Young Truths (Young Series) (19 page)

“Your father?” Watts asks, glancing down at his notepad. “That would be... Paul Young.”

I nod. “Yes.”

“And the calls?”

I shrug uncertainly. “She started calling a week or so ago, left me a message asking me to call her back and said that it was important. I didn’t call her back until the other day and she didn’t answer,” I say honestly.

“No idea why she would call you out of the blue like that?”

“No. She and I aren’t friends. The only reason she’s even in my life in any capacity is because she works for my father.” They sigh and make some notes, asking me a few more questions about recent interactions with Lucy. “Look, the last time I saw her was last summer at my father’s barbeque,” I tell them. “We had a brief conversation and that was the end of it.”

“Right,” Watts says. “If we have any further questions, we can contact you at your office, I assume?”

Though I’m tempted to tell them no, that I want no involvement in whatever drama is happening now, I don’t think they’re actually asking my permission. Reaching into my wallet, I hand them a business card. “Anything else?” I ask evenly, my eyes darting over to the maternity ward entrance where my mother and Tyler have just entered.

“Not at the moment. We appreciate your time, Mr. Young. And again, congratulations on your daughter,” Sedler says before they depart.

I turn to Marcus. “What the fuck is going on around here?” I ask quietly.

Marcus shakes his head, watching the detectives leave. “I don’t know. I’ll look into it, though,” he replies. “Get back to your family. I’ll call you this afternoon before I have the baby stuff delivered.”

“Well, good morning,” my mother says brightly as she and Tyler reach me. Marcus and I say goodbye, and I quickly plaster a smile on my face that isn’t completely fake.

“Good morning to you,” I reply, kissing my mother’s cheek and reaching down to pick up Tyler and hugging him. “How was your night?”

My mother rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Someone was up at the crack of dawn insisting we get back here lest we miss seeing the baby. I then spent all of breakfast explaining to him that the baby will be going home to live with you. Apparently he was under the impression that once the baby is born, she’ll go to live elsewhere,” she says, raising an eyebrow at me. “If I remember correctly, you had similar beliefs when Claire was born.”

I laugh, ruffling my son’s hair. “We’ll sort it out,” I promise my mother, snickering. “Would you like to come meet your granddaughter?”

When we enter Samantha’s hospital room, she and Claire are busy laughing about something and my sister is holding my daughter. I raise an eyebrow at her. “I’ve had her for five minutes,” Claire insists, handing her over to me. “Samantha said it was okay.”

I snort a laugh and bend to kiss my wife. “I brought more visitors,” I tell her, sitting beside her bed. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Tyler is already climbing up on her bed for a hug as my mother approaches to greet her with a hug and kiss of her own. “Is that the baby?” Tyler asks interestedly, leaning over Samantha to get a better look.

“Yes, this is your baby sister, Ty,” I say. Claire stands up to move Tyler from the bed to her chair so he can see Olivia. “This is Olivia.”

Tyler cocks his head to the side slightly, studying the baby. “She’s all pruny like when I’m in the bathtub too long,” he comments, making us laugh. “And she’s really small.”

“You were much smaller,” Samantha tells him. “Probably half her size when you were born.”

His eyes widen as though he can’t comprehend anyone being that small. “Can I hold her?”

I freeze. I don’t want to deny my son anything, but I’m not sure I want him holding Olivia. Glancing up, Claire, Samantha, and my mother are watching me expectantly as though it’s the most natural thing in the world for a father to hand his newborn daughter to his seven-year-old son. I try to remember if my parents let me hold Claire when she was first born—memory says yes, and I think I might have dropped her.

“Matt, it’s fine,” Samantha insists. “Tyler, sit way back in your chair and hold your arms like this.” She mimics holding a baby and Tyler immediately does the same. Samantha then looks at me with raised eyebrows as though she’s asking what it is I’m waiting for.

