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“It’s clear, Luna.”
She stares at me for a few more minutes and then stands back, opening the door to her home.
“Then, come on in. Might as well get this over with and see how it’s going to go,” she says.
I walk in thinking that’s not the most encouraging statement and this is definitely a rocky start. I’m not really a praying man. I think God probably gave up on me the minute I was born, but I send up a big prayer to the Man upstairs. I don’t want to mess this up. I need to be a part of my boy’s life. I can’t imagine never being able to be in his world. That one thought alone terrifies me as nothing else has. I want to be close to Joshua… I want in his life.
In both of their lives…
Gavin
“Mom said you didn’t know about me before you came back into town.”
“I didn’t,” I tell him, my body tense as Joshua studies me. I make a living out of reading people correctly and Joshua is full of anger and mistrust. It’s to be expected, but it still cuts like a damn knife. “Your mom tells me that you’re pretty damn good at throwing a football,” I respond, trying to steer the conversation into a safer category.
“I’m alright,” he says. “Did you play in school?”
“Me? Nah. The closest I got to football was coming to the games to watch your mom cheer,” I admit. “How do you like the pizza?” I ask, when he doesn’t respond, and the silence begins to feel suffocating.
“I don’t like sausage on my pizza.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Don’t see how you could since you don’t know anything about me,” he says, and his tone is hard.
“Joshua,” Luna admonishes.
“Just telling the truth, Mom.” He comes off indifferent.
“You don’t—”
“Luna, it’s fine. Joshua is right, I don’t know him, but I want to and if that’s going to happen, I need to learn what he likes and doesn’t like. Next time, I’ll make sure there’s no sausage,” I tell him.
“I don’t like mushrooms either,” he adds, watching me closely.
“I don’t either, I only put those on for your mom.”
“She likes all that veggie crap,” Joshua says, and there’s almost a hint of a smile. I don’t know why but just that small sign makes me feel like I won a war.
“Does she still like ketchup on her—”
“Eggs? Yeah it’s disgusting.”
“It is not.”
“Mom, it is,” Joshua laughs, and when he looks at his mom my chest tightens because I can clearly see the love my son has for his mom in his eyes ….
My son…
Just those words rock me to the core. He’s a good kid, too. I might have just gotten to spend time with him tonight, but I can tell that clearly the way he interacts with his mother. God, I missed out on so much. A wave of emotion so strong I can barely breathe moves over me, and I can feel it barreling through me.
“I… uh… I’m going to go get a refill on my coffee,” I announce, my voice thick with all of the emotions coming at me.
“I can get it for you,” Luna says and goes to stand. I wave her down.
“I’ll get it. Do you guys want anything while I’m in there?” I offer, observing them… they look so much alike, but I can see me in Joshua… I see my features appearing at the oddest times and I think… he’s got my nose… maybe my chin… definitely my height.
“Can I have another soda?” Joshua asks, but he’s looking at his mom for an answer. She nods yes and he grins at her. I’m jealous of that simple exchange because it portrays the fact that they are super close… a closeness that developed over all of the years I’ve been gone. Years during which I’ve been miserable and alone, missing Luna… missing out on so fucking much…
“Got it,” I say, avoiding eye contact with either of them. I don’t run out of the room, but I want to. I want to run and not stop until this ache and this pain subsides.
I’m just not sure it ever will…
Luna
Frowning, I watch Gavin go. I’m not sure what’s going on with him, but something changed.
“What was that about?” Joshua asks, proving my son is very observant for his age.
“I’m not sure,” I answer him honestly.
“Maybe he’s decided he doesn’t want a kid.”
“If he decides that, he’s not worth our time,” I tell him. “But I honestly don’t think that’s it, baby.”
“Whatever,” he mumbles.
“Are you doing okay?” I quiz him, wanting to see how he feels about everything.
“It’s weird, but he doesn’t seem like a bad guy… I’m not sure how I feel about him really. I’m not going to have to go stay with him and shit every weekend like some of my friends do when their parents got divorced, am I?”
