Chapter 11

Liza

 

 

I was hovering in that weird state between sleep and wakefulness when I heard a banging sound. At first, my mind thought it was part of a dream, but the more conscious part of me determined it wasn’t part of a dream at all. I sat up in bed and waited, listening again for the sound so I could figure out what it was.

Not hearing a thing, I decided it must have been a dream after all. Checking the clock, I saw it was just before six in the morning. Happy with the prospect of another twenty minutes sleep, I quickly laid my head on the pillow. Every minute counted in my book. I had no sooner closed my eyes than I heard the banging again.

Damn. It wasn’t a dream. Someone was banging on my front door—before 6 a.m. That someone was about to get their ass kicked. If they woke up my daughter before I had a chance to drink my coffee and get a shower without worrying about what she was getting into, I would hurt them—badly.

It had better be a damn fire in the building, I thought to myself as I made my way to the front door. I didn’t bother putting on a robe. My shorts and t-shirt were perfectly acceptable, even if I didn’t have a bra on.

Raising up on my tiptoes to peer through the peephole, I gasped.

“Oh shit!”

More banging. I yanked open the door and glared at the man standing in the hallway.

“Shhh!” I practically shouted.

“We need to talk.”

I stood there glaring at him, and he glared right back. He looked awful. There were dark circles under his eyes, and I could see beard stubble on his face.

“Are you drunk?” I asked, ready to slam the door in his face if I detected any trace of alcohol.

“No, I’m not drunk. We need to talk, though. Can I come in?”

“How did you find out where I lived?” I asked, the reality that Milo Pastek was standing at my front door at six in the morning starting to sink in.

“Does it matter?” he shot back.

“Uh, yeah. It kind of does.”

“Look. Do I—do we have a daughter?” he blurted out.

My vision faded a bit as the question I’d so dreaded rang out. My mouth opened, then closed, and I felt like a fish out of water. He stood there, staring at me, demanding an answer with those piercing blue eyes.

Should I lie? Should I tell him he was crazy and insist that he leave me alone? No. I couldn’t. It wasn’t just morally wrong; I was pretty sure there could be some legal ramifications as well. If he somehow managed to get a DNA test and prove she was his, the risk of a judge granting him custody was too high.

I took a deep breath and decided to bite the bullet.

“Yes.”

His mouth dropped open and I saw the color drain from his face.

“Oh.”

“Come in. Sit down,” I said, in resignation, holding the door open for him.

He slowly walked through the door, and I could see the myriad of emotions crossing his face. I gestured to the couch, where he immediately flopped down, his large body taking up one side.

“Hold on a minute,” I said, walking down the short hallway and quietly closing the door to Ainsley’s room before heading to my own. I opened the drawer and grabbed the envelope that had been sitting there, waiting for this exact moment.

When I walked back into the living room, he was sitting with his knees on his elbows, his head in his hands.

“Here,” I said handing him the envelope.

“What’s this?” he said, taking it.

“All you have to do is sign the papers. I will never ask you for anything, and you will never have to see her or acknowledge her as your child. Sign the papers, and you can forget you ever found out.”

He was scanning the papers, shaking his head. He stuffed them back in the envelope and threw the packet on the coffee table. “No way.”

“What?” I asked, horrified. This was my worst nightmare playing out.

“No. I’m not signing that.”

I cleared my throat, not knowing what to call him. Milo felt too formal. Pastek was too informal. I could see that he was hurt and angry. Formal was probably the better approach.

“Milo, it’s better this way.”

“For who, Liza? For you? For her? It certainly isn’t better for me.”

“Keep your voice down,” I scolded.

He stood up, glaring down at the envelope as if it were a snake ready to bite him. “I’m not signing the damn papers, and I want to meet my daughter. Actually meet her,” he clarified.

“That’s not going to happen. You need to leave now,” I said, standing toe to toe with him.

“I’m not leaving until you agree to let me see my kid,” he growled.

Putting my hands on his chest, I shoved him.

“Get out.” I grabbed the envelope off the table and followed him as he walked toward the door. As he turned to face me, I opened the door and moved to shove him into the hall.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me when I can see my kid!”

“Shhh! Don’t you dare wake her up. Take the paperwork. Take time to read it and then sign it. I don’t want anything from you. Just go away.”

“No.”

“Milo, you can’t show up five years later and think you get to be a part of this child’s life,” I protested.

“I didn’t have a chance to show up five years ago! You never told me!” he said, his voice raised in anger.

“I tried. You didn’t want to know.”

“Oh my God. How could I have known that’s what you wanted to talk about all those years ago. I assumed you were on the pill. You never asked me to wear a condom. I had no idea there was even a chance you were pregnant. Don’t you dare put this on me,” he seethed.

