I do want a boy.
Then, why do you think it’s a girl?
…I want it to be.
Darren stared at the clock near the phone. It was nearing three. That conversation was nearly four or five hours ago. But, he hadn’t moved since.
It was the truth: he wanted another boy in his family life. Dirk was going to move out soon, and there would be no more little boy to hold conversations with, or teach baseball, or eat waffles with in a pound of butter and two pounds of syrup.
But, his fear got the better of him: if he had a son, what would Darren do if his son turned out to be like him? A hypocrite—a cheater?
He was sure that Dirk would never be like him—because Darleen taught him well when she was still alive. And, Darren wasn’t cheating then.
But now…now, would he be the same father he was to his little boy?
He loved his girls, but in his opinion, they were better to teach than boys; like they said, girls were more mature than boys. And, he saw that in his daughters. And, his daughters had their mother to look up to—to consult to. If they had a boy, then Darren would have to be there for his son…and, Darren knew he changed from the time he was with Dirk—he wouldn’t tell his new little boy the same things he did to Dirk.
So, he prayed and prayed that he would only be given girls, no matter how much it would have to sadden him that he wouldn’t be able to share his manly experiences again. But, he was willing to make that sacrifice.
But, then, Lucas… “Lucas…” Was Lucas his son?
Danielle suddenly came in, but she hadn’t noticed—or perhaps chose to ignore—that Darren was sitting at the kitchen table.
With one glance at her protruding womb, doubts began to fill Darren’s mind. He wondered if it was going to be a boy…But, no doubt, it was going to be his boy, if it was a boy. He was certain that no other seed had touched his wife.
“I’m going out.”
His voice slightly startled her, and perhaps the baby as well, but she didn’t show it or tell him that she felt a small kick.
“Want anything?”
She ignored his question and went ahead and finished off the few dishes in the sink.
“Are you sure?” His persistency was unnatural even to him. For some reason, he felt that he needed to get her something—no, he wanted to get her something, anything.
She ignored him, again. It wasn’t that she didn’t need anything—it’s just that she didn’t want him to get it.
“I’m going…” he taunted.
“Just go, already.” Her voice was vitriolic. “I don’t need anything.” Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones, but she felt so much more irritated by him being there.
“…I’ll probably come home late. Don’t save me dinner; I’ll save myself the trouble.”
“Fine.”
One more time—“Are you sure…?”
She slowly nodded her head, too intent on getting the grease stain off of her porcelain.
He nodded, grabbed his jacket, but didn’t leave. He stared at her backside—how it had become so small. He remembered seeing her for the very first time and amazed at her broad shoulders that held her up; held her pride up. Now, it had shrunk—the shoulders and the pride.
Suddenly, he came closer to her and his hand pressed against her back as his breath tickled her neck. “Danielle…Danni…”
Chills went down her spine as she straightened it. She let go of the dish and let it sink into the water. “Don’t call me that.”
He ignored her. “Danni,” he repeated slowly. “Danni…” His other hand made its way around her, landing on her womb.
A shock was sent through his fingertips. The spark surged through the baby and into its mother. A small kick bumped against its father’s hand.
“…It’s kicking,” he whispered.
She remained silent.
“It’s active, isn’t it?”
“…Yes, he’s very active.”
Darren tried not to let her words affect him; but they did. So, she wanted it to be a ‘he’. She was against him from the very beginning. But…who put those thoughts into her head? Just a few months ago, she was still calling it an ‘it’. Now, it was a ‘he’. Someone must’ve put it into her head that the child was a boy. Because, she was the one to tell him in the first place that the Leroy family had a hard time having boys, even if it was the man’s choice.
He slowly let her go. For the longest moment, his breath still lingered near her ear. Even when he was gone, she still felt his moist and warm breath going down her spine.
Cassandra looked at the man standing near the crib of her new-born. The man looked so afraid to pick up the small child, even if the child was begging the man for a hold.
“Why don’t you pick him up?”
“No…no, it’s fine.”
Cassandra came up next to him. “…They say he looks just like me.”
Darren nodded. “They’re right.”
Cassandra picked up her child and cradled him. “It’s a shame that Miranda and David couldn’t be here; they say they miss you.”
“I…I miss them too.” Was that forced?
She smiled. “They always say that they see you pick up Denise and Deanna. They say they want to go over and say hi, but you never seem to have time.”
“…I’m a busy man, nowadays, since I’m trying to get her off of work and into maternity leave.”
“She’s still working?”
Darren nodded. “I can’t get her away from the office.”
“…She’s a working woman. How nice.”
“Not nice for the--.” He tried to stop himself, but half of it was already out. “…the baby…”
Cassandra masked the saddening, envious feeling that she knew her face was about to show. “How many months has it been?”
“…Six months…”
“Oh, so another three. How nice.” She looked at Lucas. “How nice…” She sauntered over to the fridge and got a bottle for her son. After feeding her, Darren gave her a curious look.
“You don’t breastfeed?”
“I have worn out breasts, Darren. I do have five kids.”
Darren’s stomach churned. He shouldn’t have asked her that.
“Why? Does she do it?”
Danielle had breast fed their girls. She always believed that breast milk was the best for babies. And, it was, in Darren’s opinion. But, he couldn’t tell her that. She always compared herself to Danielle—always. And, Darren knew what it did to Cassandra when she compared herself.
