Page 13 of Shaded Amethysts
It didn’t make sense. What would she see in a high school dropout and felon, who had seen and done the unsavory things that I had experienced during my lifetime? She would be appalled if she knew the full truth about me.
No, sweet Avery should have a doctor by her side, who could support her in the manner she deserved. She should be with someone she would be proud to call her husband. I would bring her nothing but shame and embarrassment as the town’s rumor mill churned with suspicions about my seedy past.
Knowing these truths and accepting them were two different things. No matter how much I rationalized to myself that Avery should be with Noah, I still didn’t want it to be true. I wanted her for myself––more than I’ve ever craved anyone.
I wasn’t dumb, despite what some people believed. I knew that everyone suspected me of every little crime that had happened in Brunswick Bay Harbor since my arrival, but what could I say to defend myself? I sure didn’t want them to start poking into my criminal history, or I would have to tuck tail and leave town shrouded in shame. Whatever rumors that happened to be flying around about me were bound to be better than the ugly truth.
I’d moved here hoping to escape my past, having no idea that Noah had the exact same idea. Imagine my surprise when I learned that we’d each taken our share of the inheritance after Grammy’s passing and returned to settle in the one place we’d managed to find a sliver of happiness during our troubled childhoods.
Evidently, neither of us could completely escape our pasts. Despite the vastly different paths we’d taken to get here, we’d both been led back to the same place. As would be expected, Noah was a respected, welcomed member of the community, while I was viewed as a suspicious drifter, who didn’t belong and never would. No wonder the man wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn’t blame him for that. I would do nothing but taint his stellar reputation.
Although I’ve always tried to act tough, I saw the wary looks and hushed whispers that inevitably happened when I came near. I would never admit it to anyone, but it hurt that people made so many assumptions about my life before ever even speaking a word to me. It felt like I was fighting an uphill battle on a speeding treadmill that would never let me make any headway.
I guess it was my own fault. My time in prison had left me gruff looking. I had too many tats and too much facial hair to be viewed as a gentleman. Bulking up my body had been a survival instinct on the inside. The meaner you looked, the greater your chances of being left alone. That was really all I wanted… to be left alone… until I met Avery.
That blasted woman had me picturing living in a quaint, clapboard house with a front porch swing, a handful of kids as cute as Scout running around, and even a pet or two––like the sweet kitten we’d rescued together. I’d never pictured myself as a family man because I didn’t have a good example of what it meant to be a father. Hell, I didn’t even have a shitty example of how to be a decent dad. My old man left before I was born, and my stepdad… Well, let’s just say, I have no intention of ever being anything like that abusive bastard.
Unfortunately, I was starting to realize that a beautiful life with a loving family simply wasn’t meant to be for me. When my life had stopped moving forward in prison, I had convinced myself that I would get a second chance to live the life of my dreams after my release. But it was beginning to dawn on me that some mistakes followed you for a lifetime––even if you tried to hide out all the way up in rural, coastal Maine.
If I was smart, I would stay far away from Avery and the potential heartbreak we could cause each other. Too bad no one ever accused me of being a smart man.
11
Avery
Ipaced my room and stewed. Scout didn’t seem to mind the back-and-forth motion, but he was starting to get heavy in my arms. Ignoring that, I whirled around and said out loud, “Murder?!? Is it possible that the sweet, gentle man who played with you today and stopped in the street to save a kitten is a murderer?”
Of course, I didn’t expect the young child to come up with an answer for me, but he blinked up at me as if he was trying his best.
“That can’t be right, can it?” I asked after whirling around and walking across the room in the other direction.
“What can’t be right?” Molly’s voice came from the doorway, startling me.
Rather than answering her, I gave her a perplexed look and asked, “What are you doing here? You should be enjoying your wedding night. Scout and I are doing just fine.”
“I know you are,” Molly strolled over to take the baby, who bounced with happiness at the sight of her. She tickled him lightly under the chin, making him giggle before resting her cheek on the top of his head and breathing in deeply.
“You can’t stand being away from him for one night?” I guessed.
Molly shook her head, but I saw the tears welling in her lower lids, so I asked, “What’s wrong?”
My friend’s tone was practically a wail when she answered, “Grant’s team of lawyers just reached out with a custody settlement agreement. It calls for Scout to be with his birth mother in California the vast majority of the year. We would only get to have him here for three weeks in the summer and a couple of long weekends over the holidays.”
I gently took Scout from her arms and placed him on the soft blanket on the carpet with a few of his colorful toys before I rushed over to my friend and pulled her in for a hug. After a long embrace, I asked, “They aren’t suggesting you sign that agreement, are they?”
Molly let out a quiet sob before answering, “They think it is likely the best deal we are going to get. They are afraid if we go to court, the judge is going to demand that we move to California in order to have any visitation with our son.”
“That can’t be right,” I murmured quietly, not quite able to believe this was actually happening.
“Grant just got off the phone with them, and they sent the contract over for our signatures, but I wanted to talk to you before signing anything,” Molly said.
Suddenly feeling outraged on her behalf, I yelled, “That isn’t fair! You two are his parents. You’ve been taking care of him all of this time. Where has she been? She doesn’t deserve to saunter in now and steal him away.”
My outburst evidently startled Scout because he stared up at me with enormous blue eyes. I didn’t want the child to be frightened, so I plastered on a fake smile and said, “It’s okay, sweet boy. You can keep playing with your toys.”
My calm assurance did the trick, and he went back to banging on his toy cell phone––obviously having no idea that his life might be getting ready to be completely turned upside down.
“Do you think we should sign it?” Molly asked me with wide eyes before quickly rushing on. “With this deal, at least Scout would get to spend some time here with my family. If we lose in court and the judge makes us relocate to California to spend time with him, we would, of course, but my family would hardly ever get to see him.”
