Second Chance Dad Page 7

  “Maybe he won’t get over it, but he’ll learn to deal with it.” Monique spoke from experience. “Having somebody love you unconditionally makes a difference. It gives you strength.” That was what your love did for me, she thought to herself.

  “And loving him has given me strength. Because of my love for him, I can’t afford to be weak. He needs me too much. I have to be strong for him. And now for Glenn.”

  “Thank you, Dillon,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “For being strong. I know you haven’t had much time to adjust to the idea of a son, and I know that you’re still angry with me, but thank you for not holding any of that against Glenn.”

  “You thought I would do that?”

  She considered his words so she could give him an honest answer. “I don’t know what I thought. I just knew that Glenn needed you.”

  They drove the next few miles in silence as Dillon contemplated her words. “I know this is rehashing old territory, but why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant, Monique?” he asked, a while later. “I deserved to know.”

  She looked at his profile. His jaw was tight and she knew it had cost him a lot to ask that question. Again. “I got scared.”

  “Scared? Of me?”

  “Of your response. I lived with an aunt who spent every day of our life together telling me what a burden I was. I didn’t want me and my baby to become a burden to you.”

  “But I loved you, Monique. And he was my baby, too.”

  He didn’t understand and she didn’t know how she could make him understand. But she had to try. “Think about how different your life would have been if you’d been saddled with a wife and baby before you even graduated from high school. Would you have gone to college? Would you be established in a career now?”

  “We could have worked it out, but you didn’t even give us a chance.”

  Monique had no defense. She’d done what she felt was best at the time. Now that she looked back on it, she knew she’d made the wrong decision. But she also knew that if she had to make the decision again, she would do the same thing.

  “You’re not my dad,” Glenn shouted. He’d recently come in from a softball game and was dressed in his white uniform with red stripes. A red cap was turned backward on his head. “You’re not my dad,” he repeated, then he turned and ran out of the room.

  “Glenn!” Monique and Sue called at the same time. Monique got up from the couch and followed the boy.

  “Let me,” Dillon suggested, taking hold of her arm. Seeing the question in her eyes, he added, “We have to start somewhere.” He smiled to reassure her. “Where do you think he went?”

  “There’s a tree house out back. He’s probably out there.” There were tears in her eyes now. “Why do things have to be so difficult for him?”

  Dillon gave in to his instincts and touched his hand to her cheek. “It’ll be all right, Monique. He has two parents who love him very much. It’ll be all right.”

  “Promise?” she asked with a feeble smile.

  “Promise.” He dropped his hand from her face and followed Glenn’s path. When he reached the tree house, a wooden structure with four sides, a roof and an open doorway, he looked up and took a deep breath before beginning the short climb that would take him to his son’s hideout.

  When he reached the top rung, he saw Glenn sitting against the back wall of the tree house. He called to him, “Is it okay if I come in?”

  Silence.

  “I just want to talk, Glenn. I promise to leave if you want me to leave.”

  “You’re too big,” came the muttered reply.

  At least he was talking, Dillon thought. He was thankful for that. “What if I stay right here and we talk? This is a nice tree house you have. Did you build it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “By yourself?”

  “My dad helped me.”

  Dillon didn’t miss Glenn’s emphasis on the word, dad.

  “Well, your dad did a good job. My dad built me a tree house when I was about your age.”

  Silence.

  “But I had to share mine with two brothers.”

  “This one is mine all by myself. My dad said so.”

  Dillon figured his son was going to be a hard nut to crack. “You miss your dad, don’t you?”

  Silence.

  “You want to hear about my brothers?”

  Silence.

  “Well, Darnell is the oldest. He drives a motorcycle. I bet you’d like him. Have you ever been on a motorcycle?”

  Glenn moved away from the back wall of the tree house and closer to the door. “A real motorcycle?”

  Dillon smiled. He’d known the motorcycle would get Glenn’s attention. Not many nine-year-olds could resist a bike. “Yep. A real motorcycle.”

  “Does he let you ride it?”

  Dillon shook his head. “Not me. I like cars. I feel safer on four wheels.”

  “I ride a bike. My mom gave it to me for Christmas. It has two wheels just like a motorcycle.”

  “Hmm,” Dillon said. “Well, maybe Darnell will take you for a ride one day.”

  Silence.

  “My other brother, Donald, is younger than me. He’s a policeman.”

  “A policeman?” Glenn couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. “Does he carry a gun and everything?”

  “Sure does. A big gun, too.”

  “Does he shoot people?”

  Dillon fought a smile. “No, he says his job is to keep from having to shoot people.”

  “But he’d shoot a bad guy, wouldn’t he?”

  “Only if he had to. Police don’t want to shoot people. They’d rather talk people through their problems. Talking is better.”

  “Talking is dumb,” Glenn said and Dillon heard the withdrawal in his words.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “People say a lot of things they don’t mean. Talk, talk, talk.”

  Dillon’s heart ached because of the disappointment his son had faced. “Sometimes people can’t help it when things change. It’s not that they don’t mean what they say. It’s just that things happen that they have no control over.”