Sighing, I turn towards Tyler, placing the baby gently in his arms so that most of her weight is resting on his legs. For a moment, I remain close in case Tyler can’t support her, but after a moment, I lean back a little, watching in wonder as my son cradles his baby sister in his arms. He’s smiling a little and Olivia’s eyes open a crack as he bends a little to press a tiny kiss to her forehead. Smiling, I look over at Samantha who is beaming even with tears falling from her eyes. “What do you think of her, Ty?” I ask quietly.

He looks up briefly, grinning. “I like her,” he says matter-of-factly. “We can keep her.”

I snort a laugh. “Thank you for your permission, kind sir,” I say sarcastically. “But I’m not sure you had a vote.”

Tyler only shrugs, returning his attention to Olivia. We watch them for a few minutes before Tyler’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “She smells,” he informs me. “You can have her.”

With a laugh, I take Olivia from him. “You know, son, you’re going to have to learn to change diapers at some point,” I say wisely, knowing exactly how my words will be received by my wife. The first time I ever changed a baby’s diaper, I was forced into it by my wife and a NICU nurse. It was a complete failure that I’ve yet to live down. “Might as well learn now.”

Tyler shakes his head hard. “That’s gross. I’m not doing that.”

“Big words coming from you, Young,” Samantha says behind me as I begin to change Olivia’s diaper. At least this time I know it’s unlikely that my child will pee on me. “I think it took you half a dozen tries with Tyler before you figured it out. And that was only because Leo helped you.”

I stiffen as I exchange dirty diaper for a clean one. It’s been a while since anyone has casually mentioned Leo in conversation and I certainly wasn’t expecting it today of all days. Behind me, I know Samantha is looking between me and Claire, inwardly cursing herself. Taking a deep breath, I throw her a smile over my shoulder. “He looked up how to do it on a YouTube video,” I inform her. “And it’s amazing the sort of stuff we saw when we searched ‘diaper changing’. “ I shudder for effect, finishing up with Olivia’s diaper much more quickly than I did the first time I changed Tyler’s. I wrap her back in her blanket and kiss her little forehead before turning back to my family, holding her up to prove I’ve done it right.

Samantha gives me an apologetic smile and I wink at her, placing Olivia back in her arms. “Sorry,” she whispers as I bend to kiss her. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I murmur. “Really.”

She still seems uncertain, but thankfully lets the subject drop. As much as I want to remain at her side right now, Tyler’s attention is waning and I believed I promised to take him out for the day, just the two of us. Part of me wants to say Tyler can wait a couple days, but that is the sort of attitude that will leave him thinking we love the baby more than we love him. And that is unacceptable.

“You’ll be okay?” I ask Samantha when I remind her of my plans. “I can stay if you need me...”

Smiling, she shakes her head. “Take Tyler out. Have fun. I’ve got plenty of company.”

I’m still hesitant, though, despite the insistences from my mother and sister that Samantha really is fine. “Okay,” I finally say, holding my hands up in surrender after Claire threatens certain parts of my anatomy if I don’t leave soon. “We’re going.” I grin a little when Tyler jumps onto my back, locking his arms around my neck. “Call if you need me to come back.”

“I will,” Samantha promises.

After pressing a kiss to her lips, then to Olivia’s forehead, Tyler and I head out. I haven’t made any real plans for this day, but when I ask Tyler what he wants to do, he immediately responds with the arcade a few towns over, proving without a shadow of a doubt he is my son. I’m trying not to think about the visit from the detectives this morning or about Lucy missing. I don’t know anything about it which means it’s none of my business. Deep down, though, I know this isn’t going away and before it’s over, I’m probably going to be far more involved than I want to be.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I’ve lost track of how many times Leo has asked me this question in the last two days alone and I still don’t have an answer for him. This could go one of two ways: it could be the best thing to help me move on or it could destroy all the progress I’ve made in the last two years. Even to me it seems like too much, too stalker-ish, which is probably why I haven’t actually followed through until now. Regardless of what it does to me, I need to do this, not only for me, but for them. I need to know they’re okay and whole and happy, even though I’m none of the above.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” I mutter in Leo’s direction, not looking at him as I head out of the hotel. “In the meantime, I need you to make a couple phone calls to check the status of the autopilot system. If it’s not perfect, we’re going to be laughed out of the boardroom on Friday.”

