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“Do what?”
“Say nice things about her? She never says anything nice about you. You’re always the villain or the fool. She made your kid think you were pathetic and embarrassing.” He hitches in a breath. “And yeah, that orange shirt you were wearing at my party was awful, but you’re not pathetic. And you’re not a bad guy, not even close. I’m sorry, Dad. I’m just so fucking sorry.”
I’m not sure who moves first, him or me, but we meet in the middle, standing beside the island, hugging each other tight. He’s still a couple inches shorter than I am, but so much broader than the last time I held him. He’s really a man now, a fact he’s proven this morning.
“It’s okay, son,” I say to the top of his head, the one I used to love kissing when he napped on my chest as a baby. “I love you, Adrian. I always have and I always will. It’s not too late. We can make things right. No doubt in my mind.”
“I want that,” he says, sniffing. “But fuck, Dad. I have no idea how to be a good son, let alone a good father. And Gigi didn’t answer my texts this morning about the paternity test. I’m afraid she’s going to push me out of her life entirely, and I’ll never know if the baby is mine.”
I pull back, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Give her time. Maybe she’s just scared and overwhelmed.” I pause, choosing my words carefully before I add, “And if she refuses to take the test, that’s a pretty strong sign that she doesn’t think the results will be what you want them to be.”
He swipes at his face again with a grunt. “Yeah. You’re probably right, but still…I want to know. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to be a dad before this, but if that’s my kid, I don’t want to let them down.”
“Then you won’t,” I say, prouder of him than I’ve been in a long time. “You’ve shown you can accomplish anything you set your mind to, Adrian. This won’t be any different, and I’ll be here to support you every step of the way.”
His lips twitch at the edges. “Thanks. I’m glad you’re going to be in the city more. Maybe we could hang out sometimes. Do lame father-son shit.”
“You mean kick-ass father-son shit,” I say, giving his shoulder a playful nudge as I release him. “I could give you cleaning tips and you can help me avoid embarrassing party outfits.”
He rolls his eyes. “You weren’t really embarrassing. My friend, Summer, actually thought you were hot. It was gross.”
I pull in a breath to agree with him but stop myself. Adrian’s here being honest with me. Don’t I owe him the same? I’m not about to out Sydney right now, but when we’re ready to come forward, I don’t want Adrian to have any contradictory information out of my own mouth to use against me.
“Well, maybe not so gross,” I say gently. “I did become a father when I was very young.”
Adrian snorts. “Not that young. Summer’s a freshman at NYU. She’s one of the kids I’m mentoring for the DJ stuff.”
Pride swelling in my chest again, I agree, “Yeah, that’s way too young. But I’m proud of you. It’s great to hear that you’re giving back.”
“I’m not always a spoiled brat,” he says with a self-deprecating grin. “Just with you, Pops and…I’m going to do better with that. I don’t know why it took my girlfriend getting pregnant to make me put myself in your shoes, but it did. I guess it’s like my friend Sydney says, I need to practice using my empathy muscle more often.” Before I can recover from the shock of hearing Sydney’s name on his lips, he adds with a sigh, “Which reminds me, I owe her an apology. She was the one who told me I should talk to you yesterday. When it didn’t go well, I…kind of gave her shit about it. Shit she absolutely didn’t deserve. She’s one of the best people I know. Always ready to drop everything for a friend.” He pauses, considering me out of the corners of his eyes, making my anxiety spike higher. “You’d probably like her. She’s more of a grown-up than the rest of us hooligans. Probably because her mom died when she was young, and she practically had to raise herself. Her dad sounds like a huge dick.”
“Parental relationships can be hard,” I say, torn between the voice in my head screaming that I have to come clean—he mentioned Sydney by name and she’s literally hiding under my table right now—and the certainty that this isn’t the time. “I still don’t talk to your grandma more than once or twice a year. She never forgave me for losing physical custody of her only grandson. She warned me not to let your mom leave the city with you, but I was young and naïve and thought I knew Angela better than she did.”
Adrian’s nose wrinkles. “No one knows Mom. Except me, and after yesterday…” He sighs. “I don’t know. I love Mom. I’ll always love her. She’s my best friend. But she’s always hustling, trying to rearrange the world to her liking, and she doesn’t care who she has to steamroll to get what she wants.” His lips curve in a wry smile. “But I’m the same way a lot of the time, so…”
“You don’t have to be,” I say. “You’re still young. Nothing about you is set in stone. You can choose to be whoever you want to be.”
He pulls in a breath, but before he can respond, his cell dings. He pulls it out of his jeans pocket, his shoulders inching closer to his ears as he reads. “It’s Gigi. She wants to talk. At her place in the Village.”
I rest a hand on his shoulder, giving the tight muscles a gentle squeeze. “Good. You’ve got this. And if you want to talk after, we could grab an early dinner later. Maybe sushi at that place you liked when you were in junior high, the one that sends the rolls by on the toy train?”
Adrian laughs and rolls his eyes. “I think we’re both too old for that one now, but there’s a kick-ass Thai place not far from here. Maybe Thai later? If I’m not crying in my beer somewhere because Gigi told me she lied about me being her baby daddy?”
I tip my head down until my gaze is level with his. “You already have a hangover. I would suggest a moratorium on beer for the rest of the weekend. And Thai food is a great choice on a hard day. If you start crying, you can always blame the spicy curry. Or you could come here, and we could order takeout.”
“Yeah, takeout sounds good,” he says. “I’ll text you if I can make it. And thanks. For the talk. It was good.”
“It was great,” I say, meaning it with everything in me. “I love you. And you’ve got this. I believe in you.”
He leans in and we hug again—two hugs in less than thirty minutes after years of being held at a distance in every way possible. It’s almost more than I can handle, a fact proven when I stand staring at the door for several seconds after Adrian leaves before I remember—“Sydney. Fuck.”
I hurry out onto the balcony. “Hey, I’m sorry. Are you okay? He just left.”
“I’m fine,” she says, crawling out from under the tablecloth. I reach to help her up, but she’s already on her feet. “So, what’s up? Is he okay?” she asks, running both hands quickly through her hair. “Sorry. There was a spider under there. I’m pretty sure it was in my hair at some point.”
“I’m sorry. Here, turn around, let me check for you.”
She smiles as she tosses her hair over her shoulder and turns. “Checking your lady friend for spiders. Is that one of the many services you provide?”
