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“That girl. She’s got too much of her father’s wanderlust in her. She needs to start settling down.”
“I don’t see Faith ever settling down, Charity either for that matter.”
“Well, I get it. I sewed a lot of oats until I found my Jansen.”
“Mom if you start talking about sex this early in the day—”
“Bite me, Black. I swear I don’t know how I had such prudish children. I’m ignoring you now and talking to my little Hope.”
I hear more talking in the background, but Ida Sue must have moved, because I can’t really make any of it out.
“Listen, Aunt Ida, I can call later. I didn’t really—”
“Nonsense. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“How do you know something is wrong?” I ask, because everything is wrong, but I thought I was hiding that fact. I guess I was wrong.
“Please honey. What do you take me for? You sound so sad you sound like someone stole all your puppies and made curtains out of them.”
“Curtains?”
“I don’t have to make sense all the time. You get the gist. Now tell me what’s wrong?”
“I was actually looking for White?”
“He’s not here. He took Kayla to the doctor.”
“The doctor? Oh no, is she sick?”
“Knocked up. I think I overdid it on the fertility drinks with those two. She’s having triplets.”
“Oh my God! You’re kidding?”
“Nope. They have three kids already what with the adoption coming through. I think White’s aiming to beat Angelina Jolie in the how-many-kids-can-I-have category.”
“Wow. They’re going to need a bigger house.”
“That’s what I said,” she laughs. “Do you want me to have White call you?”
“Could you? I really need to talk with him about something.”
“I’ll do it, baby doll.”
“Thanks Aunt Ida, love you.”
“Come see me and bring Jack with you. I miss all of you girls, you make me feel closer to my brother.”
“I might surprise you,” I tell her, smiling.
“Promises, promises,” she chides, laughing as we hang up.
I’m left staring at the phone and praying White calls soon. I need to have answers for Aden when I tell him the truth. Maybe if he knows who he is and I can answer his questions he might not hate me.
I say that, but I know it’s hopeless.
He’s going to hate me.
forty-two
aden
“Who were you on the phone to?” I ask Hope when she hangs up.
She’s still lost somewhere in her head. She’s lying on the bed, staring at her phone and she’s looking like she’s lost her best friend. It’s a look I’m seeing more and more and I don’t like it.
“I called my Aunt Ida Sue. I wanted to talk to my cousin, White. He wasn’t there though.”
“He’s probably playing house with Kayla, like I want to with you,” I joke and lie down on the bed beside her.
“What did you say?” she asks, stiffening in my arms.
“I said he’s probably playing house with Kayla, like I want to with you,” I tell her pulling on her shirt.
“How did you know Kayla’s name?”
“What? I don’t know you must have told me. Honey, hold your arms up and help me here.”
“But I don’t think I told you, Aden. I don’t remember telling you at all.”
“Hope, you did. How else would I know?”
“Because you remember?” she says her voice panicking. “Is the past coming back to you?”
I stop for a minute and consider her words. Did I remember that. I think back and try to recall anything of my past and nothing comes. I frown.
“Nothing… the first real memory I have is waking up in the hospital with a hell of a headache.”
“But—”
“Honey, you told me all about your cousins, remember? I’m sure you mentioned Kayla’s name. What’s wrong with you, why are you so upset?”
“I’m not upset,” she denies immediately, but I know she is. You can tell it in everything she does, especially her posture.
“Babe. Spill. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” she mumbles and my response is to grunt—indicating my disbelief without bothering to call her on the lie. “Fine. If you’re remembering you should tell me. I deserve to know,” she mutters, refusing to look at me, but her fingers are tightened into the cover on the bed so violently that the skin on her knuckles are white.
“I’m not remembering. I would tell you if I was. You would be the first one I share that with—and not just because Jack is probably the only other human being I talk with.”
“Well—”
“And our son is many things, but—”
“I’ve been trying to talk to you about Jack. I tried before, but you didn’t listen. Aden he’s not—”
“Not very attentive when I talk,” I finish, shaking my head at her. She’s doing it again, trying to make an escape plan, trying to disengage our lives—creating an out.
It suddenly dawns on me why she’s so upset. I should have seen it before. I should have been prepared for it. Of course she’s worried I’m going to remember. She already doesn’t trust what we are with each other. She has to be scared that I will go back to being the same asshole who hurt her, treated her and Jack as if they were nothing more than an obligation, a bother. I’ve been trying to show her I can be a man she can depend on. A man she can be proud of, and all this time she’s been terrified I will change back into the man I was before.
