Page 24 of Almost Paradise

“Friendly, my ass,” Audrey says under her breath.

“Wyatt is here as a friend. I didn’t even want him to come,” Drake says.

“Then why is he here?” Audrey shakes her head in disbelief.

“It’s okay,” I tell my cousin. “Let’s talk in the backyard,” I say to Drake. “If I need you, Audrey, I’ll yell.” I grab my coat and tell Drake to follow me. I go to the back of the house, through the kitchen, and out the back door. Audrey and Wyatt follow, but they don’t come outside. They both watch through the sliding glass door.

The weather hasn’t gotten any warmer. If anything, the winds are even more unforgiving. I zip up my long black coat, put on my hood, and wrap my arms around myself.

“Today has been wonderful. Thank you for that,” he says. He surprises me. I didn’t expect a thank you, so I bite back my rebuke and don’t remind him that he’s only here because he threatened to take me to court. “He’s a wonderful little boy. So smart and sweet. Very loving. His sweetness reminds me of how you used to be.”

I take a step back at the audacity of this jerk. “First off,” I begin, “I know he’s smart. I know he’s kind, and I know he’s loving. You want to know how I know? I know because I’ve been here since he came into the world.” I point at myself. “Even before that. I carried him. I’ve loved him since I knew he was a possibility. I don’t need you to condescend to me about things I already know.” I turn and give him my back.

“You think I would have missed this if I had known? I’ve lost out on three years. Three years that I can never get back because you couldn’t bother to find me and tell me you were pregnant with my baby. And don’t you turn your back on me,” he orders.

I turn to face him, not because he told me to, but because I want to see the audacity in his eyes.

“Liar!” I yell in his face. “You liar. You think I typed those letters on my own? It’s there in black and white. You wanted nothing to do with us. Admit it. Now you’ve changed your mind and you’re rewriting history. Own up to what you did.” I look him up and down before looking away.

“You think I’m the type of man who would do that?”

“All I know is you haven’t been here for the past three years other than those monthly child support payments. If there was a way for me to contact you, I could have told you that I don’t need it. And you’re only here, Paradise, because you threatened to take me to court. You know I don’t have the resources to fight you, so you threatened me. That’s the type of man you are.”

“That’s complete bull. Do you hear yourself? We spent almost every day together for twelve months. How did I treat you for all that time? It must not have been too bad because you kept coming back. And before you open your mouth to spew more lies, I put you on a pedestal. I cared about you. I thought of nothing but you since I laid eyes on you. There was no one else for me, and then you pull the rug out from undermeand disappear. You blocked me from your life.”

I clap slowly and dramatically. “And the Academy goes to….” I give him my back again, but I say, “Yeah, you put me on a pedestal,” I scoff. “You took me to a penthouse no one knew you owned. You talked about me to no one. Those dinners or parties your family seemed to have every week? I never got an invitation. Those high society charity events? I was never your plus one. I was your dirty little black secret.”

“Now, who deserves an Academy Award? My dirty little black secret? Get the hell out of here with that shit. That’s offensive. I took you everywhere. We took trips. We went to dinners where we held hands and fed each other. I taught you how to drive. We were together all the time in public where anyone could see us. You were never a secret. And what about me? Was I your dirty white secret because I sure as hell don’t remember getting any invitations to your family’s house for anything? I’d hear all about it the next day, but I was never included. Or better yet, you’d leave me at your apartment on Sundays so you could go to church and have dinner with your family. Remember those times?”

I turn just in time to see some hurt in his eyes. “Did you want to be included?”

“Yes,” he says without a moment’s hesitation.

“That’s all water under the bridge,” I say. “What did you want to talk about? Are you going to take me to court and take my son away from me?” I stand straighter, ready for a fight. Fighting with him, I can do. What I refuse to do is look back on all the mistakes we made all those years ago. What would it have changed? He still abandoned me when I was pregnant with his baby.

“You think I’m some kind of monster, don’t you?” When I remain quiet, he says, “So, I guess you don’t believe me when I tell you I never got your messages or that I didn’t send those texts? I wasn’t behind the cease-and-desist letter either. Well, I don’t believe you tried to contact me. You knew where to find me. You think being pregnant with my baby would make you put in more effort than a few text messages.” This time it’s him who scoffs.

“If rewriting history makes you feel better, go ahead. That won’t change the facts. Why did you call me out here? The sound of your voice is giving me a headache.”

He pulls an envelope out of his pocket and hands it to me. I brace myself and expect him to serve me with a custody lawsuit, but that’s not what this is. It’s a form to request a name change. Confused, I stare at him, not understanding what this means.

“He’s a Paradise, and I want him to have my last name,” he orders. I flip to the next page, and it’s a list of pre-schools. “All of those schools are a million times better than the shitty one you have him enrolled at. Pick one. I know they are a bit out of the way, so his driver will come by and pick him up for school.”

That’s a side of Drake Paradise I remember. Authoritative, decisive, and downright bossy. No one is to question him. That’s how he was raised, I guess. His word goes, but that’s never worked with me. His word doesn’t mean shit here.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“You heard me. I’m not going to repeat myself.” I’m not going to repeat myself. That’s another one of his favorite sayings. I’ve heard him say that many times to an employee.

I look at the papers again, walk closer to him, rip them in half, and throw them in his face, but the wind blows them away. At that exact moment, Audrey and Wyatt walk out.

“I knew he couldn’t be trusted,” Audrey says. She runs off the porch to retrieve the torn papers. “I knew you were lying. You think you can just walk in here and take a little boy from his mother?”

Wyatt follows her. He’s faster and gets the papers before she can, but she snatches them from him.

While they fight over torn pieces of paper, I point my index finger in Drake’s face. “You elitist, entitled jerk.” He bristles at that. “Don’t youeverquestion how I raise my son. Who the hell are you to come here and make any kinds of demands? I wish to God you had stayed away.”

“I’m doing no such thing, and for the record, he’s my son too. I want the best for him. Did I wrongly assume that you do as well?” He has the nerve to point in my face. I knock his hand away.

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