Pulling Him Closer

"Would you get to the point?"

"I think, Mr. Sanger, I already have. I knew Rachel and the man she was seeing became very close years ago. I know she felt strongly enough to be impulsive, and, well … I'm not naive , Mr. Singer. I was once her age."

I stood so rapidly from my desk my knee barked in agony. I ignored it. I couldn't understand the intensity of the fury and rage I was feeling. I was simultaneously numbed by and awash in it.

"It's Sanger , and you've taken far too much of my time. I need to get back to my class. I will escort you out, and I suggest you not return. You're no longer welcome here."

Considering I was holstering a Beretta 96A1 and how angrily and forcefully I spoke, I probably frightened the woman. She remained stunned and silent as I fast-walked her to the front doors, held one open, and gestured vigorously through it.

Bing was still working at the same station where she'd been. I walked her direction.

"Put that … that woman on the blacklist. I don't ever want to see her in here again," I said succinctly, not breaking my stride as I returned to the classroom.

As soon as I stepped in and observed the dozen people waiting for me to resume the class, I knew I'd be unable to continue it effectively. I couldn't focus or concentrate on anything other than what I had just been told, and I was in too much pain to stand on my feet because my leg was throbbing from my knee to my ankle.

"I am terribly sorry for the trouble," I said, doing my best to hold my tone cool and steady, "but I'm afraid something urgent has come up which requires me to cancel the remainder of this session."

I heard various audible reactions from those seated at the tables.

"I'll credit everyone with four complimentary range hours in compensation for wasting your time. One of my assistants outside will help reschedule if you choose. If you would rather not schedule a new slot, you'll be fully refunded, and again, my apologies. Can't be helped."

I retreated and radioed Bing with instructions on what to do with the dozen undoubtedly confused people who'd shortly file out of the room. I went to my office and shut myself inside. I pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk and removed an amber bottle I hadn't touched in ages. I opened its cap, shook two white tablets into my palm, then washed them down with the tepid remains of a bottle of water that'd been sitting there since that morning. The pills rapidly dissolved in my overly active stomach, so I had to follow them with two antacids.

An opioid-induced fog began to settle on me as I sat there becoming chemically dazed and mentally confused, trying to understand the information with which I'd been waylaid.

How did this happen? Why would RJ hide such a thing from me? How could she? Is she a coward? Did she ask her mother to tell me because she's afraid? Could Claire be mistaken? Do I have a child? A  son? Could the incredible night we spent in each other's arms … what does he look like? What's his name? Does she intend to hide this forever? What is she  thinking? What do I fucking do?

So many questions overlapped in my reeling mind. Trying to quiet it, I shoved my keyboard away, folded my arms on the desktop, and laid my head down. I don't know how long I'd been there when I heard a knock. A few seconds elapsed before someone stepped through the door.

"You okay, boss?" she whispered.

"I'm fine. What the hell do you want?"

"Whoa . Sorry. I'll leave you alone," Bing surrendered, stepping backwards.

"Wait!" I yelped, realizing I was taking my anger out on a totally and completely innocent bystander.

She stepped cautiously back into the room.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"8:15. I've locked up," she answered, picking up the bottle from my desk to read the label.

"Hydrocodone? Oh, boy, Rick. How many did you take?"

"Two. My leg was hurting bad . I haven't needed that medicine in close to a year."

"Jesus. These are twice as strong as what I was prescribed when I had my wisdom teeth out a few years ago, and I was only supposed to take one."

"You're an elf compared to me. I'm probably twice your weight," I chuckled, hoping to defuse the bomb I'd dropped on her.

"So … what happened?" she cautiously asked, sitting in a chair. "You've never snapped at me like that. Not once. Not even close. And the way you hightailed that woman off the premises and told me to throw her name on the do-not-enter list? I was getting a weird vibe from her when she came in, but it looks like she's somehow scared the crap out of you. You don't seem the kind of person to be frightened by a little old lady."

"I can't even begin to apologize enough, Bing. I'd blame the pills, but they usually turned me into a teddy bear, not a jerk. Either way, it'd only be an excuse. I hope … I'm truly sorry I barked at you."

