“Mr Hardy, yes, I know that’s my fault for going about this the wrong way and shit, but I’ll make it up to you. Either way, I don’t want your money. Jenna and I are having a baby, we’re married and I’m not going anywhere.” I stand my ground, whatever that’s worth. He can take his money and buy off the police or a judge to keep Jenna safe from her ex, but I’m not going anywhere.
“Don’t you think you should know the names of your wife’s parents?”
I nod because he’s right, but to be honest Jenna and I didn’t talk about her parents. We talked about us and my reassurance that we did the right thing. “With all due respect, I’ve known your daughter for some time now and she’s never mentioned you.”
This revelation makes him take a step back this time. He cocks his head to one side and pulls out his cheque-book. I shake my head. I’m going to stand my ground that’s for sure. He walks over to the table and opens it. I step forward, looking over his shoulder.
“Mr Hardy,” I say with conviction. “Please be aware that I won’t accept your money. I don’t think your daughter or your grandchild will appreciate you trying to buy me off and out of their lives.”
I turn to Liam, not for help, but for understanding. He’s stone faced and looks caught off guard.
“As for your question, Liam, and as I stated earlier, I’m the father. I’m not claiming a child that isn’t mine, but one that is solely mine. Jenna and I got together the night of your wedding. She wasn’t going to tell me but you did, and when I saw her that night, I put two and two together and took her to Bora Bora with the intention of marrying her.”
Liam shakes his head and pinches the bridge of nose. I’m dying to know what’s going through his mind, but I’m too chicken to ask.
I turn away from both men, leaving them to make their own assumptions about me.
“Stop,” Liam says, halting me in my tracks. “You can’t pay him off.”
“Excuse me?” Mr Hardy replies. He steps forward and if I wasn’t watching him like a hawk I wouldn’t believe my eyes, but he literally puffs his chest out at Liam.
“I said you can’t pay him off.”
“And why’s that? Clearly you have an i
ssue with him marrying Jenna. This seems to be the easiest way to make it all go away.”
Liam moves closer to me and maybe we’re showing some kind of solitary front, although it’s more likely that he just wants to be to the one to kick my arse.
“I’ve known JD for a long time and the one thing I know for certain is that when he does something, he does so whole-heartedly. The other thing I know is that your daughter is pregnant and JD is the father and if you think I’m going to stand here and let you pay him off so that your grandchild grows up without his or her father, you’ve got another thing coming. If you want to write them a congratulatory check, I’m sure they’ll take it. If not, put your checkbook away and pat him on the back for taking care of your daughter. I wish someone would’ve told me my girl was pregnant because I missed ten years with my son. I’m not going to let JD miss one minute.”
Liam looks at me and I nod back at him. It’s a silent thank you because right now my throat has closed up and I can’t speak. I’ll never forget his words and there’s a great big chance I’ll never be able to tell him how grateful I am for what he said.
“And if he screws up?” Mr Hardy asks.
“I won’t. Look, Mr Hardy, I can’t explain it, but since I’ve known Jenna I always feel good when I’m around her. When I found out she was pregnant I knew the baby was mine. I won't sugar-coat anything and tell you we conceived the bub out of love, it was a one-night stand, but I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
Mr Hardy steps forward, placing one hand on my shoulder and taking my hand in his free one. “She’s my baby. Someday you’ll understand what that means. Someday you’ll do something stupid like offer money to make what you think is a problem, go away. You’ll also be man enough to apologize. I’m sorry and I hope to hell you’re the right man for Jenna because the last one was not and I’ll never forgive myself for giving her to him. He hurt my baby.”
“That is something, I can promise, I’ll never do.”
I kissed my wife long and hard before leaving her on the concourse at the airport. Leaving Jenna was hard but her mother, Angela, said she’d take care of her. After my run-in with her father, which I’m keeping to myself, Jenna and I took her mum to dinner and explained why we did what we did. Her mum cried, but promised me she’d be okay as long as Jenna was happy. I’m trying to convince myself that Jenna is happy, but she’s hard to read. I know she’s spent years hiding inside herself, but she doesn’t need to do that anymore. Not with me.
I shouldn’t be leaving, but I have unfinished business to take care of in Los Angeles. That business being Chelsea. She’s been sending me non-stop text messages since I got back in Beaumont and even though I’ve ignored her, I can’t continue to do so. She’s a loose cannon at times and the last thing I need is for Jenna to see her texts. I don’t even know why I feel the need to tell Chelsea. I shouldn’t, but I also shouldn’t have slept with her the last time I was home. That was my mistake and I know that she’s going to want more now. I’d been able to avoid her for three years, but all it took was one lonely night, a weak will and a text from her and I was back in her bed, full of regret.
I pull my hand luggage behind me and the closer I get to my apartment block, the more anxious I become. I don’t want to be here. I want to be back with Jenna, making her flat ours. I need to feel her around me, have her in my arms where I feel content and she’s safe. This trip has to be short, in and out, just enough time to tell Chelsea that I can’t see her anymore and to pack all of my crap. I never thought I’d move to Beaumont, but with my wife there, carrying our baby, it’s where I need to be. It’s where I want to be. I also need to call my mum and dad and tell them everything, especially my mum. I want her to meet Jenna, and maybe stay in town for a while and be there when the baby is born. I don’t want her to miss out on anything because of where I live.
Music wafts through the hall. 4225 West is being played and while my neighbours know who I am, I can’t say many of them are fans. By the time I’m two doors down from my own, I know the music is coming from inside. I try to think back to before I left — did I set a timer on my stereo? No, I didn’t. I stop in front of my door and don’t even bother to fish out my key. I know she’s in there. I can smell her perfume out here. I turn the knob hesitantly and open the door.
I don’t know what I expected to find, but it isn’t this. Chelsea is dancing around my lounge. There are boxes piled along the wall and her ugly artwork is hanging behind my sofa.
“What the fuck is going on?” I say loudly over the music. She stops and turns. Her hands immediately go to her hair, making sure it’s presentable. God forbid a single hair is out of place when someone is staring at her. Jenna was make-up free for two weeks except when we went out to dinner and there are not enough words in my vocabulary to describe how gorgeous she looked. But the one standing before me in barely-there shorts with bleach blonde hair and a fake tan really doesn’t do it for me anymore.
“You’re home.”
“Yeah, that usually happens every few weeks. What are you doing here?” I ask, as I close the door behind me.
Chelsea looks around the room nervously. Did she really think I wouldn’t notice all her crap in my flat? “I sort of moved in.”