All the Waters of the Earth (Giving You ... #3) (29 page)

After I calmed down, we went back out.

When Jake told his mother that he had changed his mind and would not only accept the money, but also give two-thirds of it away to his siblings like she wanted, she looked ecstatic—or at least as much emotion as her face could show. It figured. I tried not to judge, but was unsuccessful.

I also tried to like her. But I didn’t. I felt sorry for her. I never wanted to find out what it was like to lose a son. Indeed, no one should have to experience that. The loss didn’t excuse her behavior, however. Before the death of her son, she’d been irresponsible and that seriously messed Jake up. All parents mess up their children. But this was beyond the pale.

And then their estrangement. Watching them interact, watching how she looked at Jake, I understood it now. It was just too painful for them to spend much time together. I think that they reminded each other of hard times, all of the poverty, all of the problems, and their tragic loss. She seemed so fearful that it would reoccur. To prevent getting hurt, she’d put up walls—living in a gated community, marrying a high-earning plastic surgeon, flitting about socially, protecting herself from the past. She seemed frozen, Botoxed, scared, thin, perfect.

Never calling her son. 

But it didn’t really work. Even in her fortress, she was still scared. And I hoped that I never did that. I hoped that I stayed curvy, creative, and
real
, not perfect. And a part of my son’s—and new child’s—life. Forever.

The rest of our visit was fine.

Fun, even.

We learned that Veronika had a wicked sense of humor, kicked butt in videogames, and was an all-around delight to be with.

Shawn was quieter, thoughtful. Jake pulled me aside at one point, telling me that it was uncanny how much he looked like Ethan. I think it was harder for Jake to be with Shawn than Veronika.

Jake reviewed the documents that his mother had her attorney prepare, and said that they were fine. He made a few changes, but signed them. And he told me that he would draft a trust for the money when we returned to California.

When he signed the papers, he turned to his mother and said, “I don’t live in fear any more, Mom. I have all that I need. I’m going to be fine.”

She didn’t say anything in response.

We said our goodbyes the next day. Jake had finally met his family. He hugged his siblings and his mother goodbye.

On the return trip in the plane, we held hands, not saying much.  Just processing the weekend. Seeing the waters of the Pacific Ocean, the waters of the Earth, I felt like we were coming home. 

When we got back, I tucked Rob into bed and then sat on the couch with Jake, talking quietly. My head was in his lap, and he gently stroked my arm, meditatively. All of the lights of the house were turned off, and we sat in the dark, enjoying the quiet.

“I realized something today,” he said, “during the flight. I told you that my childhood was shitty, and it was. But the thing about it is, it’s the past. I don’t have to dredge it up now, every chance that I get. I look around and see my girlfriend who I love, and her awesome son.  I have a baby on the way. I’m employed. I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, clean water, and I woke up in the morning. And I have a lot of joy doing my art. Counting my blessings.

“At some point, you move beyond your parents’ limitations. And part of being an adult is realizing that you aren’t blaming them anymore for what happened. The past happened, that’s all. Maybe it’s someone’s fault, but you can’t go back and change it. So why bother complaining about not being able to change something when it’s impossible?

“I think I was blaming them for not being able to live the life I wanted. I blamed them for everything: not being able to do my art, for all of the work I had to do to live, to go through school. For all of the crappy past.

“But I don’t need to blame them now. That’s old news.” He tilted his head. “It wasn’t my fault. My childhood wasn’t my fault. Growing up the way I did, I was just a kid. I did the best I could. Everyone did, I think.

“But I’m going to do it better for Roberto and for our baby.  And you and me.”

I sat my booty down in a cushy lawyer’s chair, in a cushy lawyer’s conference room, wearing a professional skirt suit and heels, feeling like the inside of my stomach was going to bubble up, exit my body, and keep going out of the building.

Time for family law mediation with Carlos.

This was just a negotiation
, I told myself. Amelia had told me this, too: It was voluntary. I could leave at any time. It was just to see if we could settle out of court. That would save time, money, heartache, and stress.

So, fine. I was here. I didn’t want to be here. But I was here. And I felt queasy from being pregnant and queasy from worry.

Looking around the room, I noticed the coffee that I shouldn’t have because of the pregnancy, bottles of water I didn’t want, because I already had to pee all the time, and assorted office supplies stacked neatly in the corner of a side table. In other words, nothing comforting present in the room. I felt so out of place. And alone.

Amelia had left the room to talk with the mediator and the other attorney in private. Carlos and his attorney had their own room, so at least I didn’t have to look at him. And I’d told Jake not to come.

Bad idea. I needed him.

No. “Need” wasn’t the right word. I was beyond needing anyone, except for Rob. I could deal with my life on my own.  I’d done so since I’d been pregnant with Roberto.

But I had come to a realization about Jake. Maybe it was a burgeoning trust that he wasn’t going to leave me.  I just knew that he wasn’t going to abandon me and our child the way that Carlos or his mother had. Maybe it was simply the comfort in understanding that I had someone with me for once, who had my back. Not the way my family and my friends supported me, but as a partner. I’d never had one before.  Since Jake was our neighbor, though, he’d snuck in. And I was keeping him.