  “Yeah,” Glenn said with skepticism.

  “So, how did the game go today?” Dillon asked. He could see that the other line of conversation was leading to a dead end.

  Glenn lowered his head. “We lost.”

  “What was the score?”

  “Eleven to ten.”

  “That was a close game. Your team must have played well. What position do you play?”

  Glenn peeked up at him, but quickly dropped his eyes. “First base. I lost the game for us. I struck out. If I had hit the ball, the guy on base could have come in.”

  “You would have tied, but it doesn’t mean you would have won.”

  “Well, at least I wouldn’t have lost it for us.”

  Dillon wanted so much to touch his son, to comfort him, but he knew now wasn’t the right time. “Well, that’s one thing about sports. Sometimes you win. Other times you lose. The key thing is that you play your best. Did you play your best?”

  Glenn nodded. “It didn’t do no good. The guys were all mad at me.”

  “Maybe you need to practice your batting some more. If you want, I could help you.”

  Glenn lifted his head. At the neediness in the boy’s wide expression, Dillon’s stomach clenched. “You know how to play baseball?” Glenn asked.

  “Sure. I was a pitcher. I still pitch on a summer team. I could throw you some, and you could practice your batting.”

  Glenn looked as if he was struggling. He wanted to accept the help, but he wasn’t ready to be friendly with this man who said he was his father.

  “Why don’t you come on down from the tree house?” Dillon suggested. “We’ll toss the ball around. If you decide you don’t want to do it after a while, we can stop. What can it hurt? And it might help your game.”

  Dillon started down the ladder, hoping Glenn w
ould follow him. When he reached the bottom, he glanced up and saw Glenn looking down at him with a questioning frown on his face.

  “Where’s the ball?” Dillon asked.

  Glenn hesitated, then turned around and went back into the tree house. He came out with two gloves, a ball and a bat. Dillon breathed a sigh of relief when his son started down the ladder.

  “You’re going to get a crick in your neck,” Sue said from behind Monique. Sue had started preparing dinner even though Dillon had offered to take them all out to eat.

  Monique turned from the window where she had been watching Dillon talk to Glenn. She’d breathed a sigh of relief when Glenn had followed Dillon down the ladder and they’d started tossing the baseball.

  “So, how are they doing?” Sue asked.

  Monique told her what she’d seen.

  “Seems they’re off to a good start,” Sue observed. “How do you think Dillon feels about barbecue ribs?”

  “Sure, Dillon eats ribs.” Monique walked over to the stove and lifted the cover on one of the pots. “Want me to put some potatoes in the oven?”

  “That’d be good.”

  Monique moved to the pantry and got the potatoes.

  “So how are things between you and Dillon?”

  “There are no things between me and Dillon. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  “Hmm.”

  Monique took the potatoes to the sink and began cleaning the dirt off of them. “What does ‘Hmm’ mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on, Sue. Say what’s on your mind.”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at him. You’re still in love with him, Monique. Don’t kid yourself.”

  “I’m not in love with him,” Monique retorted. “Not really.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Monique turned off the faucet, turned around and leaned back against the sink. She didn’t quite understand her own feelings, and if anybody could help, Sue could. “When I remember how we were together, how much he loved me, and how much I loved and needed him, yes, I can honestly say I do love him.”

  “But?”

  Monique sighed. “But I’m not sure if I love a memory or if I love the man Dillon is now. Heck, I don’t even know the man he is now.”

  Sue slid the ribs into the oven. “Maybe you know more about him than you give yourself credit for.”

  Monique couldn’t think about Dillon, or look at him, without remembering the past, so she didn’t see how Sue could be right. She told her so.

  “Think about it, Monique. What do you know about the adult Dillon?”

  “He loves his son, or I should say sons. And he seems to enjoy being with them. I saw it with him and Calvin, and now I see it with him and Glenn.” She turned and gazed out the window at father and son again. “Right now, he seems to be having as much fun as Glenn.”

  “That’s a good characteristic, I’d think,” Sue said.

  “Of course, it is,” Monique answered. “Seeing him with the boys makes me want to love him.”

  “I sense there’s another but.”

  “Yeah, I can’t be in love with him just because he’s good with his children.”

  “So, you’re saying that you’re not attracted to him?”

  Monique turned away from the window again. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she hedged. She was most definitely attracted to Dillon. She wished she were free to touch him when she wanted.

  “So he’s a good father and you’re attracted to him. What else does a good mate have to have?” Before Monique could answer, Sue added, “I know. What about his job situation? Is he a good provider?”

  “I think so. He has a respectable job and he provides a home for him and Calvin.” She considered for a moment, then said, “Yes, he’s a good provider.”

  “Well, he’s a good father, you’re attracted to him and he’s a good provider. That seems to me to cover the biggies. Unless you can think of something else?”

  “Trust and love,” she said softly. “Dillon no longer trusts me, and without trust, he can’t love me.”

  Sue wiped her hands on a dishcloth, then went and pulled Monique into her arms. “Dillon still has strong feelings for you, Monique. He’s fighting them right now, but he has them.”

