TRAVIS
The last few days have been rough. Although Paige's mother was hospitalized for three days, she's back home now resting.
I got to meet her and she is a lovely woman. She took a particular liking to me, unlike the rest of her family. She and I got on like a house on fire. She doesn't seem to care much about our age difference or any of the other rational reasons why Paige and I shouldn't be together. She's just happy that her daughter is happy.
It makes me feel good that I have an ally in the family. Maybe with time she'll convince the others.
I'm expecting a call from Paige so when my phone rings and I'm in the bathroom, I literally run to my bedside table to answer it. However, it's not Paige. The name that flashes across the screen causes my spine to stiffen. I answer.
"Felicity?"
Why is my ex-wife calling me?
"Yes, Trav, it's me," her raspy voice hits me for the first time in two years.
"What-Why-?"
"Can I see you? There's something I need to tell you."
I'm silent for a moment before I say, "Um, sure...I suppose."
"I can be at your place in 30 minutes."
"You're in New York?"
"Yes, I am."
"Alright, then I guess I'll see you soon."
The line goes dead. I stand there, staring at my phone as if it can explain what Felicity might want.
Whatever it is, it can't be good.
Felicityand I met about a decade ago. She reminded me a lot of my mother. She was a waitress who had big dreams. She wanted to be an actress and she was pretty good, but hadn't gotten her break yet. She was beautiful and feisty. I liked that just like my mother, she didn't blame the world for her circumstances and did what she needed to do to get ahead. So I allowed myself to be swept away in the infatuation. Things happened quickly between us. Within three months of knowing each other we were married.
Once we were husband and wife, things quickly changed. She hated how much I worked and my lifestyle in general. She hated the people who I called my friends. If I'm being honest with myself, with time, I became a little neglectful. That added to the strain in our marriage.
She on the other hand was abrasive. That fierce independence I loved from the beginning became a thorn in my side.
It was almost as if she resented me because of my wealth, but at the same time she refused to take my help. I have contacts in Hollywood and could have made one or two calls to get her into the rooms she wantedto be in, but she vehemently refused. She insisted on doing everything on her own. She even refused to take my last name because she didn't want people to know we were married and try to get to me through her.
We tried, we really did, but in the end, eight years was all we had in us. I was shocked when she asked for a divorce, but I wasn't surprised. The divorce proceedings didn't take long because I told my lawyer to give her whatever she wanted, but true to form she rejected everything I offered. She left only with what she came with.
I am pacing back-and-forthin my living room when my doorman calls to let me know I have a visitor. I tell him to let her up and proceed to have a mini panic attack.
My breaths are coming in shorter and shorter until a knock sounds from the door. I take in a sharp but deep lung-full of air and force my feet to start moving. When I pull the door open, my world stops spinning.
Standing before me is Felicity. Stunning, a brunette bombshell, exactly as I remember her. However, on her hip, she's carrying a toddler. A young boy. Judging from the pictures that my mother hordes, the boy looks exactly like I did at that age.
My eyes cut to Felicity and she asks, "Can we come in?"
I am rooted to the spot. Anger is coursing through my veins, and I stare daggers at my ex-wife.
Probably feeling my hostility, the boy ducks and hides behind his mother's brown hair.
So as to not scare him any further, I put my rage aside and let Felicity in.
This is where she lived for eight years. So she knows herway around. She walks into the living room and plops herself down on the couch and cradles the boy in her lap.
All I can do is stand at the entrance of the room and stare at them as she coos at him. This goes on for about 10 minutes, at which point I can hear the boy's soft snores.
"Fel, please tell me that I am seeing things and he isn't my son."
She takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you that, because he is your son."
"What the fuck is wrong-?" I start to yell, but Felicity cuts me off.
"Shhhh! He's sleeping!"
I close my eyes and take a couple of deep breaths. "How could you do this? Did you hate me that much?"
"I didn't hate you, I just didn't trust you to parent."
"Well, that wasn't your choice to make. If you were pregnant I had a right to know."
"That may be true, but back then I made the decision I did with the information I had."
"And what information was that?"
"The fact that I barely got to see you. You were always at work or out with friends. You were a terrible husband. I didn't think you were going to be a good father, and I didn't want to use my child as an experiment to see whether you would be."
"Our child! He is our child... I can't believe you did this."
"Travis, I know you're angry, but was I wrong? Or would you really have turned your life upside down to be a father?"
"Of course I would have! Do you have that low of an opinion of me?"
"Well, you'll have to forgive me, because I do not believe that. Anyway, when I found out I waspregnant, I knew I couldn't stay in our marriage. I asked for a divorce the very next day."
I run my hands through my hair, gripping it tightly and my scalp stings.
"If you thought I would be such a terrible father and you hid him from me all this time, then why are you here now? Why are you letting me know of his existence all of a sudden?"
"Because I need help."
"What?" I fold my arms.
"I underestimated just how much it takes to be a parent. The financial, time, and emotional investments are astronomical. I have managed it up until this point, but it has become too much. Especially because my career is starting to takeoff. I just landed the lead in this film. If it goes well there might be a lot of Oscar buzz. The problem is it doesn't pay much and it doesn't offer childcare on set. So I have nowhere to put TJ."
"TJ? As in..." I'm too scared to say it. Too scared to hope.
She sighs. "Yes, Travis Junior." She pauses for a moment. "He looks too much like you not to be named after you."
My heart blooms knowing that at least he's had my name this whole time.
I clear my throat. "So what exactly is it that you want from me now?"
"I would love it if you could be his father. To be there for him in all the ways that matter, but like I said, I'm not sure that you'll be capable of that or that you'll even want to. So I won't be holding my breath on that one. If the best you can do is money so that I can pay for daycare while I am on set and help financially moving forward with raising him, I would be glad for the assistance."
"Of course, I will take care of him financially. That's notsomething you'll ever have to worry about. Also, you are wrong. I do want to be a part of my son's life, and I'm going to be a great father."
She stands, carrying a still sleeping TJ in her arms. "I know you think that now, but only time will tell. Anyway, I'll get out of your hair now."
"Alright." I say quietly.
She nods, and then she maneuvers herself around my coffee table.
"You should be expecting a call from my lawyers," I add. "I want a custody agreement drawn up as soon as possible."
She scoffs. "I would expect nothing less."
I'm sad to see TJ go, especially because I didn't get any time with him, but that is easily remedied. I just have to make sure that moving forward I am as present as I can be in his life.
Then I have a thought that stops me in my tracks.
Paige.
How is she going to take this? How is this going to affect our lives? She is in a really fragile place right now. I fear that anything that rocks the boat will have her out the door in a heartbeat. Of course, I have to tell her, but I don't know how and I don't know when.
Fuck my life.