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Reluctantly, he climbs out of bed and slides his shoes back on. He adjusts his crotch, and I ignore how hard he looks beneath the fabric.
Why, oh why was I raised to be a good, moral woman?
Walking toward the door, he stops and turns back to face me. “Give me time to sort out my life, Presley. I want you in it. I just need to fix the mess I’ve created.”
Those are his final words, and for me, tonight, it’s exactly what I need to hear—a promise of a future.
Twenty-Four
The next day, I get a surprise visit from Haden’s mom. Armed with a bag of wool and knitting needles, she insists I take a couple of hours off to do whatever the hell I want to do. At first, I’m reluctant. Masen is almost four weeks old, and I haven’t been away from him at all.
“I understand you feel conflicted. The first time I left Haden with my mother-in-law, I was a blubbering mess. It didn’t help that she was the wicked witch of the West. God rest her soul.” She raises her head toward the ceiling and makes the sign of the cross.
“How about I just go for an hour?”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with. If you need longer, please take longer. I just want to spend time with my grandson.”
I opt to feed him before heading out. It gives me the peace of mind I need, plus chatting with Mrs. Sadler keeps me entertained.
“Please, call me Liz.”
“Okay, Liz,” I hesitate, not sure why. “So, Haden tells me he has twin sisters. That must have been a handful.”
She continues to knit what appears to be booties, all the while managing to hold a conversation. “The girls weren’t as much of a handful as Haden. He was and still is strong-headed. Takes after his dad.”
“You’re telling me. I’ve met mules less stubborn than him.”
“He’s a good boy, it’s just…” she trails off for a moment before continuing, “His father’s death was hard on all of us, but it was Haden who took it the hardest.”
“Of course,” I mumble. “Boys need their dads.”
Looking down at Masen’s angelic face, I can’t imagine bestowing any pain on him. If I had my way, I would wrap him up in bubble wrap and protect him forever.
“Liz, I don’t know how you do it. The thought of my son going through any pain kills me.”
“Over time, you learn to let go, but only slightly. Haden shuts down and doesn’t allow anyone in. For a couple of years, I was a wreck, worried for his life. He was erratic and had no regard for his well-being. David kept telling me that he needed to grieve in his own way as well as grow up. He was young when the accident occurred.”
My heart breaks for Haden. It was too much for him to experience at such a young age, and so unfair that he was dealt that card. I love my dad so much and can’t even begin to understand the grief of losing a parent.
“You know, Presley, you’ve done wonders for my son.”
“For Haden? You must be mistaken. It’s not like that between us,” I stammer nervously.
She places her knitting needles on her lap. When she smiles, she looks exactly like Haden.
“Liz, both of us have had a lot of growing to do to be able to co-parent Masen, and even then, it’s only been four weeks.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t see what I do. My son adores you.”
With my eyes fixated on Masen, I speak solemnly, “He’s marrying Eloise. Things between us are far too complicated. Whatever happens, happens.”
“You know…” she adds, “… one thing I’ve learned about Haden is that he’ll never listen to anyone. Every decision he makes, he feels he has to own it, whether it be good or bad. Just be patient, Presley. Let him do what he needs to do, but in the end, I have faith that he’ll make the right decision.”
The decision he made to marry Eloise is still the million-dollar question with no answer. But just like Liz said, he owns his decisions, good or bad. When he was in London, we were practically strangers—if you ignore our midnight rendezvous. I didn’t know where his head was at or what his intentions were. Now, he seems completely different. He’s matured with the birth of his son, and deep down inside, I know he is a good man. He’s everything Liz said he is.
Our conversation leaves me with a lot to think about, so with a settled Masen, I grab my purse and kiss him goodbye. The second the door closes behind me, I burst into tears, overwhelmed by leaving him behind.
There are so many moments over the past four weeks when I just wanted a break, and now that I’ve finally got some time alone, I’m a blubbering mess. All I want to do is open that door, pull on my sweats, and never leave him again.
