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Chapter Eighteen
Greta
“WOW.”
Bear stuck his key in the ignition but didn’t start the truck. “Wow?”
“That place was amazing, Bear.” I looked up at the sprawling building that was Hills Park Assisted living. “I worked in an assisted living back in Rockton, and it was nothing like this place.”
Hills Park was like an assisted living home built in a five-star hotel. They had a fountain and pond in the entry way that led to a huge stone fireplace with various chairs and sofas scattered around it.
Bear’s mom’s room was more than just a bed and place to go to the bathroom. I had been worried when we walked in that we were going to have to take all the decorations and furniture, but Bear told me it all belonged to Hills Park. When his mom had moved in, he opted for an already furnished unit and just had to bring the necessities for her.
I pulled out my phone and took a photo of the building.
“What are you doing?” Bear asked.
“I’m taking a picture so I can show it to my children. When I retire, my ass is going to be parked right here.” A furnished room, swanky digs all around me. Sign me the hell up.
“Mom did seem to like it here.”
I set my phone on the dash and laughed. “And I think everyone liked having her here. I don’t think one person didn’t come up to you to tell you how great of a woman she was.” I even got overwhelmed by everyone coming up to us. Bear and I were only in there for two hours, but I swear we had talked to at least a hundred people.
Bear had gone through her closet to grab a few pieces of clothing he knew she loved, then told the home to donate the rest to other residents or to charity. He had also grabbed a cuckoo clock, personal pictures, and any paper she had in her desk.
“Was that a picture of you on her desk?” I asked. I knew it was. Just like I knew all the pictures she had hanging around her room were Bear. I just didn’t want him to stop talking. I was worried if he stopped talking, I wouldn’t get him back.
Losing his mom was all still very fresh in his mind, and I didn’t want him to drown in his sorrow.
Bear nodded. “That was taken my freshman year of college.”
“It really isn’t fair how handsome you were, no matter how old you were.” I had gone through an awkward stage from the age of one to nineteen, while Bear was handsome from birth.
“I had some awkward times, mama. I just didn’t have any pictures taken during those times.”
I scoffed and hitched my thumb to the boxes in the backseat of the Bronco. “I do not believe you. Your mom was just as beautiful as you are handsome, so I know you’ve always been a hottie lumberjack.”
“Now that would have gotten a good laugh out of mom years ago. Every time you call me lumberjack, I can picture her cackling.”
“And why would that be?” I asked.
“She always thought I would either play in the NFL or be a lumberjack.”
“Stop,” I gasped. “She did not think that.” I could understand why she had, though. It had only taken me one look at Bear to think he was a lumberjack. His mom had pretty much birthed a lumberjack, so why not think he would become one?
“She did, mama.” He started the truck and backed out of his parking spot. “A shame she never got to know what I actually did.”
“You’ve never mentioned your dad,” I stated.
“Not anything to mention.”
I tipped my head to the side. Was he a deadbeat? Left before Bear was born?
“Mom went to a sperm bank, Greta. She had no idea who my dad was other than she picked a guy who was tall, muscular, and had an IQ over one fifty.”
You could have knocked me over with a damn feather. I had no idea what to say. You hear how people could go to a sperm bank and get pregnant, but I could say that I had never met anyone who had done that or a baby who had come out of it.
“You don’t have anything to say?” Bear drawled.
I shook my head. “I mean, your mom was a badass to go in, pick out her sperm donor, and then have you all by herself.”
Bear shrugged. “Never thought of it that way.” He huffed. “Never really thought about it much either way, though. It was always just me and my mom.”
I clamped my lips shut.
“What?” Bear laughed. “What is going on in that head of yours, mama? I know it’s gotta be some crazy shit.”
My mind ran rampant with all the possibilities of who Bear’s dad could be. “Have you ever wondered who your dad might be?” There, that didn’t sound too crazy.
“Probably some guy who was looking for a quick buck in college, mama. It wasn’t like my mom went to some ritzy sperm bank that served champagne while she browsed through binders with pictures of each donor and a huge run down of who they were.”
In my mind, that was how it happened. I didn’t like that he was trying to burst that bubble. “I’m sure she at least had some type of beverage with her.” A soda, at least.
“Greta,” he laughed.
“Let me live in my fantasy, Bear. Your mom got dressed up in her finest clothes, strapped on set of pearls, and went to the sperm bank with her best friends.”
He shook his head. “I don’t even think I could stop you right now, could I?”
Probably not. I was on a roll with this story in my head. “Ask me who I think your dad could be.”
“I don’t know if I am ready for this,” he drawled.
“Ask. Me,” I insisted.
Bear dropped a few miles before he finally gave in. “Tell who you think my dad could be.”
I turned in my seat and tucked my leg under me. “Jason. Momoa.”
He leveled his gaze on me. “He would have been a child, Greta.”
I tipped my head to the side. “Would he have been?” I pulled out my phone and did a quick Google search of his age. “So, you’re right. He would have been eleven, and I think that would be illegal. You are not the Aquaman’s baby.”
“You hungry?” he asked.
