would he ever be able to get the boy’s face out of his head? Did he want to? Did he deserve to? The child looked healthy. Peter continued to stare at the miniature version of himself, so similar to how he’d looked almost twenty years ago.
When he first pulled into the driveway at his sister’s house, he’d remained in the car for a moment and rested his head on the steering wheel. He didn’t want to go in and face Claudia, much less the boy. He couldn’t even bring himself to call the boy his son. Because he wasn’t.
Peter may have donated the sperm, but he’d never been a father. How could he face the woman he’d professed to love and then left?
He’d grabbed the bags in the back seat and exited the car. He would face her the same way he’d faced business associates through the years. He wasn’t a coward. At least he wasn’t anymore.
And if she wouldn’t even look at him, he’d deal with it. He’d bluff his way through. But now that he was faced with both Claudia and the boy, he didn’t think bluffing was going to do him any good.
“You can put the stuff away.” May gave him back the bags.
Everyone else left the room en masse, no one speaking except for the boy’s chattering. He had never felt more alone in a crowd.
“Make sure you stash the cheese and whatever else you got into the refrigerator. Oh, and thanks for picking everything up,” May said as he continued to stand there, the bags dangling from his hands. “I have this one last tray to set out, and then we’re ready to eat.”
“Okay.”
Something about his one-word response must have hit her wrong, because she put the tray down and really looked at him. She grabbed his chin and turned his head from side to side. “I know that was hard, and I wish there had been more preparation. Are you going to be all right? Did anything happen while you were out?”
“I simply went to the grocery store, May. I’ll be fine.” He ducked behind the refrigerator door, not wanting her to be able to see his face. He’d stay in here forever if he could, to avoid looking her in the eyes right now. He’d been in front of a woman and baby in the grocery store line earlier. He’d made it through the line with his purchases and paid from his wallet, where there weren’t any pictures of the child he’d helped create. The woman behind him was gushing about her newborn and had nearly an accordion file of those plastic inserts to hold wallet-sized photos, all of them filled.
“Isn’t he the cutest thing?” she’d said. “I mean, the birth was hard and all, but to hold him in my arms, to snuggle him—it’s the best feeling in the whole wide world.”
He’d gathered his two plastic bags as she pulled an envelope out of her bag and removed more pictures, putting them on the little panel normally used for signing credit card receipts. The cashier cooed over each new image, and Peter walked out of the grocery store with their words ringing in his ears. The encounter had haunted him the whole way back to the house.
“You can talk to me, you know,” May said now, tugging on the back of his belt.
“It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t ‘nothing’ if you won’t even look at me. It’s also not ‘nothing’ if you’re not telling me to stop pulling on your fancy dress pants because it will ruin the perfect crease.”
She had him there, but now wasn’t the time to bring all this churning up. “Can we talk about it later?” It would at least appease her until he could figure out how to broach a subject he had never let her talk about to him.
“Look at me first.”
“I’m trying to put the groceries away. Don’t you have guests to see to?”
But apparently she wasn’t falling for it. He hadn’t heard her leaving the room, and he felt silly with his head all but buried in the cake sitting on the top shelf. Backing out, he turned slowly to face his sister, someone he’d shared all his secrets with until he’d started dating Claudia.
“Do you promise to talk later?” She folded her hands at her stomach and gave him an unblinking stare.
“Yes, I promise. I will speak with you about it later. After everyone has gone.” Especially Claudia. God, how was he going to face