Tessa
“Mom!” I hear his voice as soon as I close the door behind me. The stomping of his tennis shoes echo down the hardwood floors of our apartment. “You’re home!” he squeals as he races towards me. Before he gets a chance to wrap his arms around my waist, I drop to my knees so I can get the full force of his hug.
“Hi, baby,” I say as I bury my face into his hair.
He giggles. “I’m not a baby. I’m six!” He squirms as he tries to get out of my hold.
“How was your morning?” I ask as I pull him back to inspect his face. “Did you brush your teeth?”
“He did right after breakfast,” Sarah, my neighbor, says as she comes from the kitchen. “I made soup, it’s on the stove.” She gives me a smile as she grabs her jacket from the couch.
“You didn’t have to do that. You do enough for us.” I stand, and my son leans into my side.
“I’m glad to help. You know that.” She whips her jacket around, shoving each of her arms in it before pulling her chestnut hair from beneath the fabric.
Sarah’s a college student. She attends the local community college two nights a week and takes the rest of her classes online. Without her, I’m not sure I’d be able to hold down two jobs. If I didn’t have two jobs, I wouldn’t have the money for my son to eat…or have a roof over his head.
She walks over, tapping Sam’s nose as she passes and heads for the door. “I’ll be back tonight, little guy. See ya, Tessa.” She squeezes my hand before she opens the door, quickly stepping through and closing it behind her.
“So,” I turn towards my son, “Let’s eat some soup, then I thought we’d head out and enjoy the day.”
* * *
“Yes!” He fist pumps the air.
“Did you know there are one hundred and twenty-nine species of mammals that live in the ocean?” Sam asks before he plops a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. He smiles and the vanilla ice cream drips from the corners of his mouth.
“I didn’t know that, buddy.” I take the napkin from the table, wiping the mess from his mouth. “How did you know?”
“It’s common knowledge, Mom,” he says so matter of fact, but I know it’s because Sarah is studying marine biology and he must have picked it up from her. My son is like a sponge, but I guess most kids are at this age. That’s why they say to read to your child during the first five years because that’s when they retain the most information.
I set my spoon into the cardboard bowl and watch Sam go to town at scraping every last bit of his vanilla ice cream from the container. His hair is brown, not as dark as mine, but close. It’s now longish and shaggy as it frames his face. I love it. I love how it swishes around his head when he’s jumping or talking. Once he’s done eating his ice cream, he drops the spoon and bowl on the table and pats his stomach as he smiles at me.
“That was yummy.” His smile deepens the dimple that’s set on his right cheek.
“I’m glad you thought so.”
He nods his head, feet rocking back and forth, antsy now that his focus is no longer on the task of eating his weight in ice cream. I take another bite and watch as his steel blue eyes wander around. My son’s eyes. From the moment he was born his eyes have haunted me. Two simple reminders of something he shares with a man I know nothing about. I know my son doesn’t share my eyes. Mine are brown. I have my mother’s eyes. I know Sam has his eyes.
“Tessa?” I look to my right and see a man approaching us. “I thought that was you.”
Without thinking, I shoot from my chair, grabbing Sam by his arm and pull him to stand. When the man stops, he looks down at Sam. “Wow, I didn’t know you had a son.”
I pull Sam behind me. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
His body stiffens as something flashes in his eyes. His shoulders relax. “I’m sorry,” he says as he shakes his head. “I didn’t think. I’m Phil, Phil Jansen.” The name doesn’t sound familiar, so I shake my head. “My father was a patient at New Hope. Two years ago. He–he passed away.”
I’ve worked at New Hope for the past four years. There have been a lot of patients during that time. Some have left out the front doors while others have left another way. It’s not always a happy place to be. People die, and when you see family members in the hallways crying, there’s nothing you can do but give them your condolences. I’m not a heartless person. I’m not going to pass them without saying something. I watch as he runs this hand through his hair and then tugs at the ends. The familiarity of it all hits me, and that’s when I remember him. He stood in the hall as the medical staff rushed in, trying to revive his father. I don’t think he was that old. A stroke victim, I believe. He couldn’t catch his breath as the emotion wrack through his body. He was alone, and I felt terrible for him.
“Now I remember.” My grip on my son loosens. “How have you been?”
“Good, thanks. I wanted to thank you, Tessa. You didn’t have to take the time to console me that night. It was rough, harder than I thought it would be. You have a way with people.”
I hold up my hand. “It was nothing. I’m glad I could help.”
He takes a step closer to me, and my anxiety level shoots up. “Mommy,” Sam pulls on my shirt.
I look down at my son. “Right, honey, let’s get going.”
When I look back to Phil, I catch him watching us inquisitively. His eyes harden his lips in a thin tight line. I clear my throat making him shake his head, clearing the fog from his eyes. When he finally meets my stare, he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s forced.
“I wouldn’t want to keep you.”
“It was nice seeing you, Phil. Take care.” I step past him, and I immediately realize my mistake because as soon as I shoulder past him, I feel his grip on my elbow and freeze.
“Tessa,” he says my name. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to take you out sometime.”
It takes all my strength to force myself to look at him. I feel the tremors start to roll through my body. When I finally lift my eyes to meet him, his brow is cocked. “So–sorry, Phil. But that’s not possible. I don’t date.” I jerk my elbow from his grasp and carry on my way, making sure that I don’t let go of Sam’s hand.