  Monique accepted the comfort that Sue offered, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t afford to start thinking seriously about her and Dillon as a couple, as a family. No, she had to be realistic. She could dream about something that would never happen, but she would not allow herself to hope. She couldn’t give the Fates another chance to snatch away her dreams.

  Chapter Seven

  Monique stood in the doorway of the den and watched her son and his father playing video games like two children.

  “Gotcha, Dillon,” Glenn said. “I’m killing you.”

  “Not yet,” Dillon answered. “I can still get you.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Yes, I can. Watch this!”

  “Oh, no.” Glenn fell back on the couch. “You got me.”

  Monique walked into the room. “And it’s time for you to go to bed, young man.”

  Glenn turned to her. “Aw, Mom, we were just getting started. Do I have to go to bed now?”

  “Yes, you do. You’ve already stayed up past your bedtime. It’s almost ten o’clock. You should have been in bed right after your bath.”

  “Can’t we play just one more game?”

  Monique opened her mouth to deny her son’s request, but Dillon spoke first. “Yeah, Mom, just one more game.”

  Glenn laughed and Monique propped her hands on her hips and put a frown on her face. “You’re as bad as Glenn. No, no, no. Both of you need to get ready for bed.”

  Dillon laughed and ran his hand across Glenn’s head. Monique’s heart went soft with the casual exchange between father and son. “Say good-night, Glenn,” he said.

  “Good night, Glenn,” the boy said, looking at Dillon. They both burst out laughing.

  Dillon touched his son’s head again, almost as if he couldn’t help himself. “You’d better head for bed. Your mother doesn’t think we’re too funny.”

  Glenn looked up at Monique. “All right. Are you gonna be here tomorrow?” he asked Dillon.

  Dillon nodded. “I’ll be here all weekend. We’ll practice your hitting again tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Night, Glenn.”

  “Night, Dillon.”

  “Night, Mom.”

  Monique stopped Glenn as he was about to pass her to leave the room. “Aren’t you going to give your old mom a hug?”

  Glenn sneaked a peek back at Dillon, who wisely turned his head. Glenn turned back to Monique and gave her a quick hug. “Night, Mom,” he said again.

  “Night, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

  With that, Glenn shot out of the room.

  “He certainly has a lot of energy.” Dillon slumped onto the sofa and yawned. “If you hadn’t sent him to bed, I think I would have gone to sleep on him.”

  Monique sat on the love seat across from him. “Your room’s ready if you want to go to bed.”

  He sat up straighter. “I’d like to talk for a while if you don’t mind.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t mind. I wanted to talk, too. I think today went pretty well, don’t you?”

  “It’s a decent start,” Dillon said with a nod. “He’s not ready for another father just yet, but I think he can accept another friend.”

  Monique nodded. “I noticed he called you Dillon. How do you feel about that?”

  A wry smile crossed his face. “Of course, I wish he’d call me Daddy, but I can wait on that. It’ll come in time. He’s a good boy, Monique. You’ve done a great job with him.”

  “Thank you,” she said, enjoying his praise. “Sue’s been a lot of help.”

  “She’s quite a woman. How does she feel about all this?”

  She knew h
e referred to his being Glenn’s natural father. “It’s never been a secret in our family, Dillon. Charles knew and she knows. She only wants what’s best for Glenn.” Monique didn’t think she should tell him about Sue’s expectations of a romantic relationship between the two of them.

  “Aren’t you gonna miss her when you move back to Elberton?” he asked.

  She folded her legs under her. “That’s why I’m trying to convince her to come with us. So far, she’s not going for it.”

  “I like her.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell her. She likes you, too. She thinks, and I agree with her, that you’re good for Glenn.”

  Dillon took a deep breath. “I know I’ve given you a hard time for not telling me about Glenn when you first found out you were pregnant. But I want you to know that I appreciate your telling me now. I realize that you didn’t have to.”

  Monique’s throat felt full. “I did it for Glenn,” she said. “He needs you and he needs your family. They’re his family, too.”

  “And they can’t wait to meet him. I had to bribe Ma to make her stay home this weekend. She wanted to come see her grandson.”

  Monique wished she could have been a fly on the wall when Dillon had told his family. “I bet they had some not-so-nice things to say about me.”

  “They were concerned.”

  Monique chuckled. “You don’t have to be nice, Dillon. I know your parents never liked me.”

  Dillon studied her, as if measuring what to say to her. “They didn’t really know you. But I think they’ll like the woman you’ve become.”

  The piercing look he gave her almost made her squirm. “What’s with you, Dillon? Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? Did Sue put something in your water tonight?”

  Dillon stood up, walked over and sat next to her on the love seat. “I guess I deserve your skepticism. But in spite of everything you’ve done, Monique, you’re a good mother. You’re good with Glenn and you’re good with Calvin. When my folks see that side of you, their opinion of you will change. I’m sure.”

  Monique decided she liked the angry Dillon much better than the tender, sweet one before her now. The angry one she could resist; the sweet one endangered her heart. She looked away from him. “It doesn’t matter.”