Not to mention all those letters my mother kept away from the Falcos because of this. She didn’t want me to be another girl Dustin Falco had left knocked up. In a twisted way I understood her logic. But I had made that decision and, unlike Kimmy, I had been Dustin’s girlfriend. Not his secret fuck buddy. It made more sense that I was the one pregnant.
She’d had an abortion. She had aborted Dustin’s baby. Images of Micah as a newborn when they’d placed him in my arms flashed before me, and my heart broke. He’d been so beautiful and perfect. He’d looked just like Dustin. Would Kimmy’s baby have looked like Dustin too?
Did she ever wonder? Did she care? Or was Dustin Falco and every memory of him a part of her past she rarely thought about? I would remember Dustin every day of my life. My son was my reminder. And I was thankful for it. Even if my memories were tainted. Even if I hadn’t been enough for Dustin and he had never really loved me. I had loved him. Maybe not real love, but a pure, young love. And I loved our son. Enough for both of us.
There was a knock on the front door, and I knew Dewayne was here with Micah. I had to pull it together and spend time with Micah until his bedtime. Standing up, I walked to the front door and opened it. Without saying anything, I reached for my son, pulled him into my arms, and hugged him tightly. The feel of his little heart beating was like a balm. He was here. He was my world. I had him. Thanks to Dustin Falco, I had this precious boy.
“I missed you too, Momma,” Micah said as he patted my back with his little hands.
I eased my hold on him and pressed a kiss to his head before standing back up. “Go on inside and clean your room. You left it a mess this morning. We’ll play Monopoly when you’re done,” I told him.
He beamed up at me, and I realized it wasn’t his father’s smile. It was his smile. His own unique smile. One that was a mixture of Dustin and me. He was part of me. I was a good person too. I had good qualities. Things I hoped Micah got from me.
“Sienna,” Dewayne said, and I looked up at him, wishing I didn’t have to do this. I wasn’t ready to face him yet.
“You lied to me. You protected your brother’s memory. I understand that, but I also understand that you chose protecting his memory over me. I need more than that. I need to know I can trust the man I’m with. That he’ll never betray me. Maybe that man doesn’t exist, and if he doesn’t, that’s fine. I’m good alone. But I can’t do this with you.”
Dewayne’s face went pale, and the desire to wrap my arms around him and comfort him was strong. But I wouldn’t. Today I would protect me. I would comfort me. It was time.
“I was protecting you. If you’d let me explain. You’ll see it was you all along.”
No. I wasn’t listening to any more. I knew the truth now.
“Leave, Dewayne. You’re welcome to visit Micah. He needs you. But for a while it’s best you do that at your parents’.”
Then I closed the door and locked it.
Micah ran back into the living room and frowned. “Where’s Uncle Dewayne? Is he not playing Monopoly too?”
No, he wasn’t playing Monopoly. That dream was over.
“Just me and you, Ace. But we’re a good team, right?”
Micah frowned, then nodded. “Yeah, Momma. We are. But I like it when Uncle Dewayne is on our team too.”
* * *
Three hours of Monopoly up in the center of my bed, a big bowl of mac ’n’ cheese, and convincing Micah he needed a shower, and I was exhausted. It was bedtime. I had never needed a bedtime more than I did tonight.
Micah knew something was wrong. He kept kissing me and hugging me. I needed all those hugs and kisses, but it made me try harder to keep smiling.
“Momma, why is Uncle Dewayne sitting on a sleeping bag on our front porch? Can I go out there with him? I think he has cookies,” Micah called from the living room.
What? I dropped the towel I was using to dry my hair and walked into the living room. Micah had his face pressed to the window, waving at Dewayne. Who was sitting on a camo-green sleeping bag and eating cookies with a thermos beside him. Had he lost his mind?
“Micah, go to bed. I’ll be in there in a minute to tuck you in. I’m going to see if Uncle Dewayne got confused and thinks y’all are camping out tonight,” I said.
“Aw, man, that would be fun. I want to sleep on the porch.”
I bet he did. “Bed, Micah. Now.”
He hung his head and walked back to his room, looking back longingly at the window. Dewayne could not do this to him. He had to leave. This was messing with Micah’s emotions, and I wouldn’t have it.