"Forgiven. Thanks."

"Can I ask you a hypothetical but possibly personal question?"

"I guess," she answered.

I slid further forward in my chair then flipped the lever to release the lock of the back. I carefully reclined, propped my foot on the desktop, and removed my brace.

"Assume for the moment you were once in a very close romantic relationship with someone. Years ago. Then, due to bizarre circumstances, you were separated in a way that you totally and completely forgot it all. All of those memories were gone. Like zero left. Zilch. Nada. Absolute nothingness for a number of years. Not even a name ."

"Weird, but go on," she said, furrowing her brows a little.

"The memories suddenly make an incredible return and you're reunited back the way you'd been. Then, a few days later and out of the blue, that person's mother springs the news on you that you have a child with that person, and you were completely unaware."

"Um, just because I'm a blonde doesn't mean I'm dumb enough to not notice being pregnant," she countered quite logically. "I'm tiny. My bump would be huge ."

Bing had an incredible way of using her wit to add levity to tense situations. She was my go-to when Karens or Kyles complained at the facility, and she was incredibly good at it. Gifted even.

"Fair enough, so assume those same bizarre circumstances made it where you couldn't know, and you gave birth and forgot all that, too. No one ever told you, and, just for the sake of argument, the pregnancy didn't alter your appearance in any way you'd notice later."

She laughed and rattled the pills in the bottle. "You're absolutely lit , Rick. Only someone who's stoned could come up with a story so crazy."

"The trauma doctors ordered a full blood workup on me when I was taken to the hospital due to this event," I said, knocking on the brace and pointing to the small scar at the hairline behind my ear. "No drugs were found in my system."

I then spent ten minutes describing the circumstances which led to the disability she was already aware of and the complications of the brain injury she wasn't.

"Oh my god, Rick. So, you had no earthly idea who the woman was you went to lunch with Sunday, and you remembered you had a romantic relationship with her, and you just found out you have a kid together? Are you serious?"

I nodded slowly. "Two hours ago, her mother, from the very chair you're sitting in right now, told me she thinks I'm the father of her daughter's child. This whole time, Rachel hasn't said anything."

"Oh."

"Jeez. Look who I'm talking to. You're barely old enough to buy drinks at a bar. I shouldn't expect you to solve my⁠—"

"You have every right to be pissed, for sure. She had no right getting up in your business like that," she interrupted. "And, tee bee aitch , I'd probably be angry at the hypothetical man, too, but it'd take me more than the few minutes you've given me to figure that part out."

"Why's that?"

"Because, if I really was in that close of a relationship, I hope I'd be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, you know? You and that lady have had less than a week. I'm sure she's as gobsmacked as you are and is trying to figure it out, too."

"Maybe," I said, wrapping my brace around my knee again so I could let Bing out.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I have no clue."

"Give me your phone," she ordered in a way which compelled me to immediately comply. She flicked the switch on its side.

"I've put it on silent," she said. "My advice? Leave it in your kitchen when you get home. You need to rest and sleep this off," she said, once again rattling the bottle of extremely effective pain killers.

As we walked to the front doors, she added, "Let me drive you home. You're technically under the influence of narcotics."

"Nah, I'll stick around here until it wears off."

It wasn't a lie. No one … well, no one other than Rachel or me knew I lived there.

"Uber some food. It'll help."

"Thanks, kid."

"Kid ?" she growled. "Okay, boomer ."

"Did you just call me a boomer ?" I argued. "I'm squarely a Gen Y."

"You're square alright."

"You're fired. Again."

"Only seven times this week which means I didn't break my record because tomorrow is Saturday and I'm not working," she reminded me as she stepped out. "Don't drink any alcohol tonight. Not even a beer, okay? It'd seriously mess you up. Trust me. I know . Get some sleep, and please … get better?"

"Thanks, Bing. Take Mrs. Jarrett off the list. I think my anger was misdirected at her, too."

"I didn't put her on it. I figured you were only reacting to something, and I was planning to double-check with you Sunday."

I smiled. I swear, if she asked me to double her pay, I'd seriously consider it.

