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I squeeze her hand before she goes inside. I must sit there for nearly another ten minutes before Patrick finally makes it back to the house, his chest heaving from the exertion of his run. I’m sitting there so quietly that he doesn’t notice me until he’s almost to the top step of the porch stairs. When he does finally see me, he comes over and sits down next to me on the swing. He uses the tips of his toes to start moving us back and forth, almost like he’s trying to lull me to sleep.
I do as his mother asked and try to give him the space he needs. I know it’s time to have our heart-to-heart when he asks, “Is he mine?”
Chapter nine
Patrick
Isee her sitting on the porch from almost a quarter of a mile away, but I can’t bring myself to look at her as I draw nearer. I’ve been repeatedly going over what she said. She never married Kiernan. Why wouldn’t she have married Kiernan if she was pregnant with his child? The only logical conclusion I could come to is that Alex wasn’t his. He’s mine.
When I finally reach the top step of the porch, my eyes lock with hers. I want to wipe away the red rims I see, but I can’t. I need answers first. I sit on the swing next to her, saying nothing but rocking us into a comfortable lull instead. I wish I had something more eloquent to say, but the only words I can get out are, “Is he mine?”
She doesn’t say anything for a long time, and I want to scream in frustration at her silence. I need more than that. I deserve more than that. However, when I look over and see her silhouetted face, I notice the tears streaming down her cheeks as she practically chokes on a sob.
“Yes,” she squeaks out. “He’s yours.”
At this news, I break down and cry again. I don’t mean a manly cry, but the ugly kind of cry you see in the movies. I place my fists in my eyes to hold the tears at bay, but it doesn’t work. It takes me a long while to regain my composure enough to speak.
“I’m so sorry, Patrick. I had my reasons,” she starts to explain.
“Please don’t make excuses for keeping my son from me. I don’t think anything in the world could justify that,” I tell her.
I see indignation cross her features as she stands up, “You have no idea why I would do such a thing. You think I wanted to keep that precious little boy from his father? You think so little of me that I would keep him away from you without a good reason?”
Now I stand up, getting equally as huffy as she is. “What reason could you possibly have that would warrant keeping my son from me?” I shout.
“Because I love you!” she yells back. Under normal circumstances, I would have been ecstatic to hear those words, but these aren’t normal circumstances, and I’m not in the right frame of mind. When I talked with God, I understood He had a plan and that this was it, but it didn’t mean I was ready to jump on board without a little understanding first.
“You said those words to me once, and I took them at face value. Then you left, never to contact me again!”
“It doesn’t make them any less true, Patrick. I didn’t marry Kiernan because I don’t love him. I love you! I still do, but I just wanted to keep you safe!” she shouts. I don’t think twice about what I do next, even though I probably should have.
I step into Ariella’s personal space and put my hand around her neck, pulling her close to me as my lips crash into hers. Her hands fist the back of my shirt as she tries to press her body flush against mine. I walk her backward until she’s butted up against the railing, our tongues continuing to duel. I feel her hand press against my chest, a sign to stop. I do as she silently requests and step back.
She’s about to say something when Alex comes barreling out of the back door with Savannah and Jessie close behind him.
When Ariella makes eye contact with Savannah, her face flushes out of embarrassment, and she apologizes profusely. “I’m so sorry, Patrick. I can’t let you do this,” she says and takes off in a run. I need to go after her, but Jessie beats me to it.
“I’ve got her. You handle this,” she says, motioning to Alex. Jessie goes after her, but catching up with Ariella might take some time. Jessie is quick, but Ariella is almost as fast as I am. I know Ariella can hold her own since we enjoyed plenty of morning runs together.
I look at Alex and smile. His eyes are full of joy, fear, wonder, and excitement. He doesn’t know what to do or whether or not he should approach me. I fall to one knee and hold out my arms. When he recognizes the gesture, he runs to me and throws his tiny arms around my neck.
I can’t express my joy knowing that the little boy in my arms is my son. My parents’ eyes also well with tears as they join in the hug.
“Does this mean I can call you Daddy now?” Alex asks cautiously.
I embrace him tightly, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Son.” I pick him up and sit on the swing while I hold him, my parents smiling at me the whole time but saying nothing. I think they’re soaking in the moment as much as I am. His arms never leave my neck, even though I hear him start to snore.
“He’s exhausted,” I tell my parents. I should get him to bed, but I don’t want to leave him alone. Jessie and Ariella left more than an hour ago, and typically, I would be worried that they hadn’t returned. Regardless of my confidence in Jessie’s abilities, I send a text asking for a quick status update. All I get back is a thumbs-up emoji, and I assume that Jessie is following Ariella but giving her the space she needs.
“He can sleep with me tonight,” I tell my parents.
“I think he needs that as much as you do. One of us will stay up to let Ariella know that he’s with you,” my mom tells me. “But Patrick, please take a shower before you crawl under my clean covers.”
I thought it would be a great idea for Alex to sleep with me last night, but I’ll have to rethink that in the future. Waking up without covers and an arm in my face wasn’t what I’d expected. Yet, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything in the world.
I nudge him, trying to wake him up. “Hey buddy, it’s time to wake up. We have a big day planned, building a snowman and shooting some guns.” He rolls over, continuing to snore softly.
I pick him up, still wrapped in the blanket, and carry him downstairs, where I gently lay him on the couch. I stand there and simply admire him, not understanding how I had been so blind. When I look at him now, it’s obvious that he’s mine. I shouldn’t have ever needed to ask the question.
