Page 29 of Daddy Detectives: Episode 2
Will throws the stuffed elephant on the floor and holds out his arms to Rhonda.
She beams. “Come here, honey.” She scoops Will into her arms and deposits him on her lap.
While she’s chatting with my son, I glance down at Ian, who’s watching Rhonda intently. There’s an odd expression on his face—something I’m not used to seeing. Maybe he’s wondering how she can be so loving with her grandchildren when she exposed Ian to such an awful environment when he was little.
“I need you to explain,” Ian blurts out. Right to the point.
Rhonda’s smile falters as she nods. “I know.”
Lizzie lays her head on my shoulder and rubs her eyes. “I think it’s naptime,” I say. I step forward and lean down to scoop Will up with my free arm. “I’ll take them upstairs to bed and give you two some time to talk.”
After I get the babies changed and in their bassinettes, I switch on the baby monitor. When I return to the living room, Rhonda and Ian are seated in the two armchairs in front of the fireplace, clearly deep in conversation.
“Do you want privacy?” I ask Ian.
He shakes his head. “No, stay. Please.” And then, to Rhonda, he carries on the conversation. “You locked me in my bedroom for hours at a time, in the dark! Do you have any idea how scared I was?”
Rhonda pales. “I’m so sorry.”
“Do you have any idea how much that traumatized me? How frightened I was? It still affects my life.” He glances at me. “It affects my relationships. Hell, I’m a grown man, and I can’t stand being in the dark.”
Her eyes tear up. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
“I don’t want anapology,” Ian says, frustration edging his voice. “I want to understand how and why.”
“All right.” She sighs heavily as she runs her fingers through her hair. It’s a nervous trait Ian shares. “Your father left me right before you were born.”
“Wait, what?” Ian says. “I know nothing about him. Who was he, and why did he leave? Were you married?”
“No, we weren’t married. His name was Carter Lynch. He was about ten years older than me. We weren’t married because—well, he was already married.”
Ian leans back in his seat, his expression dumbfounded.
“He never wanted to be a father,” Rhonda said. “He already had a bunch of kids with his wife. He didn’t want any additional responsibility.”
“I don’t understand,” Ian says. “If he didn’t want a kid, why did you—” He freezes. “Oh.I was an accident.”
I move to stand behind Ian’s chair so I can rest my hands on his shoulders.
“We got drunk one night and forgot to use a condom, and I ended up pregnant. He may not have wanted you, but I did. I was scared of going it alone, sure, but Iwantedyou. The problem was, I worked a minimum wage job, and with the cost of rent and utilities and food and daycare, I just didn’t bring in enough to make ends meet.”
“Were you using drugs then?” Ian asks.
She shakes her head. “Honestly, no. That didn’t come until later. When I was pregnant with you, I was totally clean. But not long after you were born, I was desperate for cash, so I started doing tricks to supplement my income. Before long, I was making more at that than I was at my job working at a convenience store, so I quit my job. I stayed home, and that saved me from paying for daycare because I could keep you athome with me. But after a while, what I was doing got to me, and I couldn’t handle the pressure. One of my regulars offered me drugs, and I started using to escape, and before long, I was addicted. It was a vicious cycle. The more I did drugs, the more tricks I had to do to pay for them. It got so bad that my apartment became a revolving door. I would do several tricks a night. Then they started coming during the day, too. It got out of hand, but I needed the money, so what could I do?”
She turns to stare out the window. “Eventually, they started asking about you. Not all of them, of course, but some. They saw your toys on the floor, your pictures on the walls, the high chair in the kitchen. They realized I had a little boy. Some of them were curious at first. When a couple of them started showing interest in you—suggesting that they could—” She shudders. “That’s when I started locking you in your room whenever a trick was in my apartment. It was to protect you, Ian. I didn’t know what else to do. There was nowhere else for you to go. I had no friends, no family to watch you. I had no one.”
Pretty soon both Ian and Rhonda are in tears and on their feet, hugging, crying together. I’m glad. I want Ian to find resolution with his birth mom. And while I’m inclined to believe Rhonda’s take on things, part of me will always be a bit reserved where she’s concerned. She could hurt him again so easily, it scares me. And I swear to God, if she does, I’ll make sure she regrets it.
After Rhonda leaves, Ian and I head upstairs to our bedroom, where hungry babies are starting to stir. Ian lies on our bed with the babies while I go downstairs to make up bottles. We end up feeding them in our bed, both of us propped against the headboard, each holding a baby.
After they’re done eating and have burped, we lay Will and Lizzie side by side on the mattress between us and watch them interact with each other. They roll to face each other and reachout to hold hands. They sound like they’re having an actual conversation, gibbering in a language only they can understand.
“I hope they’ll always be close,” Ian says as he brushes Lizzie’s hair.
I reach for Ian’s free hand. “I imagine they will.”
Lizzie manages to grab Will’s hair and tug hard. Will bursts into tears, which startles Lizzie, who follows suit.
