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“I’ve never been the type of guy to force a woman to do anything,” I growl, interrupting her before she could argue her reasoning. “You know me better than that.”
“I don’t know you at all, but you’ve forced me to come here.”
“I instructed you to bring the boys, per Janet and Carlen’s request.”
“And if I plan to leave tomorrow?”
“The kids stay,” I answer without hesitation. “All of them.”
“So, you’re forcing me to stay here? Right after saying you don’t force anything on a woman?” She scoffs.
“I’m not letting you take off with my kid.”
“And I’d never leave her so long as there’s breath in my lungs.”
I take a deep breath. There’s a part of me that’s relieved she’s so fiercely dedicated to our daughter, although I know her stubborn streak will most definitely cause some strife in the days to come.
I take a deep breath, needing to switch gears. As annoyed and angry as I am, there’s not a single thing that can be done about decisions made in the past.
“I know you were too young to be listed as the boys’ guardian, but I’m curious why your mother wasn’t.”
She swallows, her eyes filling with unshed tears.
“You remember her calling you Roger at the funeral?”
I nod, unease threatening inside of me.
“She has dementia.”
My gut clenches.
“She’s in a nursing home.” A silent sob escapes past her lips. “She didn’t even know it was her daughter, Janet’s, funeral we attended.”
“That sucks,” I say, wishing I could’ve found something a little more eloquent, but the sentiment is still the same.
“Janet and Carlen had her living with them for a while, but she kept leaving the house and wandering the street. Welfare services were called, and they were strongly urged to put her somewhere she could be monitored twenty-four-seven. It broke Janet’s heart to realize it was just too much for her to handle.”
I want to reach out for her, but I maintain my distance.
“Carlen never called and told me they were struggling so much,” I say, but it feels shitty to put any level of blame on the dead.
“I had a falling out with Janet a year ago. It was so petty that I can’t even remember what started the argument, but we hadn’t spoken in so long, I had no idea what they were doing,” she explains. “I don’t know if they alienated me on purpose so I wouldn’t butt into their business or what. I don’t know if it was Carlen losing his job or the cost of Mom’s healthcare that put them so far in the hole that they have so many disconnect notices going to their house. I don’t know if they started making drugs to catch up financially or if they were forced to make drugs by Keres. I know nothing, and it kills me that they were struggling so hard and didn’t call me either.”
I remain silent because I don’t know that there’s much more to say at this point.
“We can’t stay in St. Louis,” I say eventually.
“I don’t expect you to be involved—”
I hold my hand up, grinding my teeth so hard my jaw starts to ache.
“I will not walk away from my child,” I assure her, trying to hedge any arguments before they can even start.
“I didn’t figure you would,” she whispers, her eyes locked on her hands.
I want to rage and yell. If she didn’t figure I would walk away, then why the hell did I have to find out this way rather than the day she found out she was pregnant.
On the other hand, I’m in a different place in my life than I was two years ago. I was still in the Corps then, not in any position to physically be there for a kid.
