4

sebastian

 

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m pregnant. I thought you’d like to know,” she spoke quietly into the phone, as though she was trying to prevent someone from hearing.

“How the fuck are you pregnant?” I nearly shouted, my eyes straining against their sockets. I had used a fucking condom. I always used a condom.

“It just happened, I guess. It’s not your fault,” she insisted, but it had to be. She hadn’t touched the thing. Nobody ever did. Just me. “And anyway, I’ve decided to get rid of it.”

“Then why the fuck did you bother to call me?” I snapped angrily.

“Just to tell someone, I guess.”

I jolted from my bed with a gasp. My fingers stabbed through my hair, gripping and pulling. Anger pushed through my veins in a flurry as I struggled to control my breathing.

“You fucking lied to me,” I said to the dark, empty room. “Why the fuck did you lie to me?”

Nobody answered.

We had been young, and fatherhood was never something I’d considered for myself. I would never attempt to deny either of those facts. When Sam had called me with the news, I was angry. I was scared. But when she mentioned the abortion? I felt sad. Heartbroken, even. I didn’t try to talk her out of it. I didn’t make any attempt to influence her decision, but all I could think was, “That’s my kid in there, and I don’t get a say in this.”

I mourned that baby for months before my busy life helped me to move on with distraction after distraction, until I just didn’t think about it much anymore. But, every now and then, I’d think about that time I was almost a dad. When I almost had a kid.

What a mindfuck it was to learn that, while I’d thought he was gone, he was out there in the world, living his life.

 

***

 

“So, wait a second, dude …” Ty was silent for a few seconds before continuing, “You got some chick pregnant years ago, and you found out yesterday that he’s been alive all this time, and you’re driving up to see him today?”

His voice flooded the interior of my Range Rover, and I nodded in reply. “That’s the gist of it, yeah. Crazy, right?”

“You know, I have no problem imagining you knocking someone up, but the idea of you as a parent is just … really fucking with me right now.” I could picture my friend shaking his head with disbelief.

“You?! Bro, imagine how I feel!” I was laughing in spite of the churning in my stomach as I drove down I-95 toward Hog Hill. The GPS told me I had another fifteen miles to go before reaching my destination. Fifteen miles wasn’t a whole lot.

“And his mom’s dead, you said?”

I nodded sadly. “Yeah, she got into a car accident a few months ago apparently.”

“So, who’s the kid with now?”

“His aunt.” I thought about Tabitha Clarke. The professional and polite tone she’d used both times I spoke with her, until her brief moment of weakness. I’d heard the breaking in her voice as she begged me for help; a stranger. She was desperate, and I’d felt bad.

“Did you look them up on Facebook?” Ty asked skeptically.

Chuckling, I shook my head. “Nah. Probably should’ve, right?”

“Uh, what the fuck, man. These people could be taking advantage of you right now.”

I guess it was a possibility. I’d never considered that could be the case, not when Tabby knew the things I had written. But wasn’t it possible that she’d found the letters I’d written to Sam and decided to use it against me? I still hadn’t spoken to the kid, and had no proof he even existed.

But the desperation in her voice had been real.

“I think I’m good, but I’ll text you the address, just in case,” I told him with another chuckle.

“Yeah, well, good luck. I’m going back to bed. Later, Dad,” he teased before hanging up the phone.

I shook my head, casually snickering as I turned up the volume on the Foo Fighters’ “Walk.” But deep down, I wondered what it’d feel like for someone to seriously call me dad.

Wondering if he—Greyson—ever would.

 

***

 

“Tabby Clarke.” I held the phone to my ear, speaking cheerily as my heart hammered wildly in my chest. “I have arrived in your tiny town. Did you know you have a little over two-thousand residents here?”

“Sure. Thank you for that,” she grumbled. “I’m at the office. Um, maybe you could wait at this coffee shop on Main Street? It’s close to where I work. Do you even drink coffee?”

“My middle name is Folgers,” I joked, peering out the windshield at what I was sure was the coffee shop in question.

On Main Street ... I was on Main Street, according to the GPS. I turned to the left and right, looking for the real estate agency she worked at, and quickly spotted it. TC Real Estate. TC—Tabitha Clarke. Maybe I could just take a walk down there and peek through the window. Check this Tabby Clarke out. Make sure she was a woman in her thirties and not a creepy lady looking for a thrill.

“Great. Okay. Can you be there in about twenty minutes?”

Looking back to the coffee shop directly in front of me, I nodded. “Yep. I think I can manage that.”

“Excellent,” she replied. I could imagine her talking to her clients this way. Sickeningly chipper and falsely positive. “I’ll see you then.”

She hung up and, as I stuffed my phone into my pocket, I mocked, “Excellent.”

Getting out of my truck, I considered just walking into the coffee shop and waiting, and perhaps that’s what I should’ve done. It would’ve been the more courteous thing to do, after already making the arrangement with Tabby. But God, my curiosity was barking and I wasn’t in the mood to sit still.

So, I walked.

I headed in the direction of the real estate agency. A brick exterior with painted white pillars framed the white door. Stopping out front on the other side of the street, I squinted my eyes, taking in the classy, just-as-white interior, and the woman sitting behind a desk.

“Hello, Tabby Clarke,” I muttered under my breath, shoving my hands into my pockets.

Well, she wasn’t particularly gorgeous, but she was on the upper-end of average. Dark brown hair pulled into a neat twist at the back of her head. An immaculate, business-like sense of fashion, and a pencil pinched between two long, manicured fingers.

She wasn’t bad, but she’d be easy to resist. That was a good thing.

