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The color must have drained from my face, because my cheeks turned to ice with her words. “Matson is his son too?” I whispered, not believing that this could be happening. Why would he claim paternity now?
“Your father walked over and threatened to blow a hole in his head if he ever showed his face here again, and you know what Derek did?”
My stomach twisted and my head pounded because I didn’t know. I had no idea at all what could have happened after that. “What?”
“He laughed. He actually laughed. I think he respected being threatened.”
“Is Dad okay?”
“Other than wanting to follow through on the threat, yes. He’s fine. Just worried.”
“What do we do? He can’t just come into Matson’s life out of nowhere and expect to be his dad. It doesn’t work like that. Matson doesn’t even know who he is.”
“I know. We’ll figure it out, mija.”
“How?”
Suddenly, I was terrified. Would I lose Matson? Would I have to share him with the one person who’d disappointed me more than anyone else ever had?
Logically, I knew Derek had every right to know his son and be a part of his life, but emotionally, I wanted to be sure Matson was safe and protected. Was letting Derek in Matson’s life the best thing for my son? I had no way of knowing. The truth was that I didn’t know Derek anymore.
“It will be okay, Sofia.” My mom gripped my shoulder. “Now, go get your boy and take him home.”
I nodded, feeling numb, my movements robotic.
Derek coming back wasn’t something I’d ever considered. After his family disappeared from my life, I’d stopped thinking about them at all and moved on. Derek rarely crossed my mind, except on those rare occasions when Matson would look up at me with his familiar blue eyes, drawing back into some high-school time warp. Sadness rarely consumed me, and I never spent time reminiscing.
The only good thing Derek had ever given me was my son, and now he wanted to be in his life? After eight years? I wanted to throw up.
“Mama!”
Matson’s voice rang out as he jumped up from the carpet and ran toward me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed before I leaned over and hugged him, then peppered his face with kisses until he told me to stop, wiping them off with his hand.
“Don’t you wipe off my kisses,” I teased before kissing him again.
“I made you something,” he said, his eyes lighting up with pride, and I beamed back.
“You did? I can’t wait to see it.”
Matson
turned from me and ran toward the kitchen, blowing past my dad who had walked up to join us.
I stood up and smiled at him. “Hi, Dad.”
“Your mother tell you about the visit?” he asked, his tone wary.
I nodded. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet him myself.” I bit back a laugh as I tried to imagine my easygoing dad threatening Derek.
“Here, Mama.” Matson was back and thrust a paper toward my hands.
I reached for it and turned it around to check out the drawing he’d made. It was of me pushing him on the swings at the park in Venice. He’d written in blue crayon I love you Mom, and my eyes instantly welled up.
“You don’t like it?” His head tilted to one side.
I bent over again so we could be eye to eye. “I love it. It’s the most perfect picture I’ve ever seen. I love when you draw us together.”
“Thanks. Papa helped me draw the swings and get the waves just right.”