Given the ten-plus year gap between our ages, it was hard for me to figure out how she could become such a good friend, but she had. I would have asked for a hug if it didn't seem inappropriate considering I was her employer. If she'd offered one, I'd have accepted it.

I re-locked the doors after she walked out but kept an eye on her as she got into her car. Once she had driven away, I closed the gate then retreated to my hidden realm. I followed Bing's advice and left my phone in the kitchen, crashed on the sofa, and started reading the second Mark Wright book. When I realized I'd read page four three times because I couldn't focus, I closed it and went to bed early.

My leg felt much better the following morning, but at the expense of some nightmarish dreams I'd forgotten were a side effect of taking hydrocodone after six o'clock at night. I went to the kitchen, retrieved and unlocked my phone, then tapped the green iMessage icon which indicated new messages had been received overnight.

8:42 PM
Hey babe! Want to FaceTime?

8:47 PM
Guess you're busy. Text me when you have some time to chat? Or are you mad at me because I can't spend tonight with you? JK! I'm truly sorry. Adulting remember? 😚

10:02 PM
Hope everything's okay. Messages not showing read.

10:29 PM
I'm going to settle in. I have a busy morning, but maybe talk tomorrow afternoon? Miss you! 😘

It was barely six o'clock, much too early to send her a response. It was probably a good thing because I didn't know what it would look like. I used the time while I was making breakfast to consider my options.

I sipped hot coffee as I whisked up muffin batter from a boxed mix. When they came out of the oven, I ate three and sealed the remaining nine in zip-top bags. That action gave me an idea on how to approach the subject.

7:32 AM
I made blueberry muffins. Want to share? I'll bring them over

7:40 AM
Yum! I wish but my place is a bit of a disaster right now so I have to pass

7:41 AM
I've heard children can be messy

I was left on read for a while.

7:46 AM
Your mother paid me a visit yesterday evening verbal guns blazing. I was hit. Is it true? You're a mom?

My phone rang several minutes later. Rachel's name and picture were on the screen.

"Hi," I answered as calmly as I could.

"This isn't a conversation we should be having with texts," she said with angst in her voice which didn't surprise me in the slightest.

"You're right. It's not," I agreed. "Is it true?"

She sighed resignedly. "Yes."

"Am I his father?" I asked.

I found myself clenching my free hand into a fist and scrunching my eyes tightly closed as I waited what felt like an eternity before she answered.

"Yeah," she whispered with a sniffle. "There's no way you're not."

"How can you be sure? Unless my memory is failing me again, I used condoms every time."

"Baby … Rick, we have to talk in person. We can't be doing this over the phone. I need to see your face to know what you're feeling."

"Then let's FaceTime."

"Not good enough. I want to see you in per⁠—hang on."

I heard the voice of a child in the background. I focused on its timbre and felt myself smiling uncontrollably.

"Nothing's wrong, booger, I promise. Now, finish your cereal because we need to leave in a few minutes. It's swim lesson day, so pool time. Hurry it up," I heard Rachel say.

"Yay!" the tiny voice hollered excitedly.

It sounded like she'd withdrawn her phone or covered its microphone with her hand, but I could still hear her instructions. I smiled even harder at the nickname she called him and felt tears forming in my eyes.

"I hate that I have plans right now. Adulting, you know … I have to let you go or we'll be late to swimming lessons. After that, I have some other things to do which can't wait, but I swear, Rick, I want to meet you today so we can talk face to face."

My desire to see my child was so strong it bordered on visceral. I pressed.

"Let me know when, okay? I can step out and meet you wherever you want. Maybe I can come watch his swim lesson?"

"I'll drop by O2T as soon as I can."

"Please, RJ, bring him with you, okay?"

Again, I heard a stronger sniffle, and another sigh. "I don't know if that would be a good idea."

"Why not ?" I begged, trying not to sound desperate and probably failing miserably.

"I have to go. We're going to be late. See you soon."

"Promise?"

"I promise, baby. Bye."

My phone beeped, indicating the call had been dropped.