“You’re right. You couldn’t have known. It doesn’t matter now. I had a baby. I have been her only parent for the past four years. You can’t walk in here now and think you can suddenly be her father.”

He jerked back as if I had slapped him. “Yes, I can and I will.”

“Milo, you are not in any position to be a father. You know that,” I said, a little more gently.

“You don’t get to make that decision, Liza. You don’t even know me. You knew me for one night, and you were the one who came on to me. You were the one who walked in and tried to fuck me right in the middle of that room. Don’t get all high and mighty. You weren’t exactly mother material back then, were you now?”

My mouth gaped. “How dare you? It was one night!”

He shrugged. “Exactly my point. You don’t know me. You didn’t know me then, and you don’t get to judge me based on who you think I was five years ago.”

“You need to leave,” I said again, fearing he would wake up Ainsley.

“I want to know my daughter, Liza. I have that right.”

The determination in his eyes was clear. This wasn’t going to go away. What I had feared the most was standing right here on my doorstep, wanting to be her daddy. He wanted to spend time with her, which meant I was going to have to share her.

“Milo, leave now, okay? We can talk about it later. Take these, read them over. You will see I want nothing from you. I expect nothing from you. This is your ticket to freedom. You don’t have to worry about child support or me telling anyone. You can keep living your life the way you have, and I can continue providing Ainsley with a stable home. She wants for nothing,” I said softly.

He was shaking his head. “You have no idea what it’s like to grow up without a father. I guarantee you she will want for something. A father.”

“I do have an idea. I grew up without a mother, and I’m doing just fine.”

He smirked. “That’s what you think. You kept my child from me. And me from her. That’s some fucked up shit, Liza. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot. I’ll take your papers, but it won’t be me reading them. It will be the lawyer I go out and get.”

He spun around and walked down the hall, leaving me to stare at his back. My legs were unsteady as I watched. I managed to fumble with the door handle and get back inside before I collapsed in a heap against the front door.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. It was exactly like the nightmares that had plagued me for so many years after Ainsley was born. I had always feared this moment would happen but had eventually lulled myself into a false sense of security. I assumed he would rather keep up his single lifestyle than be strapped with a child. I knew nothing about the man except for what I remembered from college. Now, after seeing the look in his eyes, I knew I had been wrong about him.

Honestly, I hadn’t set out to hurt him. But, after seeing him and his reaction, I knew I had done exactly that. I should have made a more diligent effort to tell him. I knew that, but I had been so ashamed and embarrassed back then. He was Milo Pastek, the star quarterback that could have any woman he wanted, and did. I knew everyone would assume I got pregnant on purpose to try and trap him. I would never do that—to myself or him—but who was going to believe me.

“Mommy?”

Ainsley was standing in the hallway looking at me.

“Hey, sweetie,” I said, getting up off the floor.

“Why were you sitting on the floor?”

I smiled. “Oh, I was just a little tired.”

She looked at me as if I were crazy. I was, but she didn’t need to know that.

“I’m hungry.”

“Alright, let’s get you some breakfast. Then it’s back to Vanessa’s house for the day.”

“How come I can’t go to school?”

“Because school doesn’t start back up until tomorrow.”

“Oh. That’s okay. I like Vanessa.”

“Good,” I mumbled, my mind drifting to Milo and what it would mean if he shared custody. Would he require her to go with him on days I worked and he was off?

Pouring the milk into her bowl of cereal, I flipped on the TV for her and headed off to my room to get ready for the day. I wasn’t up to dealing with a bunch of rowdy, defiant fifth graders, but I had no choice. I couldn’t let Milo’s declaration derail me. I had to have a job so I could keep a roof over my—our—daughter’s head. If we were going to end up in a custody battle with lawyers involved, the last thing I could afford was losing my job.

I knew I could always live in my dad’s house. It was certainly big enough, and he wasn’t home all that often, but I’d always wanted to be independent. I didn’t want to rely on my daddy to bail me out of the mess I had made.

“Ready?” I asked my daughter, who looked anything but ready.

“I can’t find my shoe.”

“Ainsley, why do we have to do this every single day?” I mumbled in frustration.

“I don’t know.”

“Of course you don’t.”

Finally, I managed to get her dressed and out the door. I was completely frazzled. I was half-expecting Milo to be in the parking lot waiting to kidnap my daughter, or worse, be waiting with the cops to take her from me. I was going to be a nervous wreck, waiting to see what he was going to do. I didn’t know if I should get a lawyer now as a preemptive strike or wait to see if he might calm down and ultimately sign the papers.

For now, I had to go to work. I would worry about it all later.