Built

“What happened?” Beryl kept her voice low and I could see worry filling my mom’s eyes. They were the exact same color as my own so I knew by the way they darkened that she was already expecting the worst and that made my heart squeeze and my breath lock up in my lungs. That was exactly the reaction I was dreading. I was back to having her look past me and seeing only the things I was capable of. I was used to being judged, but it hurt a little more when it came from someone you loved unquestioningly.

“A girl showed up at my jobsite this week and gave me some news that flipped my world upside down.”

Beryl’s fingers curled into my shoulder. “What happened to the lawyer you were all hung up on? The one you worked yourself to death trying to impress by building her your dream home?”

I shook my head slowly and bent to put my elbows on my knees so I could hold my head in my hands. She knew me too well. Sure the house was Sayer’s vision and her ultimate dream, but the work I put into her Victorian, the way I agonized and labored over every part of the remodel, meant I left a part of myself in the structure. Sayer’s home was my dream home and she didn’t even know it.

“This isn’t about some girl, Beryl … well, it is but not like that. Sayer is actually the friend I went to see to ask for help. She’s a family attorney … which I may need because there is a good chance I might have a family.”

“What?!” The whispered exclamation came from my mother followed by a whole slew of surprised curse words from my sister.

I pressed my fingers into my temples and sighed again. “Like I said, this girl showed up on my jobsite and dropped a bomb. She was pretty shaken but managed to tell me that her friend that had recently passed away identified me as the father of her child. A child that is currently on his way into foster care.”

“Oh, Zeb.” My mom’s voice was soft and I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes.

“You can’t just believe some stranger, Zeb. Where’s the proof? This is ridiculous.” I knew Beryl would immediately go into defensive mode, and while I appreciated it, the proof was pretty clear when the child in question had my face.

I pulled out my phone and pulled up the image. Without a word, I put the phone down in the center of the table and waited for my family to take it all in. Tears immediately shined over my mother’s eyes, and for once Beryl seemed to have nothing to say.

“The proof is in the picture. I didn’t just believe her, and there are things about her story that add up and make me believe the boy could be mine. When I got out of prison I wasn’t in a good place. It was almost as hard to come home as it was to go in. Before I saw you guys after more than two years of being away, I needed a minute to get my shit together. That minute was full of some reckless choices on my part. Choices that very well could mean the boy is mine.”

My mom picked up the phone and I saw her hands shake. “This looks exactly like your picture from the first day of kindergarten, except you had on a Star Wars T-shirt.”

“I know, Mom.”

I finally looked up at my sister, who was staring at me with a mixture of compassion, aggravation, and that soul-deep understanding that we were ultimately in this together.

“What did the lawyer say?”

I couldn’t stop the little snicker that slipped out as I sat back up in the seat and laced my fingers behind my head. “Before or after I kissed her?”

“Zeb!” My mom gave me a hard look and my sister just shook her head.

“Really? You thought ‘hey I may have a child floating out there in the world somewhere’ was a good pickup line? I hope she kicked you in the balls.”

“She told me that she would work on getting the state to put a paternity test in place first thing tomorrow, though I think we all know what the outcome is going to be. There is no doubt in my mind that the boy is mine.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “And then she kissed me back.”

“Okay, and once the paperwork proves paternity, what happens next? Have you thought any of this through, Zeb? Are you really ready to be a dad full-time? What about your company? You work all the time.” They were the same questions that had been chasing themselves around in circles in my mind ever since Echo had ambushed me, and my answer always ended up being the same.

“Of course I’m not ready. I have no clue how to be a parent or how to take care of a child, but this isn’t about me. That kid needs me. There is no reason for him to be caught up in the system when I’m here and can take care of him. He’s my responsibility.” And these were the last two people in the world that would ever question how seriously I took my responsibilities in life.

“Okay, then. You just let me know what you need me to do. You know I’ll support you any way I can, Zeb.” Beryl reached out and ruffled the hair on the top of my head just like she used to do when we were little kids. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’ll make a wonderful father no matter how it happened to come about. No one loves as fiercely as you do, little brother.”

My mom reluctantly put the phone back on the table so I could reach out and slide it back toward me.

