Evie's Bombshell - By Amy Andrews Page 0,30
a stern look. ‘Isaac told me, Finn. He told me how you wished every night for a father to come and take you both away from it all. That you’d tell him stories about him picking you up and taking you to Luna Park for the day and a ferry on the harbour and then back to his house by the sea. You can’t go back and fix that, but you do get a chance to start over.’
Lydia stood, swooping his empty mug off the table. ‘You want your son to not have a father either? To miss out on such a vital ingredient in his childhood? To dream every night of you coming and taking him out to Luna Park and for a ride on the ferry and to live by the sea? A boy needs a father, Finn.’
‘He needs a mother more.’
She shook her head. ‘No, he needs a mother as well.’
Finn chewed on his lip. Why did Lydia always make so much sense? But the nagging, gnawing worry that spewed stomach acid and bile like a river of hot lava inside his gut just wouldn’t let up.
He looked at Lydia. A woman who had needed him to love her. A love he’d been incapable of giving. ‘What if I …?’ He could barely even bring himself to say the words. ‘What if I don’t love him?’
Lydia gave him a sad smile. ‘You already do, Finn. Why else are we having this conversation? Just be a father. The rest will follow.’
By the time Lydia had ordered him to take a couple of headache pills and have a shower then dragged him to Pete’s for brunch, Finn was feeling more human again. She’d nattered away about the weather and her job and the football scores and other inane topics, for which he was grateful, and by midday he was back at his apartment alone, with Lydia’s wise words turning over and over in his head.
He wasn’t utterly convinced by any of them but he had started to think that being part of his child’s life was a responsibility he shouldn’t shirk.
How many times as a boy had he vowed to do it different when he became a father? Back in the days before all hope for his future had been quashed. When he’d believed that his life could still be normal.
Lydia was right. A boy needed a father.
A stable, committed presence.
God knew, he and Isaac could have done with one instead of the bunch of losers that had drifted in and out of their mother’s life until one had stuck and they’d been pushed out of the nest.
He could do stable and committed.
The light was flashing on the answering-machine from the call earlier and he hit the button to listen to the message.
‘Finn … its Evie. I didn’t really want to tell this to your machine but … what the hell … it might just be easier all round. I just wanted you to know that I know it’s a lot for you to comprehend and I didn’t want to tell you to … get something out of you. I’m not after money or any kind of … support. It’s okay … you don’t have to have anything to do with him … the baby … I just think you deserved to know, that’s all. I’m happy to do it all. I’m fine with you never being a part of his life. I don’t need that from you. So … that’s all really. I just wanted you to know that you’re off the hook … if that’s what you want. Okay … bye.’
Beep …
Finn stared at the machine. He was off the hook? If that’s what he wanted?
It should have been what he wanted. He wasn’t capable of anything else—he’d just been telling Lydia the same thing. But a surge of anger welled up in his chest, washing over him with all the rage and power of a tsunami.
I’m fine with you never being a part of his life.
You don’t have to have anything to do with him.
Like his own father.
Evie was going to raise his son by herself. Without his money. His input. His support.
Without him.
It was what he should want. It made sense. She’d love him and nurture him and provide all the things he needed.
Physically and emotionally.
Comfort and security. A real childhood. Aunties, uncles, grandparents. Birthday parties, trips to the beach, photos with Santa.
It should make him happy but it didn’t. The anger dissipated quickly, replaced