Right now, he was tethered to me by my cell phone. And for once I didn’t begrudge his attachment to the thing.  I took comfort in the fact that his cell was an extension of his arm, attached to him at the palm. He’d promised that he would come immediately if I asked.

I absentmindedly turned the screen of my cell on and off. On and off. Waiting. Nervous. Bored. Tense.

Gah.

The door opened, and Amelia walked back in, looking brisk and professional. She had a knowing look on her face and sat down right next to me.

“Well?” I asked.

She paused. “You’re right that Carlos has a gambling problem. And that’s part of the reason why he’s seeking to avoid paying child support. He’s been searching for a quick fix to his money problems and keeps getting deeper and deeper in the hole. That’s part of what’s going on.  I’m glad we got those emergency orders docking his pay.”

“What’s the other part?”

“He’s going to have another child to support.”

Say what?

“What?”

“He’s been dating a cocktail waitress in Vegas. Apparently she’s pregnant, and he wants to marry her. She’s trying to get him to quit gambling. And he’s worried about paying for this child in addition to Roberto.”

“Oh, he’s a fucked-up mess.”

Amelia nodded. “Yes, but it looks like he wants to do this right with the new girlfriend. He wants to be a dad for real.”

Maybe.  I’d noticed Rob talking about Carlos more, which meant that Carlos had been spending more time with him.  Rob had a few more books from Carlos and even came home with a story about how his dad had taken him fishing on the pier and to an amusement park.

I’d noticed over the past few months that he had, indeed, tried more to be a father.  That said, twelve years of being a snake does not change in months.  But for now, I just looked at her, resisting putting a sassy hand on my hip.

Amelia looked back at me, thoughtful. “Lucy, I don’t trust him either. But I do get the sense that he really does want to behave differently with this new child. The way his attorney is talking, it feels very sincere.”

“Is he going to move to Vegas?”

“No. She’s going to move here.  So Rob is getting another sibling.”

Two siblings. We still hadn’t told Rob or anyone about my pregnancy, but now that it was getting near the end of the first trimester, we needed to do so. Jake had moved out of the unit next to mine and back into his house. But he didn’t live there. He lived with me and Rob.

We still hadn’t figured out what we were going to do. Living in limbo-land, he came home to me every night. He almost never went to his house. And while we’d talked about it, about what we were going to do, we hadn’t made any decisions.

Instead, we were just assembling evidence, so to speak, that we were together. Stringing together days and moments, I could look back and see the pattern of our relationship. Every night we were together, making love quietly. Every morning he woke me up with a hug and a kiss, before going for his run. Every afternoon, he’d either come by for lunch, bring me food, or meet me somewhere as a treat. He texted me in the middle of the day. He helped Rob with his homework. And while he stayed late at work sometimes, it wasn’t every night.

Yeah, Jake was amazing. I was in love with him. I didn’t know where it went from here, but being in the middle of this relationship was the best thing that had happened to me in twelve years.

“So what does he want from me? Does he really want more time with Rob? Or is this just a ploy to have to pay less in child support?”

“Both, I think,” answered Amelia.

The thing was, Jake and I had talked about strategy for this mediation. If I moved in with him and rented out my duplex, I wouldn’t need as much child support for Rob. But that was a super huge step, not just for our relationship, but also because I was Rob’s mom and moving him out of my house and into a boyfriend’s house wasn’t something that I was going to do without careful thought. Having Jake stay over? Well, that was a natural extension of him being my neighbor and staying over so much.  It didn’t require Rob to move everything out of his room.

“He wants to talk with you, Lucy.”

“I don’t want to talk with him,” I responded immediately.

“You don’t have to, and I already told them you wouldn’t want to. If you don’t talk to him, then we will go forward with the hearing, and we will bring up all of it—that his mom was watching Rob, that he took him to Vegas and left him in a hotel room by himself, all that.  But maybe talking to him is the way to finish this.  They’re threatening to bring in Jake for perjury and assault and battery.  They are threatening to take away Rob.  Talk to him.  You’ve got something to lose if you don’t.”

Ugh. Enough already.

“Fine,” I huffed. She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, fine, whatever. I’ll talk to Carlos.”  My reaction was to shut down and protect myself whenever he was around.  But I had serious stakes here that I could not afford to lose.  Neither could he.  And occasionally, we were civil to each other. 

I stood up and followed her out of the room, down the hall, to the conference room where Carlos was camped out.  She let me in and closed the door behind me so that I was alone with him. It was the same as the room that I was in, only mine was bigger and had a better view. That was oddly comforting.

“Lucy.” He stood up and crossed over to me, and I flinched. “Relax. I just want to talk to you.”

“So talk.”

“Rob’s a really great kid.”

“No thanks to you.”

He blew out a breath.  “Will you let me talk, please?”  Goddamn, Carlos said please.  I just stood and stared at him.  “I am getting to know Rob, and he’s a good kid.  Smart.  Real smart.”

“Thanks to me.”

“Fuck, Lucy.  Yes, thanks to you.  Can you take a compliment?”

Gah.  

He continued and looked sincere for once.  “I can’t afford it. I keep getting further and further in the hole.”

“That’s your problem—” but he interrupted me.

“Let me talk.”

“Fine.”

“Can you give me a break? I have a new kid on the way. A girl. Rob’s sister. And I don’t want to fuck it up this time. I fucked it up with you—”