Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
We hadn’t been planning to move so soon, but a colonial that had everything we’d been looking for came on the market—a large, fenced-in yard for Nicholas and Khloe, a big garage for my truck and Blair’s SUV in the winters, and an office for Blair, something I’d insisted on. She needed her own quiet space in the house where she could escape the madness to study or just be alone. When the property became available, we made an offer the owners couldn’t refuse. And since the house was already vacant, there was no reason we couldn’t move in.
Blair still had some time left on the lease for the house she’d been renting, so a lot of her stuff was still over there. We’d been just casually moving things at our own pace, though we were officially sleeping in the new house now.
Tonight, the three of us were hanging out in our new living room after dinner, with a fire blazing. That was another cool thing about this house. It had a fireplace.
Scrolling through my phone, I found an old photo of myself that my mother had sent recently. In it, I was exactly the age Nicholas was now.
I faced the phone toward my son. “Who’s this?”
He looked down at the photo and back up at me. “Nicholas.”
Blair and I turned to each other and smiled.
“You think so, huh?” I challenged.
He nodded.
“That’s not Nicholas,” I told him. “That’s me.”
He shook his head. “Nooooo.”
“Yes.” I pointed to myself. “It’s me.”
“That’s not Mr. T.” He shook his head again. “That’s Nicholas.”
“That’s not me now, but that’s me when I was your age.”
He studied the photo for several seconds, then looked up and practically stared into my soul.
I glanced over at Blair and whispered, “Now?”
Her mouth curved into a smile as she nodded.
I took a deep breath. “You look like me because I’m your daddy, Nicholas.” My heart pounded.
He blinked, his expression hard to read. For a long moment he alternated between staring at the photo and looking at me.
“Do you understand what I told you?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“It took a long time to find you. But I’m your daddy. And you’re my son. Do you know what that means?”
He shook his head again.
“It means that before you were born, two people created you. One was Mommy, and one was me.”
Concern crossed his face as he looked over at Blair. “Mommy is still my mommy?”
“Yes,” I assured him. “Mommy is still your mommy.”
Blair reached out to gently rub his head. “Of course I’m still your mommy.”
Nicholas seemed to think for a moment. “Mommy is my mommy…” He turned to me. “And you’re my daddy.”
“Yes. That’s why you look like me. And that’s why I loved you the moment I met you, even before you knew who I was.”
After a long moment of silence, he nodded. “Okay.”
“Yeah? That’s okay with you?” I smiled at him. “So, you don’t need to call me Mr. T anymore. You can call me Daddy, if you want.”
“Daddy…”
“Yes.”
“Daddy,” he repeated.
“Yes.” I bent to kiss him. “Daddy loves you, and I’ll always be here, okay?”
“Okay.” He grinned.
“Can I have a hug?”
He nodded and wrapped his arms around me. I breathed him in. I realized there was another layer to this conversation, explaining that the man he knew as Uncle Taylor was actually his brother. But that was too much for today. Also, I’d need Taylor’s guidance on how he wanted to handle that.
I pulled back to look at Nicholas, and he flashed the cutest smile. “Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Can I have Skittles?”
“Of course.”
“He’s manipulating you.” Blair laughed. “I told him he couldn’t have any more until tomorrow.”
“Already playing your father, huh?”
He giggled. And for the moment, all was right with the world.
***
The next day, we’d invited our parents over to the new house for Sunday brunch. I’d spent time with Blair’s parents before, and she’d also met mine a few times, but this was the first time our parents had met each other. We’d let them know we’d told Nicholas about me so they didn’t have to awkwardly call me Mr. T.
“Nicholas, every time I look at you, I see your daddy when he was a little boy,” my mother said as we were finishing our meal.
Nicholas offered a shy smile.
“Has Taylor come around at all?” Blair’s mom asked.
Blair shook her head. “Not yet.” She reached for my hand. “But we’re holding out hope.”
An awkward silence fell over the dining room, and I felt my nerves spike. As we began clearing the table, Blair’s dad headed out back. I realized it was probably my only chance to speak with him.
“Hey, Mr. Moynihan,” I called from behind him as I stepped outside. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Isn’t it a little strange to be calling a man basically your own age mister?” He raised a brow.