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"Yay! Yay! Yay! We never do playdates! I love Hudson!" I couldn't help but smile at his happiness. He's right. We should do this more often.
We got into the car, and I started driving home. Eli chattered away about his day, and I listened with a smile on my face. He told me about his friends, his teacher, and the games they played at recess. I was so happy to see him happy.
When we got home, we unloaded his backpack and reloaded with a few drinks and snacks for the playground. In anticipation for my chat with Catherine, I went into my jewellery box to fetch something. I think I was looking more forward to this playdate than Hudson was.
However, just one question shattered my fragile bubble of happiness.
I never thought I'd have to explain to my six-year-old son that the man who I had been yelling with a few days ago was his father. I could tell he already suspected it, and he just wanted me to confirm it.
I dodged the question until we got to the playground near our house. We were a little early, so we sat side-by-side on the swings. A few dried leaves blew past us. The sun was weak, close to the horizon. A squirrel ran past us on the mulched ground.
I knew I’d always remember every detail from that moment.
"Mommy, who was that man the other day? Why was he yelling at you?" Eli asked, his voice filled with concern.
I took the deepest breath my lungs would allow.
“His name is Jack,” I said, searching quickly for the right words. I turned to Eli, who was already staring at me. “And, Eli, I have something to tell you about Jack. Jack is… your father.” There. I said it.
"My father?" Eli repeated, looking at me with confusion.
"Yes, Jack is your dad," I confirmed.
Eli's eyes widened as he took in the news.
"But why was he yelling at you?"
Oh boy. Another deep breath.
“Jack and I were together a long time ago–before you were born. Things didn’t quite work out between us. We get angry sometimes when we see each other because of that.”
“But he’s my dad?” Eli asked, almost to himself.
“Yes, he is,” I said softly, staring at the ground now.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. I could feel my emotions swirling inside me, a mixture of anger, hurt, confusion, and maybe jealousy for what might be coming. It hurt to see the confusion on my son's face as he tried to process the news. I knew that telling him about Jack was the right thing to do, but it didn't make it any easier.
"I want to know what it feels like to have a father," Eli said suddenly, breaking the silence.
My heart constricted in my chest.
"What do you mean, honey?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"Can I meet Jack?” Eli asked, his voice filled with a yearning that made my heart ache.
I knew I couldn't deny my son's desire to know his father, but the thought of sharing him with Jack, of watching him grow closer to someone who had hurt me so deeply, was almost unbearable. My body tensed at the thought of Eli wanting to spend more time with Jack, not me.
“I want to meet Jack,” Eli said again with more conviction. “Please, Mom?” He could sense my hesitation.
I tried to hide the hurt in my voice as I answered him.
"Of course, Eli. You can meet Jack.”
"I just want to know what it feels like to have a dad," Eli said softly.
I turned to look at him, taking in the sadness in his eyes.
"I know, honey. And you deserve to have that," I said, reaching out to take his hand.
