I reached into the trunk for the next bin when someone spoke behind me.
“Excuse me.”
Turning, there was a man standing across the street, handsome with a boxy face and a bomber jacket.
“Can I help you?” I hefted the bin onto the wagon.
He crossed the road and stretched out a hand, “My name is Sam. I just moved here.”
I raised an eyebrow, but shook his hand, “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
He stood awkwardly for a few minutes while I shuffled the bins on the cart.
“Um…do you have a son named Tucker?”
I glanced up, “What about him?”
The man shifted his feet and stuck his hands in his pockets. He licked his lips against the chill, took a couple of deep breaths.
He finally looked at me, “I’m his father. His real father.”
The front door slammed open and Jamie bounced through in his snow-suit, dragging Tucker by a scarf.
“Papa!” Jamie crowed at me, “Snowman!”
“Tucker!” I yelled at them sharply. Both heads shot up at me.
I stared them down, “Go play in the backyard instead, okay? Just for a few minutes.”
Jamie whined, his cheeks puffing up. Tucker stared at us.
I gritted my teeth, “Now.”
Jamie huffed and waddled back inside and Tucker shut the door without asking anything. Bless him.
I whirled on Sam, “What the hell did you just say?”
He swallowed, cheeks growing red, “I said I’m Tucker’s father.”
“Is that so?”
He nodded.
I glared at him, “Why should I believe you?”
He dug inside one of his pants pockets and I took a step back. But what he pulled out were a couple of crumpled up photographs. He handed them out to me and the air in my lungs crystallized.
There was Sam, smiling with one arm around a woman who was absolutely, unmistakably, Kimberly. He was wearing a Marine Corps uniform. She was holding a neon pink sign with “Welcome Home” drawn in glitter paint. The second was a faded wedding photo of the two of them: a blushing bride and a beaming groom. Dear God...
“That first picture was taken after I came back from Kuwait, over a decade ago,” he said, “I was there for two years. I’d never seen her so happy.”
I swallowed and looked up. He was staring forlornly at the picture and I handed it back to him. I didn’t say a word. What was there to say?
He chuckled a bit, “You look confused. So am I. I didn’t know she’d had a baby until recently.”
“She didn’t tell you at all?” I asked, leaning against the trunk of the car.
He shook his head, “Um…she died last year, from breast cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
He gave me a sad smile, “Even as she lay dying…she never told me. I found out about Tucker from her mother,” he stuffed the photo back in his pocket and leaned against the trunk next to me. I let him.
“How could you not have known?”
He glared at me, “I was gone for two years. She was pregnant before I left,” he scuffed his shoe on the concrete, “And now, years and years later, I find out that she didn’t want the baby. That she felt like she wasn’t ready for motherhood or something, gave the baby up for adoption to some queer couple across the country, without ever telling me…”
I let the sting go.
He swung back with a horrific look, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that in a…in a bad way.”
“It’s fine.”
We stood in silence and the wind whistled down from the rooftops. He sighed a puff of white cloud.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
“Me too.”
I twitched, “It was a legal adoption.”
“I know,” he muttered.
“She gave him up willingly.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
He rubbed his face, “I just wanted to see him.”
Something dawned on me, “Have you been watching the house?”
He shook his head, “Only today. I wasn’t sure how to approach you.”
I scoffed, “Hell of a way to go about it. Can’t just walk up to someone and declare you’re the father of their kid.”
“But he is my child.”
“So what are you going to do about it?” I stood from the car and walked a few feet in front of him, “Sam…you can’t have him. Nate and I, we’ve raised him since the day he was born. He’s our son too.”
“That’s not what I wanted to ask,” he crouched down, “I just…I just want to talk to him.”
“What do you think he’ll say?”
“I won’t know until I try.”
I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck, “Where are you living at? A couple streets away?”
“I lied. I’m in the city. I’m a cop, and I just transferred in a few weeks ago.”
I walked over and helped him up then stared him down right in the eyes, “Go home, Sam. Don’t come back here. I’m going to talk to Nate about this. Then we’ll call you.”
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