He nods, still looking concerned. “You got it. Give me a call if you need me.”

Giving him a tight smile, I begin my walk through the streets of Omaha with no idea where it is I’m headed. The information I’ve been given tells me I’m not far from their house and while I’m not entirely certain what I’m going to do if I do manage to find them, that’s enough to start off with. Claire sent me some photos of them a couple weeks ago and seeing them was at once like a breath of fresh air and a stab to the heart. I could plainly see the pain in her eyes regardless of the smile on her lips. It’s the same pain I’ve been feeling since I watched her leave me and I hate that she’s going through that. I’ve tried to minimize her feelings, reminding myself it was her decision to go, but when it comes down to it, I know if I’d only asked her to stay, she would have done so in a heartbeat. Instead, I tried to tell myself I didn’t need her and if she really wanted to leave, nothing I could do would change her mind. I’ve never been so wrong in my life. I need her more than I’ve ever needed anyone else and I didn’t even realize it until she was gone.

And Tyler... I cannot believe how much he looks like me even at three years old. As though it was yesterday, I remember seeing him for the first time in the NICU and later telling Samantha that he was perfect despite his tiny size and all the medical equipment attached to him. That still holds true—he’s absolutely perfect. I need to see him in person, see him walking and talking and smiling and laughing. He was only one when he left me so I can’t imagine he’d be suffering through missing me, if he even remembers me, which, sadly is rather unlikely.

Walking down a brick street appropriately titled Old Market that is surrounded by buildings that are probably a hundred years old, I falter in my steps when I hear a very familiar laugh. It’s one I haven’t heard since I first met Samantha, one that has a wistful quality to it. There is no way it could be this easy to find her. I’ve barely walked a few blocks...

I approach a small café with outdoor seating and I cannot believe my luck. She’s here, right in front of me, sitting across from another woman as they chat and eat their lunch. I can’t stop staring and I don’t even register the annoyed people who are forced to walk around me as I stand stalk still. She looks incredible, even though one quick scan of her tells me she’s lost quite a bit of weight since I last saw her. She’s pale, too pale, and her hair is dull and lifeless. I wonder if I’ve gone through similar changes since we broke up and if people see my sadness as plainly as I can see hers.

Quickly, I cross the street, careful to stay out of her line of sight as I enter a little coffee house and take a table by the window, my eyes never leaving Samantha for more than a couple seconds in case she leaves. My breath is caught in my throat when I spot a little boy sitting at the table with Samantha and her friend. My son. Pictures only do so much to show you how a person looks. They don’t catch all the little mannerisms or the sound of laughter or the brightness of someone’s eyes. I watch from a distance as Samantha reaches over to cut something on Tyler’s plate, all the while continuing her conversation. It’s clear even from here that Tyler adores his mother completely and the feeling is unsurprisingly mutual for her.

I want to run across that street, sweep them both into my arms, and never let them go again. But I can’t. And I don’t. I don’t want to make things harder on Samantha or myself. My intention when I came out here was to just watch. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to not do anything more than that when I actually found them. Tyler seems content as can be, as he should. Samantha, though... Over the years we were together, I’d gotten to know her better than she knew herself, and I’ve never seen a person fake happiness as well as she could. I thought I’d gotten her past that stage in her life which had become one of her defense mechanisms after her mother died. I suppose I did to some extent, but she’s probably reverted to that since she left.

Is it more difficult for her to pretend this time around?

Does she ever have moments when she’s truly happy?

Is
she truly happy?

A moment of panic flits through my body when, as though she senses she’s being watched, Samantha’s head turns towards the coffee shop, searching. I have no idea how she would react to seeing me. Anger? Elation? Panic? Fear? Relief? I’m not sure which emotion I would most like to see. I watch with my own unidentifiable emotions as her eyes seem to look straight through the coffee shop window and the people walking past it. I wait for the look of recognition on her face, but it never comes. She doesn’t see me. She has no idea I’m here.
I can’t help my feelings of sadness and disappointment as she looks away.