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Devin got out of bed and put on a pair of jeans.
“Where are you going?” I asked, getting out of bed and following him down the hall toward the stairs.
“I’m going to watch television. The last thing I want to do is start an argument. We shouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“You’re running away,” I said in protest.
“You’re right, I am running away from a bloody fight,” he said, stopping and facing me. “Why can’t you see it my way for once? She got pregnant; she knew how I felt about it. Not once did I ever suggest I wanted a kid. She decided to have the child. Why do I have to be a father? I have my own life, and I want to live it in the way I choose. Just like she made her choice. I help pay for the kid’s needs, and I don’t mind that my parents are there for her. I’m not a monster. But that’s it. That’s my choice.”
“You are a Neanderthal. Why is it Natalie’s fault that she got pregnant? Why are you blaming her? Were you not there? Was this pregnancy by immaculate conception? Why don’t you take some responsibility?”
“I’m not blaming her!”
“You are so cavalier about all this. She wanted to keep the baby, and you wanted to get rid of it. Therefore, you’re done?”
“Do you want me to be her father, when I don’t want to be? Would that be better for her?”
Maybe he had a point, because right about now, I was convinced he’d be the worst father ever. Even so, I snapped, “Who do you think you’re talking to? Yes, of course I think it would be better for her. Devin, I’ve grown up without a dad. I know what it feels like to see your friends with their fathers and know that you don’t have one. He’s gone, and he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Just once when I was teenager, I wanted to have my dad get me from school and not my nanny. I wanted him to take me to soccer practice and cheer me on when I scored a goal. I wanted him to walk me down the aisle when I got married. That’s what I wanted, and that’s what Paige is going to want!”
I was crying, and it made me even angrier. Just once I wanted to be in control of my emotions.
Devin looked down at his bare feet. “I can’t do that for her,” he said bluntly.
“Why not? Why can’t you just be there for her?” I screamed. I was taking my frustrations out on him for my own loss, and when I realized it, I sank heavily to the floor. I could feel the echo of that Cortese breakdown again. Maybe therapy wasn’t the worst idea?
Devin came to my side and put his arms around me, rocking me back and forth.
“I just wanted my dad,” I said between sobs. “I just wanted him to be there for me when I graduated from university. Everyone had their parents there, and only Jess and Elizabeth were there for me. I knew that if my dad were alive, he would have been there. He would have been proud of me.” He held me tightly as I cried. “I saw the pictures,” I whispered. Pain was lodged in my voice.
“What pictures?” Devin asked, caressing my cheek.
“Of my dad when he died. When I was in Cortese, while you were on your suspension. I … Blake told me to look my dad up online. You know how I’ve never done that? Like something was blocking me? Maybe it was self-preservation because there’s so much online … photos …videos. I had a breakdown.”
His face contorted in shock and sympathy. “Right, those pictures. I know it was bad for you, but I didn’t realize it was that bad. You weren’t going to harm yourself?”
“No, nothing like that. I was just incapacitated, I guess.”
“Next time, I want to know when it happens, if anything sad happens, so I can be there for you. To help you through it. I don’t want you to ever think you’re alone.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened that day?”
Did I? Maybe I did. “Do you know what happens in these kinds of accidents?”
“What happens?” Devin asked, resting his cheek on my shoulder.
“Their brains swell, and they don’t look the way they used to. That’s why Mom wouldn’t let Rafe see our father in the hospital.” I spoke with a far-off look in my eyes. Devin carefully watched me, and I could tell that my behavior alarmed him. “He had a closed casket. I remember that. My mother and grandmother were sitting in the dining room and my mother was crying. She was telling my grandmother that she didn’t even recognize my dad when she reached the hospital. I remember my grandmother didn’t cry. I remember staring at the casket as my mother prayed before it. She was strong in public, she didn’t cry either, but when we went home, all she did was cry. I thought that if I prayed to God hard enough, he would bring my father back.
“You can be her father,” I said desperately. “You don’t have to be there for her all the time; she just needs to know that she has one. It’s not that hard. ”
“Yes, Luna,” he said.
“You could take her to soccer practice, or maybe she won’t like sports. Maybe she’ll like ballet or want to play a musical instrument. You could see her play the flute or something.”
“I could,” he said, smiling weakly.
I asked to see a photo of Paige, but Devin didn’t have one. He had nothing at all to link him to his own flesh and blood. The little girl lived in London with Natalie and spent several weeks in the summer with his parents. In a good year, he explained, he saw his daughter four or five times, including his mother’s birthday, Paige’s birthday, and a few other holidays. He provided Natalie with money to raise the child, which summed up his involvement in the girl’s life.
