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It was all happening so fast. I wasn’t upset about it, but it did give me some panic. The thought of being a father was both thrilling and petrifying. I had always been so sure of myself in the air, but this new role as a father had me questioning every move I made. It was new to me. I just hoped I didn’t screw it up. My baby wasn’t even the size of a peanut, but I loved him or her and wanted to do everything right for my child.
“What’s up with you?” Mark, one of the guys I work with asks. “You haven’t stopped smiling all day.”
I can't help but grin bigger. “I'm going to be a dad.”
“Congratulations,” he says, but it doesn’t really feel like he’s happy for me.
"Don’t be too happy for me,” I tease.
"All I can say is good luck," he says with a nonchalant shrug. "Kids are expensive. And a lot of work.”
"I appreciate the heads up, Mark," I reply with a chuckle, trying to shake off his less than enthusiastic response. Despite his warning, I couldn't dampen my excitement for this new chapter in my life. As I aimed the nail gun at the two by four, I found myself drifting into thoughts of what kind of parent I would be. Would I be strict like my own father, or more easygoing like my mother? The responsibility felt heavy on my shoulders, but the love swelling in my chest was undeniable.
“I’m not saying they aren’t a blessing,” Mark continues. “I’m just saying I’ve got four and it’s a lot of work. This job doesn’t exactly pay the best. If one of them gets sick, it's always a scramble to make ends meet. Just something to think about. Be happy. They are great, but a word of advice, think about it before you have another.
I nod, acknowledging Mark's words but not letting them overshadow the joy I felt at the thought of starting a family with Paige. “We’re not trying to have a litter,” I joke. “Just one. We’ll make it work.”
“I’m sure you will. Sorry to be a downer. I’m just stressed out. My oldest needs glasses and the youngest has been in and out of the doctor with some respiratory thing.”
“I get it,” I tell him. “I know you love your kids.”
“I do,” he sighs.
We both go back to work. The bubble of excitement I felt earlier bursts, replaced by a creeping sense of anxiety and apprehension. He's right, of course—kids are expensive. And with our current situation, I can't help but feel a wave of panic wash over me.
I can't access the rest of my savings without revealing our location. Our current income barely covers the basics. We need a bigger apartment, better paying jobs, and a stable future for our growing family. The reality of our situation hits me like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, I'm overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. We were barely surviving ourselves.
Babies were expensive.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts. I remind myself that other people have been in similar situations and made it work. I promised to protect her and our baby at all costs. There was no room for panic.
I may have lost my pilot's license and the comfortable pay that came with it, but I refuse to let that define me. I'll find a way to provide for my family, to give them the life they deserve. It won't be easy, but for them, I'll do whatever it takes.
I just don’t know how I’m going to do that while staying off the radar. I can’t go out and apply for a job that pays well with benefits. I’ve never done anything except fly. I could probably do something with planes, but that would require some actual paperwork and background checks.
I got an idea. “Hey Mark, do you know of any other jobs I could pick up?” I ask. “Like this one.”
He knew what I was asking. All the guys on the crew were dodging something. Whether it was the law, child support orders or immigration, we were all flying under the radar. That meant we didn’t get to demand great pay or anything else. We got paid at the end of the week in cash. We didn’t have bank accounts or credit cards. It was a way of living that I was not used to. It was a huge adjustment.
Mark looks at me for a moment, considering his words carefully. “You want to pick up some side work, huh?” he finally responds, his tone cautious. “I might know a guy who's looking for some help, but it's not reliable.”
“You’ve worked for him?”
“Yep,” he nods. “But I wouldn’t walk away at the end of the day without getting paid. He tends to forget you worked and then he doesn’t pay.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to mess with that,” I tell him. “If you hear of anything else, let me know.”
After a long day of busting my butt in the sun, I walk through the door of our apartment, I look forward to seeing her. She is the highlight of my day. Our lives are so simple. I don’t care that we aren’t eating steaks every night. Stripping away all the noise left just the two of us. We had no choice but to get to know each other. I felt like I knew every detail about her and vice versa. She was my other half.
“Paige?” I call out, popping my head into our bedroom.
It's strange. She's always home by now. She goes in early for her shift at the restaurant and is usually home by three or four in the afternoon. I tell myself she must be out running errands, losing track of time as she tends to do. I take off my work boots and go take a shower, expecting her to be home when I get out.
When I get out of the shower, she’s still not home. I call her phone, but she doesn’t answer. A sense of unease begins to gnaw at me. I try to shake it off, to convince myself that there must be a simple explanation for her absence. But deep down, I know something isn't right. I can feel it.
I quickly dress, pulling on my hat and shoes and make my way to the restaurant where she works, hoping to find her working a double shift.
I see the manager, a guy that’s kind of a dick, but he pays daily and that’s what matters. "She cut out of here fifteen minutes early,” he mutters. “That was her one warning. Let her know.”
