Hugo intakes a sharp breath, clearly shocked by myintroduction.
I swing Joel’s arm into the air, trying to settle the nerves trembling through his little body. “Joel, this is your dad,” I say, my voice barely awhisper.
Hugo crouches down in front of Joel and offers him his hand to shake. My heart swells when Joel swats Hugo’s hand away and wraps his arms around Hugo’s neck.He’s always believed actions speak louder than words. Joel’s quick movements make Hugo stumble onto his knees in front of me, staining his jeans with dirty sludge andleftoversnow.
Tears prick my eyes when Hugo chuckles. “You’re a strong little thing,” he says, pulling Joel in nearer to hischest.
My tears threaten to fall when Joel pulls away from Hugo and clasps my hand in his while still holding Hugo’s, undoubtedly proving he is our little connection that will tether us together for eternity. I bite the inside of my cheek, refusing to relinquish my tears when I see nothing but sheer joy beaming from Joel’s expressive eyes. My simplest decision has given him the utmostpleasure.
Lifting my eyes to Hugo, I say, “Maybe after brunch, you could take Joel somewhere? Get to know him a littlebetter?”
Even though my tears have kept at bay, my rickety voice is giving away the surge of emotions flooding into me. I prayed for years for this exact moment to happen, and I can’t believe it is finallycomingtrue.
Joel’s eyes rocket to Hugo. His mouth is ajar, and his pupils are as large as saucers. “Will you?” he asks, excitement beaming outofhim.
A vast smile etches on Hugo’s face before he nods his head. Joel throws his fists into the air and squeals an ear-piercing scream, forcing an immature giggle to seep from my lips. Joel’s reaction alone verifies that my decision to include Hugo in his life was the right choice to make. He wants his dad in his life more thananything.
After running his hand over Joel’s crazy, ringlet curls, Hugo’s baby blues lock with mine. “Thank you,” he silently mouths. The gratefulness in his eyes adds strength to his simplestatement.
I gently smile and nod. I'd do anything in the world to ensure Joel is happy. Even if means I have to side with the man who broke my heart and shatteredmysoul.
“I’ll be just over there if you need me,” I inform Joel, pointing to Marvin standing at the side, watching the exchange between the three of us. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and he is giving us a poignantstare.
“Okay,” Joel says, wrapping his arms around my thigh. “I love you,Mommy.”
“I love you, too,” I reply, running my fingers through his ruffled hair, fixing it intoplace.
I’m not going to lie, walking away is one of the hardest things I’ve done. My heart is thrashing against my chest, and my eyes are crammed to the brims with tears. But the decisions I make aren’t just based on what I want anymore. Every decision affects Joel as well. He wants this, and he deserves this. Every child has the right to have their father in their lives. I just hope Hugo doesn’t break his heart. If he does, it won’t matter how much I still love him, I’ll never forgive him. That isunforgivable.
“This wasn’t part of our agreement,” Marvin sneers the instant I standbesidehim.
I intertwine my hands together and pivot around. A small smile tugs on my lips when I spot Joel showing Hugo his hidden finger trick Mrs. Mable has been teaching him since he was old enough to sit. It is nothing more than cupping your hands together and sticking your middle finger out and wriggling around, but Joel thinks it ismagic.
“Joel was never part of our deal, Marvin. Not once,” I retort, keeping my eyes on Joel and Hugo as they move to the back deck. “He ismyson and any decision I make regarding him falls solely onmyshoulders.”
The hairs on the nape of my neck prickle when Marvin leans into my side and snarls. “When Hugo vanishes for another five years and shattersyourson’s heart, don’t come cryingtome.”
After throwing a garden chair out of his way, Marvin storms down the driveway. I'd like to say this is the first time he has thrown a tantrum like a child, but, unfortunately, it isn’t. Perhaps that is why Marvin and Joel don’t see eye to eye. Marvin sees Joel as a competitor instead of an ally. If he was smart, he would realize my son is the key to obtaining my heart. Gaining his approval is the biggest hurdle any man will need to jump to secure my devotion. His failure to realize that proves he doesn’t know meatall.
Marvin slides into his red BMW convertible, throws the gearstick into reverse, and pulls out of the driveway like a bat out of hell. Tires squealing and the smell of burning rubber filters through the air. After rolling my eyes at his childish nature, my eyes return front and center. Marvin’s little spectacle has gained me a handful of spectators, including Hugo. His eyes have narrowed, and even from this distance, I can see his jaw muscle ticking. Thankfully, Joel is too enamored with Hugo to be paying any attention toMarvin.
I jump when an arm unexpectedly wraps around my shoulders. I don’t need to look up to know who is embracing me, her baked cookies and honeysuckle smell is all the indicationIneed.
“Sorry about that,” I apologize, raising my eyes to Mrs.Marshall’sface.
“It’s fine, Ava. I have five grand-babies. Believe me, I’ve handled much worse tantrums,” she replies, patting me on the shoulder with her translucent-skinnedhand.
A giggle bubbles up my chest and erupts from my mouth. Joel could give any kid a run for his money when it comes to chucking a tantrum – until three weeks ago. I never laughed so hard when he threw a wobbly in the middle of a department store because he wanted a new Spiderman toy. When I suggested he should wait until after Christmas, he dropped to the ground, kicked his legs and wailed. That isn’t the funny part of my story. It was when Mrs. Marshall replicated his tantrum, howling sobs and all, did I lose it. I’d never laughed so hard in my life. A nearly sixty-year-old lady on the ground thrashing her fists against the tiled floor in the middle of a bustling department store was more than Icouldbear.
Her weird tactics worked, though. In an instant, Joel’s tantrum stopped. His tear-soaked face popped off the floor, and he glared at his grandma, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. He looked utterly mortified. He’s never chucked a tantrum sincethatday.
“Maybe we should test your logic on curbing tantrums on Marvin?” I suggest, my lips pursing into a grin, vainly trying to portray I’m not embarrassed by Marvin’s childish antics, where in reality, I'mhumiliated.
Mrs. Marshall smiles a deviant grin. “The only thing that boy needs is a goodwalloping.”
I laugh. Marvin is the reason I’m making sure Joel is raised with morals. I do not want him to grow up to be spoiled little brat like Marvin. Although Joel will always be my baby, there is a big difference between coddling a child and just letting them be a brat. The biggest difference between Joel and Marvin is Joel knows the difference between right and wrong. Marvindoesn’t.
Mrs. Marshall firms her grip on my shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, Ava,” she whispers, her words full ofadmiration.