I don't know where the tears came from. At first, they were induced by the sound of a little kiddo's voice. My child. I wanted the voice to conjure an image of him in my mind, but it didn't. I wanted to know what he looked like. I wanted to know how tall he was. I wanted to know if he was a beanpole like I was as a kid and what color his eyes and hair were. I wanted to see him, but I was beginning to doubt it would happen.

Is she going to keep him from me? What's going through her mind right now? Do I even have any  right to see him? I'm his father. Surely I do … or  do I?

My brain posited dozens of scenarios as I showered and readied for my workday. I knew I needed answers, and fast. As soon as I dressed and secured my residence, I went to my office and pulled up my customer/client list on the desktop computer. I then made a phone call.

"Hey, Todd," I spoke to the person who answered. "It's Rick Sanger calling from Option Two. Can I steal a few minutes of your time?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"I remember a while back, you described the circumstances of how you and Brenda came to meet, and that you adopted her daughter as soon as you and her were married. Is my memory fogged?"

"Nope, you're spot on. The petition was filed in the Fort Bend County Court almost the very day the statutory wait had been satisfied, and it was finalized pretty quickly. Why do you ask?"

"Was your family law attorney a good one? Would you recommend him or her?"

"You bet I would. Again, mind if I ask why you're interested?"

"Let's just say I'm asking for a friend and leave it at that for now."

"Ah. Understood. If I still have his contact info in my phone, I'll text it to you shortly. Otherwise, I'll send you the URL to the practice's website."

"I appreciate it a lot. Thank you."

"Not a problem."

I disconnected the call. Sure enough, an iMessage arrived with a contact card which I immediately saved. Knowing it would be unlikely for an attorney to answer on a weekend, I figured there'd be no harm in leaving a voice message. Instead, the call was answered on its third ring.

"Oh, hello," I said, mildly surprised because the human answer had thrown me for a loop. "My name is Rick Sanger, and I was given a recommendation of your firm by one of your former clients, Todd Carlson."

"Oh, yeah! Todd and Brenda are great folks. What can I do for you?"

I explained my concerns.

"Whoa. You're putting the cart way out in front of the horse."

"Yeah, I get it. I just learned about him yesterday."

"Take a breath, Mr. Sanger. There's not much you can do right now. You don't even know if it's going to be an issue or not."

"I understand, but I want to get an idea of what avenues I have if his mother won't allow me to meet my son."

I heard the unmistakable ping of an iron swatting a golf ball and realized the man must have been on the links. I regretted interrupting his game but decided to stick with it.

"Do you suspect that's what's likely?" he asked.

"I hope not, but, honestly, I have no idea."

"You need to let the situation play out further. If she's dead set against letting you have visitation, you still have options in court. Assuming there's no other mitigating factors to deal with, you'll at the very least be required to sign an AOP, an acknowledgment of paternity. When you do, you're not only allowed to press for your rights to be enumerated and enforced, but you'll also be agreeing to support the child in ways which may need to be litigated. Rights and responsibilities go together."

"I think I understand. Would you be able to represent me if it happens?"

"If Mr. Carlson recommended me, that's a yes."

"Good to know. Thanks."

"Feel free to call after you know more."

"Will do. Goodbye."

RACHEL JARRETT
The Claire Jarrett residence
11:17 AM

"What the hell did you do ?" I yelled as soon as I found her in her laundry room.

"What are you talking about, dear?" she asked, feigning total ignorance as she resumed folding a bath towel.

Out of sheer habit, I pulled another from the dryer and began folding, too.

"Don't play ignorant with me, Mother. I talked to Rick a few hours ago. He told me you paid him a surprise visit and what you said. I would have called earlier and chewed your ass out if Jack wasn't with me. How the hell could you have done such a thing? Yesterday, I asked you for advice , not an intervention . Why couldn't you stay in your lane? Why did you have to stick your fingers into it and speak for me ?"

"Because you didn't speak for yourself."

"Yet , Mother. Yet !"

"Why were you waiting?"

"Seriously? Are you senile ? Rick went through an incredibly deep hell for a year! Didn't you consider the possibility how springing on him, just a week after he recovered his memories of me, that he has a child might be devastating ? It could cause a potential neurological crisis !