Chapter 8

8

Faust

All my father ever did to me was lie. He felt his lies were protecting me, but all they did were hurt me. I took that hurt and keep it hidden somewhere inside me. There's nothing I can do with all that hurt right now because my father has since passed.

I can feel Shelby staring at me right now.

Her eyes like daggers. She's in complete shock. The worry ripping through her body. Knowing that I've just changed this kid's life as he stands in front of me, groggy from his nap, holding a stuffed animal tiger.

"What's your friend's name?" I ask, pointing to the tiger.

" Bongo ," the kid - my son - says.

"I like that name. That's a really cool name."

He nods. He stares.

The tension in the room is thick.

Remember - I didn't do this. This is what's been tossed my way. I'm going with what I have to work with, which is how I've always done things in my life.

You throw me into a puddle of mud, then get mad as I climb out and I splash you with some?

I turn my head and look at Shelby.

I feel my lip curling at her.

This beautiful woman. I haven't even had a second to realize just how beautiful she is now. Different than before. But a good different. Grown up. Womanly. Motherly. New curves and shapes that I'm sure she hates but I'll be honest - my fingertips are aching to touch her…

"Mommy?" the kid asks again.

"You're up way too early from your nap," Shelby says, falling into Mom role.

"I heard noises."

"That's my fault," I say. "I always make too much noise when I walk."

I suddenly want to make this kid laugh. My son. I want to see him smile. I want to hear him laugh.

Without thinking, I start to walk funny.

Lifting my feet high into the air and playfully stomping around.

It makes him giggle for a second.

When I stop, I see the look of total surprise on Shelby's face.

"Mommy, is he really my daddy?"

The question sucks all the air out of the room.

It's time for more of the truth, but from Shelby now.

"Yes," Shelby says as she looks at me. "This is Faust. He's your father." There's a pause. "And, Faust, this is your son. Oakley."

I do a double take. "Oakley?"

"Yes," Shelby says.

I look down at my son again. "It's nice to meet you, Oakley."

I crouch down and offer my right hand.

Oakley reaches out. "Nice to meet you, Faust."

He's got a little attitude in his tone when he says my name.

We shake hands.

I want to hug the kid. I want to pick him up and hold him. I want to make him a million promises and keep every single one of them.

Yet I can't help but feel like someone is stabbing me in the heart.

That I missed so much.

That I didn't even… know…

My jaw tightens.

"Where have you been?" Oakley asks so boldly.

"Oakley," Shelby says.

"It's a good question," I say without looking back at Shelby. "Here's what I can tell you, kid. There are answers in life that hurt. Sometimes it's good to wait on knowing the answers. Does that make sense?"

"No," Oakley says.

I nod. "Fair enough. Did you know I'm a hockey player?"

"No."

"Well, I am. I'm a goalie. Do you know what that is?"

Oakley shrugs his shoulders.

"So my job is to stop the puck from getting into the net. That's my job. Pretty cool, isn't it?"

"I don't know," Oakley says.

"Oakley, why don't you go potty and get back into your bed," Shelby says in that motherly tone. "It's not time to be done with your rest."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I say. "I'll work on walking quieter, okay? That a deal?"

Oakley crunches his eyebrows.

He's confused.

I've confused the hell out of my own son.

I'm not sure what the proper plan should be right now.

"You know what?" Shelby says. "Screw it. How about you get on the couch, Oakley? Okay? Rest there for a bit?"

Oakley nods furiously. He likes that idea for sure.

"I'll get your blanket and pillow," Shelby says.

She starts to take a step but I reach for her right hand and stop her.

"I'll do it," I say. "Let me know what room…?"

"Apartment isn't big," Shelby says to me.

"You want me snooping around, sweetie? In your bedroom? Huh? Are your sheets messy? Bra and panties on the floor?"

Just like that I'm flirting with her again.

I can't help myself.

Her fucking eyes are just so sweet and sexy.

Shelby doesn't respond to the bra and panties comment, but she does give me directions to Oakley's room.

My son's room.

I take a step and then pause.

"Oakley?" I whisper.

Shelby instantly swallows hard.

I like the name.

But here's the thing…

Oakley is my last name.

The bedroom looks like a kid's room.

A small bed with messy covers that have dinosaurs on them. Random toys on the floor. Cars. Dinosaurs. There's a bookshelf with a disorganized mess of books. In the one corner there's a large hammock looking thing hanging there, overflowing with stuffed animals.

The room has a small hint of sugar in the air.

I reach for the top blanket and then for the pillow with a bunch of animals on the pillowcase.

I catch myself bringing the pillow and blanket up to my nose.

They don't smell good, that's for sure.

Yet I still find myself smiling.

I close my eyes for a moment and I picture Shelby pregnant. I picture her with a round belly, waddling as she walks…

I know nothing of the pregnancy. Or of her body during the pregnancy either.

Did her feet hurt and swell? Did her face look like she had chipmunk cheeks? How big did her breasts get? Were there any complications?

I'm angry by the time I walk out of the bedroom.

I hand the pillow and blanket off to Shelby out in the living room and she gets Oakley tucked in on the couch.

Under my feet I heard a thumping noise. It slowly grows louder and louder.

The pictures on the walls start to vibrate a little.

Shelby looks at me and rolls her eyes. "That's Bobby. Him and his music. He's the nephew of the guy who owns the building."

"That's too loud," I say.

"Apartment living. You get used to it."

I look around the apartment.

There's not much space here.

"I'll go tell him to turn the music down," I say.

Shelby grabs my arm. "Don't you dare."

Her nails sink into my skin.

Fear moves through her body.

"Has something happened with this guy?" I ask. "Did he threaten you or something?"

Shelby suddenly blinks fast.

The music grows louder.

She's really nervous right now.

"Faust, please," she whispers. "Let it go. Come into the kitchen so we can talk. Please."

Her voices cracks as she begs.

My brain and heart wrestle over Shelby. I keep seeing her now as a woman and I keep seeing her years ago. She was still a woman then. Grown up, just as I was. It's just different for both of us now. Those young features have vanished, which isn't a bad thing.

I'm bigger and she's more beautiful.

The music under my feet gets a little louder. And more annoying.

I grit my teeth.

That's the thing with me being near Shelby.

It fills me with a different kind of rage.

The kind where you'd kill someone to protect someone you care about.

I turn my head and see the kid under his dinosaur blanket, holding his stuffed tiger.

I think that feeling also includes my son…