“Let’s go show these fools who is boss, and we will give your dad and Maggie some privacy. Come on,” Jaxon says, still holding out his hand, but Dillion doesn’t say a word. He looks at me, then Maggie, and shrivels away from Jaxon.
“He’s shy, and he isn’t much of a talker,” Maggie says, wrapping her arm protectively around Dillion. She cares for him a lot, that much I can tell. I guess when you’re with a kid for a few years, trying to find the right home, a person can get attached.
“Uncle Jaxon is one of my best friends. You can trust him. I promise. I’ll be in there soon. We can all play games, have a movie night if you’re allowed, and eat junk food,” I reassure him, hoping the waver in my voice isn’t noticeable with how nervous I am.
Dillon slides off the couch, and our eyes don’t leave one another’s as he takes Jaxon’s hand. He keeps his head turned to stare at me until Jaxon opens the game room doors. And just like that, I lose the kid’s attention. He runs into the game room and immediately heads toward the skee ball machine. Jaxon gives me an affirmation wink, telling me Dillon is in good hands. I never doubted it.
The sounds of the door clicking shut and the impact of the silence hanging in the air has me falling back on my ass and releasing the biggest breath I have ever. I place my elbows on my knees and hang my head, thinking about the last time I was with Kendall. It was the time she accused me of rape. It was that sexual encounter that she got pregnant with Dillon. Her lie put a horrible stain on the moment when Dillon was created. I knew I didn’t hold any forgiveness in my heart for her before, but this just sealed the fucking deal. Who knows what this kid has been through? I’ll bet anything she was neglectful to him because all she cares about is herself.
I hate her.
“I know this is a lot to take in. I don’t expect you to make a decision right now. It’s one thing to be surprised with a son, but it’s another to decide if you want the burden of taking care of a child who is ill.”
“A burden? He wouldn’t be a burden.”
The expression on her face turns from sweet to guilty. Her lips part, and her hand raises to her mouth where her fingers cover part of her lips. “Oh my god, no. That’s not what I meant. I mean, his cancer. This will be an emotional rollercoaster ride. If the treatments don’t work, the doctors don’t give him very long.”
Her words hit harder than a three-ton wrecking ball. I sit there and process what she’s saying. Basically, there’s a good chance my heart is going to get fucking destroyed. “There’s a chance he’ll live, right?” God, please, just tell me there’s a fucking chance.
“There’s always a chance. Right now, it’s about beating the odds.”
“Well, he’s my kid. He’ll beat the odds; we always do.”
She looks around the living room, inspecting it I suppose. Maggie stands and smooths her palms down her skirt, and then she walks around, checking out the kitchen and peeks outside to the pool. “Wow, you have a great home here. You all have been quiet too. Can I ask what you do to afford all this?”
“Investments,” I say simply, not wanting to give her one good reason to take Dillon away. “We got lucky. We put together all the money we had and risked everything.”
She smirks. “Yeah, sounds real lucky.”
Maggie is a smart woman. She knows when she hears bullshit. I’m not going to confirm her suspicions.
“I’ll take care of him,” I state and get up to my feet. “I … don’t have anything for a kid here. I need to go shopping, and then there’s school...”
“He’s doing online school because the treatments make him miss a lot of days.”
“Right…” I shake my head. Look at me, already fucking up. I should have known the answer to that. “Sorry.”
“It’s good you’re already thinking about these kinds of things. We don’t expect people to magically know all the answers when we bring a kid to their doorstep. You have money, a good support system, and—”
“And a criminal record with a nasty charge on it. Tell me, how the hell did you get him to me?”
“I made connections. Two of your friends have had their records expunged. I had to make a damn good case for you, but I have to stay for a while and make sure everything is okay. I want to see him transition. When I feel like he’s ready, I’ll leave. I have a hotel in town.”
“Nonsense. I’m sure he would feel a lot better if you stayed here. He’s with strangers. Just because I’m his dad doesn’t mean he’s going to trust me.”
Her heels click along the hardwood floor, and she takes a seat at the kitchen island on one of the bar stools. “I don’t want to put anyone out.”
“We have plenty of room here,” I say.
We lapse into an awkward silence, and she pulls out an orange plastic folder from her leather briefcase. “This has all of his treatment details in it. You’re going to have to go to the cancer center in Portland, but I’ve already set everything up. His medical records have been forwarded there, and I got you a copy as well. Birth certificate, social security card, and all that.” The folder skids along the counter as she pushes the loaded information to me. “It’s all in here.” She pats the thick plastic.
I open the folder and see a stack of hospital records, but I’m not looking for patient history; I’m looking for his birth certificate. I want to know if he has my
