“There was a poem you quoted to me once, by Edgar Allan Poe. Do you remember?” I'd memorized it after that night. Maybe it was to feel closer to him, to know something he knew, to share something he loved, but the words had spoken to me on a very primal level, haunted me even. It was my life, boiled down to a few rhyming lines.
Wilson began to quote the beginning lines, a question in his expression. As he did, I spoke the words with him, reciting them. His eyebrows rose at each word, and I could tell I had surprised him by my mastery.
“From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone.”
Wilson stopped, staring down at me in the dusky light that spilled around our concrete perch.
“It's the next part I can't ever get out of my head,” I ventured, holding his gaze. “Do you know what comes next?”
Wilson nodded, but he didn't quote the lines. He just waited for me to continue. So I spoke them, delivering each line the way I interpreted it.
“And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then – in my childhood, in the dawn
of a most stormy life – was drawn
from every depth of good and ill,
the mystery which binds me still.”
There was more, but it was this line that resonated, and I gathered my thoughts, wanting to be understood.
“The mystery of my life binds me still, Wilson. You told me once we can't help where we are scattered. We are born in whatever circumstances we are born into, and none of us has any control over it. But I can make sure this baby isn't scattered like I was. I have nothing to give but myself, and if something were to happen to me, my baby would have no one left. I can't guarantee this child a happy life, but I can make sure she doesn't love alone. I want to layer her in love. Mother and father and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. I want her to have family surrounding her so there is no mystery and no fear of being alone or abandoned . . . or scattered.”
Wilson nodded again, but his face was troubled and his grey eyes morose. He leaned in and kissed my forehead, and I smelled peppermints and aftershave and had to steel myself against the desire to breathe deeply, to pull his scent around me like a warm blanket. I sensed his unrest, as if he disagreed with everything I had said but didn't want to hurt my feelings. I wondered if it was the fact that he would be an uncle to my child, to Tiffa's child. He would be one of the layers of love I was so painstakingly constructing.
“So what's next, Blue? Where do we go from here?” I didn't know what he referred to exactly, so I took him literally.
“Tomorrow I have to tell Mason.”
“Well look who's here. Couldn't stay away, could ya?” Mason crooned, looking down at me from his open door. He was silhouetted in the light from his little apartment over the garage. I had called him, telling him I was outside and needed to talk to him. He snapped his phone shut and began walking down the stairs, his swagger pronounced. He obviously thought I wanted to do something more than talk. I held my purse in front of me, not wanting him to get an eyefull until I was ready. I heard a door slam. Wilson rounded the corner. So much for him staying in the car.
“Where the hell have you been, Blue?” Mason reached the bottom of the stairs at the same time Wilson reached my side. Mason's eyes strayed to Wilson and a dark look passed over his features. “Thought you'd trade me in for this uppity pansy?”
“I'm pregnant, Mason. It's yours,” I shot out, not wanting to make small talk. I needed this over and done as soon as possible. I moved my purse to the side so he could get a good look at my stomach.
Mason's eyes shot to my belly and back to my face. I wasn't obviously pregnant if I wore the right clothing. I'd made sure to wear a fitted T-shirt with slim white capris so there was no doubt.
“Oh, that's rich!” Mason howled, running his hands through his hair, and I immediately felt bad for him. I didn't blame him for being outraged. It was a major sucker punch, and I knew exactly how he felt; I'd felt the same way several months ago. He pointed at me, his finger only inches from my face.
“You show up here after almost six months, and lay this on me? No way. Uh uh! I'm not buying it.”
“Not buying what, Mason?” I challenged. I tempered my sympathy with the need to accomplish what I'd come for.
“How do I know the kid is even mine, Blue? I sure as hell wasn't your first, and I definitely wasn't your last. If I recall, Adam here was in the picture around that time, too.” Mason eyed Wilson sourly. Wilson just shook his head and crossed his arms. The Adam thing just wouldn't go away. It did no good to try to deny or explain anything.
I shrugged, not arguing. It was better if Mason doubted me. He would make less of a fuss. I handed him the summons Jack's brother had prepared.
“I didn't come here to make trouble, Mason. I didn't come here to fight. I want to give the baby up for adoption. This explains termination of rights. You need to show up at court on this date, sign on the dotted line, and you're done. You never have to see me or my big belly again.”
Mason glanced at the paperwork and for a minute I thought he would rip it in two.
“I gotta work. I can't make it.” He scowled, tossing the paper aside. It fluttered to the ground, and we all stared at it, waiting for someone to make a move. After a second, I stooped to pick it up.
“I understand,” I said, sweetness dripping from my voice. “You're definitely gonna want to hold onto that job. Because if this adoption doesn't work out, I'm going to file a paternity suit and sue for child support.” I kept my face blank and my eyes innocently wide.