Page 68 of View With Your Heart

“Do you think Gee knows?”

“Gee has questions. He has the same name as the man—Gavin with a middle name of Scott. It’s a little obvious but maybe not to him. He seems to think it’s a strange coincidence. He’s not a baby, though, Aunt Britton, and it sucks to be a kid and wonder about the truth of things.”

Theo had been used by his mother against his father, and it gave them a tumultuous father-son relationship until Duke got custody of Theo when he was in his early teens.

“I don’t know how to tell him,” I admit to my seventeen-year-old nephew.

“You just tell him the truth. Be honest.” In all his youthful wisdom, he’s correct.

As the tea kettle whistles, I turn back to the kitchen and make two mugs of tea. Then I dress in warmer clothing and head to my front porch.

+ + +

Quietly, I sit next to Gavin, holding out the mug of tea for him. His head pops up to look at me, and he takes the tea from me. I keep my eyes on the dawn breaking over the lake. We remain silent for several minutes, uncertain where to start, uncertain what to say to one another.

“I messed up, Gavin, and I’m sorry.”

He huffs beside me, and I close my eyes. I’m not ready for us to only fight, as I’m certain that’s all we’ll do. My parents fought my entire life until they divorced that fateful summer. Even after that, they couldn’t have a civil conversation, and I counted down the minutes until I was eighteen and could make my own decisions about them. I don’t want to be like that with Gavin, but he’s angry and rightfully so.

“I wish you had called,” he whispers.

“Why?” I ask. It’s an honest enough question.

“Because I was so fucked up then, and I just fell in line with Zoey.”

I sigh. “You would have missed out on a dream, though. And she eventually led you to filmmaking.”

“I missed out on my son,” Gavin says tersely. “Maybe I would have pulled my shit together, tried harder to get back in the game like my dad said.”

“Did you really want to go back to the game?” He’s told me over and over again how he was done with the sport on that level. Gavin stares off at the lake while I turn and take in his profile. He’s such an incredibly good-looking man. His sharp nose. His angled cheekbones. His scruff-covered jaw.

“I might have,” he whispers.

“Or you might have, what? Come back here and married me? You would have hated that. You wanted to get out of this town. You were on the rise.”

“Who says we would have settled here?”

“I like it here,” I admit. “Either way, you had an inevitable accident, and if you didn’t have your future production company, what would you have?”

“A family,” Gavin huffs, startling me with his answer.

Gavin leans forward, resting his arms over his knees. He’s thoughtful a second before asking, “What do we do now?”

“I think first we introduce the idea to Gee. Let him guide us a bit. Let him say how and when he wants to see you.”

“What if he’s angry with you?” Gavin turns to me, a grim line to his lips.

“He doesn’t have a choice with me. I’m his mom.” Gee might be angry, but he’ll have to learn to live with it and get over it. Harboring anger takes a lot of energy, and I don’t recommend it.

“I wish I hadn’t had the choice taken from me about being his dad.” Gavin looks back toward the lake, and I absorb the sting of his words. He has a right to be upset, and I’ll take what he dishes for now.

“You can still be his dad. You’re his father.” I remind him. Gavin twists his lips and nods his head.

“Would have liked to have the choice to make my own decision about us, too,” he states.

“I don’t think we factor into this now,” I say, knowing that Gavin can never forgive me for what I’ve done, but we need to be adults if we are to share our son.

He turns his head in my direction, roaming along the side of my body. I’d like to say there’s heat in his eyes, but there isn’t. “I guess you’re right. About us.”