Page 46 of Silver Brewer

Giant’s face wrinkles in disgust, and I interject. “We’re only having a cup of coffee, and then I’m going to show Giant the city.” He claims he’s been here once or twice, but he’ll see it through new eyes with me as his guide. Navy Pier is our first stop.

While I’m hoping to escape Hudson, I can’t escape my mother or Uncle Frank.

“Cassandra Pierson, meet George Harrington.” Giant doesn’t correct his name when he meets my mother and the Southern charm pours off him.

“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Mom is easily impressed. My mother is a smaller woman with bleach-blond hair to cover all the grays, cut in a sharp bob coming to her chin. She wears a surprised smile while she shakes Giant’s large hand.

“George Harrington,” Uncle Frank interjects. “Your name sounds familiar.” He pauses a moment. Frank is your typical Italian-looking mafia man minus the mafia. He’s loud and brutally frank. “You’re quite the big guy, aren’t you?” Frank makes a muscle with his arm and aims it toward Giant as if he should be impressed. Then Frank realizes something. “You’re that property we lost.” Frank’s eyes shift to me and back to Giant.

“Actually, I wasn’t lost. Letty found me,” Giant murmurs, tugging me into his side once again.

“Damn shame. Olivet, here, cost us a big deal,” Frank continues, ignoring Giant’s attempts to be sweet and lessen the awkwardness. My eyes close a second, but Giant gives me another squeeze. Please don’t blurt out the dollar amount, I whisper in my head as Frank is famous for oversharing.

“Some things are more important than making a deal, sir,” Giant corrects.

“Like what?” Frank scoffs, and Giant’s mouth opens again to speak, but my mother steps in.

“Now Frank. It wasn’t her fault. You know she only had one thing on her mind.” My mother turns to me, and I hold my breath. Oh God,she wouldn’t. “The baby.”

Giant stiffens at my side, and it’s my turn to clutch at him. My fingers fist in the back of his shirt.

“Right, another foolish idea of yours,” Uncle Frank agrees. He shakes his head and looks up at Giant. “What do you think of this baby business? Adoption.” He scoffs as though it’s a dirty word.

“I think Letty can do whatever she pleases, sir,” Giant says, surprising all of us. Mom’s brows rise while Frank crosses his arms.

“Indeed,” he says, like the British man he’s not. He doesn’t agree one bit with Giant’s assessment. In fact, he disagrees wholeheartedly as does my mother.

“It was a pleasure to meet both of you. If you don’t mind, I need some coffee. I don’t function well without it,” Giant mutters, his voice struggling to remain level instead of rough. He’s saving all of us from an awkward confrontation. My mother laughs, agreeing that coffee is a necessity in life, and points us in the direction of the carafes on the buffet. I follow Giant who has released his hold on me.

“Please let me explain,” I mutter through tight teeth as I come up next to him while he pours a cup. He offers it to me.

“Oh, I intend to hear every bit of this story,” he hisses, and the rugged edge to his tone returns.

+ + +

After taking an Uber to Navy Pier, we begin a leisurely saunter along the old Naval pier. Restaurants line one side until the carousel while the right side is open to the lake—reminiscent of an ancient shipping dock. As we stroll, I feel as if I’m doing the walk of shame, minus the sex and last night’s clothing, but I have nothing to be ashamed of. I jump right in.

“It all started with Hudson. We weren’t really going anywhere, and I think in my heart of hearts, I knew we would never marry. I wasn’t in a rush until, suddenly, I was. I wanted a baby when I hadn’t really entertained the idea beforehand. Because a baby solves everything,” I mock myself. “Hudson didn’t want children. When he finally told me he never had any intention of us marrying, something snapped.”

I swallow back the pain. Not at losing Hudson but at the cruelty of what he did. He made me false promises. I brush a hand through my hair even as it continues to blow forward in the wind. Giant walks with his hands in his jacket pockets. It’s a brisk day for October. There’s more gloom than sunshine, and the cloud cover presses down on me like this history.

“I’m forty, and I didn’t see the prospect of getting married to anyone else. The loss of Hudson was more than losing a man. A worthless man, I might add. I lost a dream, or so I thought. Marcus and his partner had begun trying to adopt, and it sparked the idea I could do it on my own. I needed this for me.”

I keep my eyes forward, not risking a glance at Giant, fearing his judgment like all the rest of my family.

This is insanity. You can’t raise a child alone, my mother said even though she’d done the very thing herself. Then again, my uncle stepped in to help her out. Where was the family loyalty when it came to this decision for me?

“In vitro with sperm implants seemed too complicated and a risk at my age. I’m not too old to have a child, but I didn’t want to wait for things to take. It could have taken months or years, which I don’t have. There are so many children who need a parent now, and adoption seemed more immediate…” My voice drifts as I recall all the babies I’ve seen in and out of the Bundle, a private adoption agency on the Northshore. “I just wanted someone…for me.”

I blink away the tears. My sister is on her second marriage. She has three growing sons she hardly deserves. Did I mention the irony that Hudson hates children? It didn’t seem fair some days, but I don’t want to be jealous. I don’t want what she has. A superficial first marriage. A business arranged second one. Empty relationships with her sons.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His rugged voice is full of sympathy instead of anger, and it’s almost worse. I don’t want pity. I want someone to be excited for me.

I shrug. “It isn’t something I could easily bring up. Hey, while you teach me to throw an ax, I wanted to tell you I’m adopting a baby.”

He snorts, and I look over at him. He squints into the distance before us. “So when do you get the baby?”

“I don’t, actually.” I swallow the lump in my throat. I’d been passed up again right before I went to Georgia. Maybe it’s another reason I did what I did. The spontaneity of a trip. The uninhibited sex with a stranger. The total release of all the hurt feelings inside me. He turns to peer down at me.