With an assessing nod, I told myself to walk back to the coffee shop. I glanced toward it and its whimsical sign hanging above the door, and then looked back to the realty office. It couldn’t hurt to walk in, I figured. She wouldn’t know who I was, unless she had Googled my name, which was a likely possibility. Still, it felt safe to just wander in, pretend to be someone else for a moment, and then hurry back to the coffee shop.

“Unless she realizes I’m the same guy,” I mumbled to myself as an old woman walked down the sidewalk behind me.

“Excuse me?” she asked, stopping to take me in.

Turning to face her, I noticed her scrutinizing stare aimed directly at the knot I’d twisted my hair into. “Oh, sorry. I was just talking to myself.”

“Mm,” she grumbled with a shake of her head before continuing on her way. “This town’s going straight to hell.”

Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine?

I turned back to the realtor’s office and decided to go for it. What was the worst that could happen? She’d realized that I’d been spying on her? I could just tell her I was making sure she wasn’t fucking with me. That was the truth, after all.

I headed across the street and walked right through the door without hesitation, sliding my sunglasses off and breathing in the scent of freshly cut flowers and perfume. It was clearly a woman’s office. Organized, clean, and pretty, and I nodded my approval.

“Can I—” Tabby began, her words cut short as I turned to face her. “Whoa.”

“Hi,” I said with a grin, in a voice I hoped screamed I was looking for a home.

“You look like a model,” she gushed, flattening her hands on her desk as her lips parted with surprise. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that. I swear I’m a happily married woman, oh my God …”

Married? I was almost certain Tabby wasn’t married. “Uh, maybe you could help—”

“You know what? I don’t think I should. You are just too …” She shook her head. “Let me just get Tabitha for you, okay?” The flustered woman, apparently not Tabby, stood up from her desk and raked her eyes over me from head to toe. “Oh my God, you’re so tall.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Get a grip, Jessica.”

Jessica hurried away, disappearing behind a door with a frosted window. Painted, white lettering read Tabitha Clarke on the glass and I nodded slowly, stepping closer to the office.

“Tabitha, oh my God, you have to get a look at this guy out here,” Jessica enthused, and I stifled my chuckle. “He looks like Thor’s hotter brother.”

Well, that’s a new one.

“Seriously?” came Tabby’s voice without the distortion of a cellphone speaker. “Is he looking to buy or sell?”

“I … I didn’t ask, okay? I couldn’t say anything to him. You know how I get around gorgeous guys. I just … I can’t even with them.”

Tabby sighed in the way I would’ve expected her to. Impatiently. “He can’t be that good-looking, Jess, come on.”

Wheels scraped against solid wood and footsteps came closer to the door. A shadowed silhouette came into view and I quickly turned around to study pictures of house listings on the wall behind me. I noted that her name was only associated with one, and as the door opened, I started to wonder what the hell I’d been thinking, coming in here instead of the coffee shop.

“Excuse me,” she said in a friendly but assertive voice. “So sorry to keep you waiting. My associate is a little, uh, preoccupied with other clients.”

When I turned around, I found myself wishing Jessica had in fact been Tabby. Because this woman would most definitely be a distraction, with her form-fitting black top and hip-hugging, wide-legged black pants.

“It’s fine,” I replied, my lips curling into a smile, and her features immediately fell with instant recognition.

“Sebastian?” she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and tipping her head to cascade her long, auburn braid over a shoulder. She made no secret of looking me over, narrowing her eyes and pinching her lips, as I casually stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets. “Why are you here?”

“You know him?” Jessica chimed in from behind Tabby as she peered over her shoulder. “How the hell do you know him?”

Never being one to bite my tongue, I shrugged with nonchalance and tipped my head back to admire the ceiling. “I saw the office, so I thought I’d stop in.”

“This is incredibly inappropriate,” Tabby reprimanded. “I asked you to wait for me at the coffee shop and you deliberately—”

“Do you talk to everyone like this?” I asked, dropping my gaze back to hers. Using my dislike toward her tone to cover the fact that I very much liked looking at her and her big emerald eyes.

“Excuse me?” Her arms crossed tighter.

“Do you talk to everyone like they’re little kids?”

With widened eyes and puckered lips, Jessica slid back to her desk with the stealth of a ninja, revealing that few people crossed Tabitha Clarke. I smirked, cocking my head and holding Tabby’s stare.

Watching the contracting muscles of her throat as she swallowed her pride, she inhaled and exhaled with the forming of a forced little smile. “I just like things to go according to plan.”

Her tone was tense and controlled. She was angry, trying to disguise it with a tight-lipped grin, but her feelings were made apparent in the reddened tips of her several-times-pierced ears. Flitting my gaze to the hoops curving around the outer shell of each ear, I quickly counted. Seven in each. A high number for a straight-laced professional.

Curling my lips into a lopsided smile, I nodded slowly. “Then allow me to apologize for inconveniencing your schedule, Tabby. I’ll just be on my way and meet you in,” I lifted my arm to take a peek at my watch, “fourteen minutes.”

A hot flame flickered in the irises of her green eyes, as fiery as the red in her hair. I was knowingly pushing buttons and it was reckless, given the stakes. She held the key to a relationship with the son I never knew existed, and here I was, playing with fire.

Backpedaling, I cleared my throat. “I could order for us, while I wait,” I offered, emphasizing the kind lilt in my tone with a nod of my chin. “Anything in particular you’d like?”

Inhaling another dose of calm, she bobbed her head once. “A low-fat vanilla latte, please.”

“You got it.” I turned on my heel, dropping my gaze to her feet. Pointy beige stilettos that could probably kill me if she tried.

Nodding politely at Jessica, I tapped my fingers on her desk. “Nice to meet you, Jess. See you around.”

She nodded slowly, following my every step with lust-filled eyes. “Bye, Thor.”