,

but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.

~ Johann Friedrich von Schiller

"Why did Aunt Connie say Mister Brad is my dad?"

I stare at my son and swallow hard. This was not how I planned for this critical moment to happen. But if my life has taught me anything it's that the biggest things, those events that matter most, rarely, if ever, go as planned.

"Well, sweetie." I take a seat on the edge of Noah's bed. "Let me tell you a story and then I'll give you your answer, okay?"

Noah nods. But he's studying me closely.

I let out a long breath, and then I tell him what I'd planned to tell him. Only I hoped I would have more lead time before we got here.

"There was this woman who found out she was pregnant. And the man she married was scared. He didn't know if he could be a dad, even though most dads feel a little scared, but they get past the fear and get the hang of it over time. But this man was sure he couldn't learn, so he left because he didn't know how to stay."

I repeat the words Phyllis told me the day Brad left. Words she said over and over so I would never blame myself for Brad's lack of capacity to step up to the plate.

"Good men stay."

"I know, Mom. You always say that thing, good men stay." Noah looks at me earnestly. "Like Unko Kai. He stays."

"He does. You're right." I smile at the simplicity of Noah's perspective.

"Anyway," I continue. "This man never met his son, because he left. And one day he called the woman saying he was very, very sorry and he wanted to meet his son. But the woman didn't want the man to hurt her son. He's not a bad man, but the son didn't know him at all. The woman had raised the boy alone. But with lots of people around."

"Like me with Aunt Phyllis, Auntie Chloe, Aunt Connie and Aunt Joan … and Unko?"

"Yes. Like that. Anyway, the woman knew the boy should meet his dad. But she was concerned that it might upset the boy. And she would do anything to protect her son from being sad or upset when he didn't do anything wrong. So she told the dad he could come around but just as a friend. And in time she would let her son know that was his dad."

"But I don't want Mister Brad to be my dad!" Noah's brows draw up and his eyes plead with me.

Noah figured it out. I've confirmed it. As messy and inconvenient as this is, Brad is his dad. And Noah isn't any happier about that fact right now than I am.

Maybe Noah figured it out as soon as I started telling the story. He's a bright boy. Either way, the truth has come home to roost. And instead of eggs, this chicken is laying a bag of bricks. My son looks crushed by the reality of his situation. And there's nothing I can do to spare him this pain.

"Oh, Noah," I say.

I can't think of anything else to say. When I reach for him, he pulls back a little like a frightened animal. So, I sit with him, allowing him the dignity to process this huge chunk of life-altering information. It would be absurd to think he'd just swallow it in one bite without any emotional reaction.

I knew this would happen. Nothing could have prepared me for the feeling of helplessness I'm sitting through right now while my seven-year-old handles the aftermath of his father's broken choices.

"Does Mister Brad have to come live with us?"

"Oh! Is that what you thought?" I smooth my hand along Noah's shin, and he lets me. "No. He doesn't have to live with us. He won't be living with us. I'm not married to him. We won't be getting married again. He just wants to be in your life."

Noah's eyes lift toward the ceiling like he's assimilating all of that into the news that Brad is his biological father.

When he looks at me again, he asks, "Like letting me drive the skid steer?"

"Yes. Like that."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. He can be my dad as long as he doesn't live with us."

Within a matter of minutes, I've been swept out in a riptide and plopped back safely on shore. Relief floods me. Noah knows. The secret is out. And he's temporarily okay. There may be more swells down the road. But for tonight, he's accepting that Brad is his dad, and he also knows my lines. Maybe my lines are the key to his acceptance. He doesn't have to let Brad in too far. But he can allow him into his life at some level.

And those lines of mine are solid and firm, a stone breakwall against the impact of the sea. I won't ever be getting back together with Brad, no matter what happens with Kai. Brad and I are finished. For good.

"Mom?" Noah yawns as he says my name.

"Yeah, Noah?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"You can tell me anything."

He pauses, his eyes on mine, as if he's weighing whether he can really tell me whatever it is he wants to say.

Then he says, "I wish Unko Kai was my dad. He does things a dad does. And I think he likes you like a dad likes a mom. He always looks at you too much. And you look at him too much too. Maybe one day he could live here instead of Mister Brad."

I try not to let my smile crack across my face, but I can't help it. I keep it to a grin, though.

"Maybe. We'll see. We'd have to be boyfriend and girlfriend first."

"That's gross. But if you have to, I won't look."

"You won't look?"

"When you kiss." Noah makes a sour face and sticks his tongue out to emphasize just how distasteful the idea of me and Kai kissing is to him. It's the very same face he makes when I try to serve him Brussels sprouts.

"Okay. Deal." I stick my hand out and he shakes it, just like he shook Brad's the other day.

"There's not any guarantee that Kai and I will be more than friends, Noah. Just so you know. But I know this. Kai will always be there for you, because he loves you."

"I know. And he'll always be there for you too."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because he loves you too."