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“The report you wanted has arrived,” he says.
For a second there, I have no idea what he’s talking about. Then it comes to me, and I slap my forehead. So much has happened since I asked for a background check on Mila’s ex that I completely forgot about it. “Oh, yes? What does it say?” I ask him.
“Your man’s clean,” he says, and relief floods me. I have enough on my plate without having to deal with an ex who has a criminal past. I feel safer.
An idea comes to me then, and I feel terribly disloyal, especially after what Mila has done for us. But I really need to know that I’m not placing my son in danger. A nanny is one thing, but bringing Mila semi-permanently into our home is a whole different thing. For one, as my wife and Isaac’s stepmom, she would get certain rights, and that thought brings out a cold sweat.
“Thanks, man,” I tell Collins. I fumble as I search for words to say what I want. “I’m sorry to be a pain, but I need a check on one more person,” I say, speaking in a low voice.
“Sure man, anything,” Collins says.
“I want you to run a check on Mila,” I tell him.
He grins. “On it.” He claps my shoulder. “Never feel bad for trying to keep your boy safe.”
“Thanks,” I mumble and start the car. I feel soiled and want to get away from here. Mila would be devastated if she knew that at that very moment, I had given my friend the go-ahead to do a background check on her.
During practice, my concentration is off. I keep looking around expecting Brenda to pop out of nowhere, though Mila told me she hadn’t asked about Isaac once. She’s not likely to come looking for him. When Brenda walked out of our lives, she was done with us for good. She’d probably have stayed away if her new husband had not decided he wanted an heir. She left and did not look back once.
After practice and dropping off Thomas, I decided to throw out feelers and see how Isaac would take to my marrying Mila.
“What do you think of Mila?” I ask him, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. He smiles, and that warms my heart.
“I love her.”
The simple words make me breathless for a few seconds. It’s as simple as that for Isaac. He loves her. No games or playing around. I wish adults were this honest and clear about their feelings.
“I asked her to marry me,” I say.
Isaac’s face lights up. “Really? Like she gets to live with us all the time and become my mom?”
Guilt floods me, and I question this whole thing. What happens when our fake marriage is over? Will it be fair to Isaac to have him attached to her, and then she leaves? On the other hand, I can’t not tell him that Mila and I are getting married. People will have to know. From what my attorney told me, the courts will appoint an evaluator whose work it will be to ascertain how fit my home is for Isaac. So, Isaac has to know that Mila and I are married. I wish there were another way.
“Yes,” I finally tell Isaac. “Mila will be your stepmom.”
“Cool,” he says in a voice filled with awe as if I’ve promised him a new toy.
I take that opportunity to ask him about Brenda. “Do you miss Mom?”
The smile leaves his face, and he looks out the window. I stop the car and pull over to the side. Removing my seatbelt, I turn to him.
“Hey.”
He looks at me, and my chest pains at the tears in his eyes.
“I don’t remember her, Dad, and that makes me sad,” Isaac says. A part of me is relieved. I’d thought that he missed his mother every minute of the day. I’ve had nightmares of Isaac crying himself to sleep from missing his mother.
“You were really little when she left,” I tell him.
“What if she came back and I don’t recognize her?” he says.
“She would recognize you, though,” I tell him. “If you want to remember her face, you can look at the picture on the living room wall.”
He looks away. It has not escaped my notice over the years that Isaac rarely looks at the picture. He doesn’t comment on that, and I don’t push it.
“Would you like her to come and visit you?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
All breath leaves my lungs. I’ve tried to portray Brenda in a good light, telling Isaac that his mom had to leave us because she had a new job.
“You don’t know if you’d like to see Mom?”
“She left us, Dad. She didn’t like us anymore. I don’t like her either.” He crosses his little arms over his chest.
