Page 57 of Don't Lie to Me
“I won’t. What do you guys like to eat?”
“Sorry,” I muttered. My anger at Jack had nothing to do with Marcus. “It’s been a shitty day.” Before he could say anything, I cupped my hand over my receiver and peered at Logan. “What do you want for dinner Logan?”
His little nose crinkled up, as if he was really thinking hard about it. I didn’t buy it for a single second and I splashed him with water, almost forgetting Marcus was still on the phone. While Logan sputtered and spit the soap and bubbles out of his mouth and off his face, I took my hand off the phone. “You’ll probably be his biggest hero if you bring him a cheeseburger Happy Meal.”
“And a video game dad!” Logan shouted and I heard Marcus’ laughter through the phone.
“No video games,” I said sternly to both of them at the same time.
“Sounds good, see you in a little bit.”
We said our good-bye’s, and I knew I was going to be spending the rest of the night watching Marcus and Logan jump on paper mushrooms while I pretended to be annoyed. I’d let Marcus have this time of spoiling the shit out of his kid because I knew it was partly my fault that he didn’t know his son.
Sure, I thought he was a prick when his dad showed up all those years ago. But the truth, was that I could have gone to Marcus at any time and told him I didn’t have an abortion. I could have chosen to be brave any day over the last five years and let him have his chance with Logan. Fear and anger kept me from it. I sighed, the guilt weighing on me.
I kept Logan – intentionally – from his dad. Even when he asked about a dad, or where he was, I lied. I hated that. I hated feeling like I’d knowingly kept my son from the one person who he wanted to know more than anyone, thinking that replacements like Tate and Jack were enough for him.
I stared at my son and fought back the tears. Marcus’s admissions from the previous day about how much he wanted this family played in my head on repeat. Would Logan hate me forever for keeping his dad from him or would he forgive me when he was old enough to understand why I did it? Was Marcus in his life now, enough to erase all the pain and tears I’d caused my boy?
The only thing I knew for sure was that not knowing the answers sucked.
EIGHTEEN
My friends ganged up on me. Apparently, forty-eight hours was enough to wallow in the misery of losing your job and your lover at the same time. Macy spent Friday night with me, listening to me cry and bitch about how shitty Jack was. I didn’t tell her specifics, but she knew enough. She also told me how wretched Jack had been at work that day. If it was supposed to make me feel better, it didn’t. I didn’t want Jack miserable. I wanted him to open up for once and talk to me. I wanted him to want me.
The realization he didn’t hit me smack in the chest and Macy stomped her foot down when I tried defending him.
“That’s it.” She stood up Saturday morning, brushed muffin crumbs off her pajama pants, and faced me, looking taller than her just over five foot frame allowed. “We’re getting wasted tonight.”
“I’ve already talked to Marcus,” she said with a smirk on her lips. “He wants to have Logan over at his place anyway so he said he’d watch Logan while we went out tonight.”
I really didn’t want to go out. I had more wallowing to do. I just knew better than to argue with her. If I didn’t join the party, she’d bring it to me.
“Fine.”
She left, making me promise to meet her at the bar after I dropped Logan off at Marcus’ later in the afternoon. While Logan watched an animated super heroes movie, I sorted the laundry, cleaned up the apartment and got ready to go out.
I was doing well, pushing thoughts of Jack to the back of my mind until I saw Macy’s eggplant colored dress, the dress I wore on our first date, still hanging in my closet.
Memories of him flooded my mind even as I tried to turn them off. I sat on the floor of my closet, crying quietly knowing that Jack was terribly wrong.
His three-date-rule was still strongly in effect.
We may have screwed around a lot more than that, but as soon as something bad happened – whatever the hell it was that happened to him earlier in the week – Jack had thrown up walls faster than a rocket launching into space, even after professing his love for me.
Suddenly, getting skunk drunk sounded like a fabulous idea. A night out without having to worry about paying babysitters or being quiet in the morning so I didn’t wake Logan up? Sounded like a vacation to me, and if anyone had earned one after the way this week went, I figured it was me.
I allowed myself a few more tears, promising myself that they were the last I would cry over Jack, got dressed, and then helped Logan pack an overnight bag.
Armed with a small suitcase, his pillow, and a couple of his favorite sleeping blankets wrapped under his arms, we headed to Marcus’ apartment. It was just a few miles from where I lived and I nervously wrung my hands on the steering wheel the entire time at the idea of leaving Logan alone for the night.
Eventually I knew we’d have to sit down and work out a custody agreement, but Logan was so happy around him and Marcus seemed so excited to make up for lost time, that I didn’t want to set anything in stone just yet.
Marcus’s apartment was slightly larger than mine and much newer. His furnishings were fancier and his big screen television on a far wall rivaled Jack’s. I instantly hated the comparison.
“You’re going to keep him from your dad, right?” I asked abruptly and then instantly wanted to duct tape my own mouth shut. I waved a hand in apology. “Sorry….I’ve had a long week…”
Marcus cut me off. “You don’t need to worry about that, Emma. I swear it to you.” By the darkening of his eyes and the fiercely protective stance, I knew he was right.
