She swats me, sticking her tongue out. “Remarks like that are how it never happens again.”
“Keep telling yourself that. But I need to warn you, this party might not go the way you’re expecting.” Might not is a lie. It definitely won’t go the way she thinks it will. There is no doubt in my mind that before it’s over, it will become a drama-fueled event to rival the most dramatic of soap opera scenes.
Dammit, I shouldn’t go. Casey begged me to, but my being there only guarantees her efforts will be wasted.
“I have no expectations, Jagger. A birthday party for a grown man and a toddler is new ground for me.” Her hands clap over her mouth. “Oh, my God. I don’t have a gift.” I laugh.
“Halfpint, don’t worry about it. There’s nothing in the world that either birthday boy needs that they don’t already have.” I sigh. “I just wanted to warn you it might get…messy.” God, what an understatement. And if she finds out the truth before I can tell her...
I wish I could talk her out of going because finding out the truth is imminent. One look...
She waves my comment away, sliding off my lap. “I can handle messy. Now, come on. I have a ballet to dance in, and you have a party to set up.”
***
I knew Casey could be neurotic. Her mom fucked with her head so much when she was a kid, trying to force her to be something she wasn’t, while ensuring Casey knew she would never be what her mother wanted, that she became the single most insecure kid I’d ever met. In a lot of ways, her issues run deeper than mine. We’ve all tried to help her realize she’s perfect as she is, but as with most things, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.
But the level of anal-retentive planning and over-the-top bullshit for this party is ridiculous.
“Why the hell are we assembling a jungle gym inside?” I ask Graham as I reach for a screwdriver. “Also, did she think she was putting this together? You got suckered, and I got suckered by proxy.”
“She wants the kids to have fun,” Graham hammers two pieces together for the slide. “She didn’t want them to feel like they were dragged to a stuffy adult party with cake. The ones old enough will be in here so the adults can enjoy conversation without kids running between their legs.”
“Tell me Casey hasn’t been around many kids without telling me she hasn’t been around many kids,” I snort.
“And you have?”
“Graham, before you came, that office was filled with kids. It seemed like for the first few months, every time I walked in a door, there was another kid.” I toss the screwdriver and stand. The small playset moves with ease across the marble floors as I position it, then give it a shake to ensure it’s sturdy. “This one is done. I’m going to grab something to drink. Do you want anything?”
“No.” He grunts, tossing the hammer, wincing when it cracks the marble tile. He rakes an aggravated hand through his hair as he stares at the slide like it personally offended him. I suppose it did, since it’s the only thing he managed to put togethercompared to my three. “I’m heading up for a shower.” He looks at his watch, rolling his eyes. “When I come back down, we can start setting out food.”
We walk out, him taking the stairs to the fourth floor while I turn right for the kitchen. When I get there, Maggie is standing at the counter, cutting fruit into small pieces. A high-pitched squeal erupts from a few feet away. I turn, meeting vivid pale green eyes, dark curls, and a slobbery smile.
“He’s been asking for you.” Maggie tells me.
I walk across the room, squatting to get eye level with his high chair, and it’s like looking at a baby photo of myself. “What’s up, little man?” My fingers brush over his soft hair. “Miss me?” He makes grabby hands at me, and I can’t resist his innocent demands.
A year ago, I couldn’t look at him, but I made a promise to try with him. To be in the same room and not feel nauseous. It was slow at first, but he’s become the only reason I keep coming around because not even Casey could keep me coming here to deal with my dad.
But Noah? He’s my favorite person.
“He should be with you.”
I turn, finding my brother standing in fresh jeans and a T-shirt, his hair damp from his shower.
“I can’t take him away from the only home and people he’s ever known, Graham. It’s not fair.”
“Same conversation we had six months ago, with different reasoning.” He says it out loud, but I can tell it’s really an observation. “He’s a baby, Jagger. He’ll adapt.” When I don’t respond, he sighs. “You didn’t sign the papers.”
“I know.” A tiny fist shoves into my mouth, making the words garbled and distorted. “I was going to. Had every intention, but I couldn’t do it.”
“It’s not a bad thing, Jagger. No matter the circumstances of how he came into this world, he isyourson. It’s natural that you want him…love him.”
Except six months ago, I hated him. If I’d been given the option, he wouldn’t exist at all.
Even though things have changed over the past few months, I know I don’t deserve him. Not after the thoughts and feelings I had. He was never at fault. He’s pure and innocent. Deserves to be held, loved, and cared for.
It doesn’t help that I’m gone a lot, high all the time, and spend way too much time with a bottle because I can’t move past my anger over what his mother did to me, at my mom for leaving me, or my dad for not seeing what was happening. Because no matter how many times I try to convince myself it wasn’t my dad’s fault, the resentment and anger never fade. It’s his fault Krista was brought into our lives. My life. His fault she destroyed this family, her own daughter included.