Beryl and I both watched her as she remained silent and on the verge of tears for long-drawn-out minutes. I kept waiting for her to say something, anything, and just when I was going to break the silence with an apology of rushed words, she got up and walked around the table and stopped right in front of me. I had to swallow hard to keep back the emotion that welled up in me. There was no disappointment or censure in her dark green gaze, none of the judgment that I feared with every breath I took. There was only open and endless love.

She bent down and wrapped her arms around me in a hug that felt like everything I wasn’t aware I needed since hearing the news a few days ago.

She kissed me on the top of the head and whispered, “What’s his name, Zeb? What’s my grandson’s name?”

It took me a minute to find my voice and to get my arms to move so I could hug her back. I had to clear my throat around all the feelings that seemed to be clogged there before I could answer her.

“His name is Hyde.” I really needed to start with that instead of just calling him the kid or the boy. He needed to be real and solid. He needed to be more than just a fuzzy and cloudy idea of a thing that would forever change my life. He was a tiny, little person. He was my tiny, little person and I needed to get not only my head wrapped around that but my heart as well.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why is Grandma crying and hugging Uncle Zeb?” Joss’s tiny voice was concerned, so my mom pulled back and gave me a teary smile.

“Your uncle just told me a secret that made me happy, is all. They’re happy tears.”

Joss’s delicate features curled up and her eyes narrowed at all the adults gathered around the table. “Secrets aren’t nice.”

Beryl reached out and tugged on the end of her daughter’s ponytail. “Some are. Some are just a surprise that you have to wait for the right time to share.”

Joss’s mouth puckered and she crossed her arms over her thin chest. She had her mother’s fight and stubbornness in her without a doubt.

“Is it a secret about my birthday? Am I getting the puppy I want?” Her petulant tone made me laugh and had Beryl sighing.

“Not everything is about your birthday, Joss. It’s still three months away and I told you that I think we’re gone from home too much to take care of a puppy right now.”

Miniature dark eyebrows that matched Beryl’s perfectly shot up, and I saw the spark of mischief light up my niece’s blue eyes right before she threw her mom under the bus.

“Well, if the secret isn’t about my birthday, is it about that guy, Wes, who’s been coming over for dinner all the time? Did you tell Uncle Zeb and he told Grandma? I bet that would make her cry happy tears. She’s always saying you need a man friend.”

My sister screeched her daughter’s name over my laughter. I stuck my hand out and Joss gave me a miniature fist bump right before running off as my mother called Beryl’s name in much the same tone as the one my sister was using to holler at my niece.

“You have a boyfriend?” My mom sounded incredulous and delighted at the same time. Beryl was pretty and smart, but her experience with men had left her standoffish and overly protective of both herself and her daughter. There had been a short-term guy here and there over the years but no one that seemed special enough to keep around. Whoever this Wes was, he was already miles ahead of any other guy that had been on the track if Beryl had let him not only into her home but around Joss.

My sister flushed a hot red and fiddled anxiously with the ends of her long hair. “I have a friend who may be more than that, yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why haven’t we met him?” My mom was going into full-on mother mode and all I could do was sit back and watch. Beryl glared at me as I grinned at her, grateful some of the focus was now off of me.

“Yeah, why haven’t we met him?” I couldn’t keep the teasing humor out of my voice.

“Ugh. Because I’m not sure what I’m doing with him. I met him at work. He’s a customer at the bank. He asked me out for coffee and I turned him down. The next time he came in he asked again, and again, until I said yes. He’s persistent and funny. He’s really nice and has a good job. He’s a natural with Joss, and really I think he’s too good to be true, so I’m just waiting for the prince to turn back into a frog or for him to show his true colors. If I introduced him to you guys, that would be admitting that I want him to stick around. I’m trying really hard not to get attached.”

It was my turn to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder for a comforting squeeze. “Nothing wrong with hitching your wagon to a proven winner, sis.”

She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. “Ugh … don’t say that. It’ll just make it harder when it all falls apart.”

Neither one of us had ever been very lucky in love. The first man my sister gave her heart to hurt her physically and the first girl that I thought I was going to spend forever with hadn’t been able to handle the dire consequences I faced after I exacted justice from my sister’s abuser. But despite all of that I felt like I needed to remind her that “Some things are built to last and won’t fall apart no matter how much force or stress is put on them. Look at those old beauties I work with every day. They’ve been around for over a century, and while they might be weathered and worn they’re still standing.”

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