Chapter 20
“How you handle a situation when you mess up is what matters.”
Lionel
~~~
“Daddy? Daddy?” Claire jumped up and down, attempting to snatch the phone in my hand unsuccessfully.
“What can I do for you, Princess?” I asked, hoisting her in the air, pretending she weighed nothing as I placed her on the kitchen countertop.
She lowered her gaze to examine her fingers, earning my full attention. “I wish mommy was here with us.”
Pocketing my phone, I lifted her chin so she could look at me. “You remember what I told you last time, right?” She bobbed her head up and down, a frown settling on her lips. “I’m sorry but that’s just how things are, please try and understand.”
“Okay,” she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. My fists clenched, goddammit Leslie! I couldn’t comprehend why she kept building false hopes for Claire, knowing the depth of the pain it caused her. She craved to have her parents together, all her peers at school had that, or so she reckoned. What she didn’t realize was kids lied a lot to fit in, I did it too when I was her age.
Parenting was hard enough, not to talk of co-parenting. I knew I was far from a saint but Leslie was something else, the things she did to her child fazed me. If not for the fact that I’d seen her pregnant, I would have sworn she never mothered Claire.
“What did she tell you this time?”
“She said . . .” Sniff. “That you were going to marry her and we’re going to live like a family. Everyone at school says it’s fun to do stuff with their parents.” She buried her face in her hands, letting free her tears. My heart broke, she deserved better.
Waiting till she was calmer, I explained to her how life worked, why certain things were unavoidable and the reasons people found it necessary to lie. Surely, all the parents at her school couldn’t be together. When she’d finally understood everything and afforded a smile on her angelic face, I wrapped my arms around her, making a mental note to stop by her school to speak with her teacher and give Leslie a lecture of a lifetime.
“Can I have some ice cream?” She batted her eyelashes, flashing her stark white teeth at me. Opening the fridge, I picked a medium-sized can of vanilla ice cream and handed it to her. “Thank you,” she beamed as I lowered her down.
“Hey, Uncle,” she greeted Luke.
“Hello favorite niece,” he grinned, shuffling her hair when she strolled past him.
“What’s up?” He walked up to me and we fist-bumped.
I sighed. “It’s Leslie, she’s throwing tantrums again and making Claire cry.”
“Why do you hate her so much?”
“You won’t understand, Luke. It’s very complicated,” I said, combing through my hair with my fingers.
“Try me.” His gaze held mine and I let out a shallow breath.
“You guys are gonna be so pissed cause I’ve kept this from you all these years, but it’s time I let loose.” Grabbing a bottle of whiskey and three glasses, we sauntered off to the living room. Sharing my dirty laundry with my younger brother Calvin and my cousin was no fun, but I had to. I trusted them. They had to know why I was so hard on them with the ladies when they got to the age I fucked up big time.
At just eighteen, barely out of school, unemployed and with no single cent to my name, Leslie dropped a bomb on me. She was pregnant. Damn! It had to be one of the toughest moments in my life. I was frightened.
I believed she was being ridiculous when she begged me to marry her, I mean, we had no future together; we were just teenagers who were dumb enough to engage in sex. I’d broken it off with her weeks before she proclaimed she was expecting. I couldn’t be with her after I’d caught her in bed with another at my birthday party.
Thinking back to when we last shared a bed, I kicked her out. I wasn’t her baby’s father; we always used protection. When next I saw her, she looked miserable and her parents were furious, pledging to send me to jail if I didn’t marry their daughter with immediate effect.
Scared to death of seeing a prison cell, I sang the whole truth to them, even the superfluous details. I was drinking, smoking weed, and putting my penis in a girl’s vagina; everything I’d been warned to never indulge myself in. My father’s palm connected with my face so hard I nearly passed out. My mother was sorely disappointed, if she owned a dungeon, she would have thrown me in without a second thought. She said so herself.
Leslie’s parents stormed out with a vow to slap my face with a lawsuit and DNA results. For the next few months, I remorsefully served punishments from my father, yearning for the paternity test to turn out in my favor. To my utter disappointment, I was a 99% match but was still in doubt. Coming from a high social status, her parents had the means to fake or pay a doctor to create the well documented and believable results.
My father denied me a retest, claiming it was risky for the baby. The thought of having to wait till birth before I could confirm if I was to be a father or not killed me. Seven months later, Claire screamed her lungs open, I couldn’t believe it; she was too cute. A sheer photocopy of me. Same grey eyes, same hair color, same facial expressions; she was mine. Leslie had some explaining to do.
When she came clean of her devious schemes, I nearly lost it. For months on end, I was disturbed, angry, and spiteful. She spiked my drink, making me delusional enough to bed her all night as she alleged. When I woke up the next day, there was nothing out of the ordinary. I was fully dressed and in my schoolmate’s bed. Her story was almost unbelievable, if not for Claire’s striking resemblance to me, I would never have acknowledged anything she said.
My guilt-ridden thoughts of marrying her died an instant death. For the next couple of years, I focused on visiting Claire and working my ass off to secure her future. Regardless of how many times I showed my disgust for Leslie, she still made shameless advances at me.
In my mid-twenties, I met a woman so kind, loving, and everything I ever wished for. But my happiness was short-lived, things got messy, altering my life completely.