“…Sometimes.”
Cassandra nodded. “I wish I could—honestly—but, I can’t anymore. Nothing comes out.” Despite the situation, she laughed. “My nipples are as touch as jerky.”
Darren tried to laugh too.
Cassandra brushed against him as she put her child back into the crib. “…So, you only came to see Lucas?”
Darren couldn’t look at her in the face.
“Is that it?” She desperately tried to look into his kind blue eyes—to see something in them. “Darren?” A quiet murmur as she came closer to him. “Darren…” A small brush of the lips against his chin. She grabbed his hand and gently put it on her waist. “Oh, Darren…”
His hand travelled up her back as he leaned into her. It spread against her back and felt the contours that were so different from Danielle’s.
The frame that he loved—the frame that made him fall in love—wasn’t the one here. No, it was at home, cooking dinner for three children, getting ready for bed, not waiting for him.
His hand pressed harder on Cassandra’s back, as if trying to find something there that was impossible to look for.
The structure was all wrong—there was a sharp turn here, a vertebra sticking out from an accident as a child, a minor scar here from birth…Everything was all wrong. This was what he had loved; not what he loved—not the same back from nearly six months ago, when he wasn’t confused, but desperate to lose.
Before making it onto the bed adjoining the crib, Darren pulled away. Cassandra’s confusion was well written on her face. “Darren…?”
“I’m-I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. Now.”
It was strange that Cassandra didn’t stop him. Even stranger that she actually felt the same way he did when she saw him walking through the threshold.
He stopped his car in front of a local store. He didn’t even loosen his grip on the steering wheel as he felt himself ease down.
His memories were alive: ever feel of the two different women, every look that they had given, every difference that they shared between him.
For once, the thought of being the thing that they share in common made his heart collapse.
He had always been a romantic, and knew that he wouldn’t will himself to stop loving Cassandra. It was nearly impossible for that to happen.
He was still the romantic, and he also knew that it would be hard to even think about leaving Danielle. It would be the most painful thing for him to do.
But, was it the right thing to do? To stop loving Cassandra, or to leave Danielle?
He flexed his hands’ grip on the steering wheel. He had decided that he had come to hate this romantic him—he hated it very much. It was his ultimate demise.
If he could turn back time, he wished he never was in this situation. His obsession with Cassandra, his compassion for Danielle…they were both his demise. He wished he had never met these women before.
But, he couldn’t turn back time—all he knew he could do was to go forward.
He looked at the store in front of him. Yes, all he could do was go forward…and in order to go forward, he had to forget about the past. He had to ask for forgiveness—not from God—but from the one person who he knew would be included in his walk towards the future.
He got out of the car. “It’s the right thing to do,” he whispered to himself as he locked up.
The walk to the front door of the store felt forever. A significant forever.
When he stepped in, he was greeted by friendly smiles.
“Hello, Sir. Were you looking for something in particular?”
“…Yes. Actually, I was.” Darren thought about that person for a few minutes, to remember what she had liked the day he asked her to marry him. “I’m looking for a diamond ring.”
The sales person smiled. “Engagement?”
“…Yeah. I want to get re-engaged.”
Even as he parked in front of his house—around eleven—Darren didn’t find the will to go in. He kept staring at the wickedly beautiful diamond ring that he had just purchased for a thousand dollars.
It was much simpler than the first engagement ring he had given to her—but, he wasn’t expecting much. He just hoped that she would take it.
It might’ve been minutes before he summed up his courage to go inside. But, when he did, he was in for a surprise: Dirk was sitting in the dark, right in front of the TV.
“You’re late,” Dirk said, in a matter-of-factly state. “…So, I’m thinking that you didn’t only want to go to get something from the store?”
Darren nodded. He wouldn’t lie to his son; he just won’t tell the truth.
“…Did you go see Lucas?”
“…Why do you ask?”
“I had a feeling. Mom didn’t say anything when I asked where you were, so I suspected you were going to go see Lucas…Except…”
“Except what, Dirk?”
“Except, I don’t think seeing Lucas takes six hours…” Dirk’s underlined tone suggested that Darren was doing something other than visiting—and it also proved helpful to not look at his father as he said so.
“What are you saying?” Though Darren knew what his son meant, he didn’t like it that his son was being very secretive towards him. “Just say it, Dirk.”
“Did you sleep with her?” Not even a hint of emotion behind his words.
“No.” An equal amount of zero emotion behind Darren’s words.
“So, what were you doing for six hours?”
Darren took a seat next to Dirk. He placed the ring box next to his son. For a moment or so, Dirk didn’t believe his eyes. “What’s this?”
“What do you think it is?”
“…A ring.”
“Open it.”
Dirk brought the box and slowly opened it. The sparkling diamond inside gleamed in the darkness. “…Why? Just, why?”
“…I got down to thinking…I got a lot of thinking done…and I thought that I can’t turn back time to undo what I’ve done. Like they say, what’s done is done; but, what isn’t done has to be done. So, I want to do what hasn’t been done yet: I want to make it up to her.”
The stairs creaked and Darren looked up. Danielle was coming down—and she had heard. No smile appeared on her face, no happiness—but extreme shock.
Darren took the ring box and slipped it into his jacket pocket, assured that she had not seen, but had heard.
Danielle took the last steps until she was on the floor. Her dark eyes ironically gleamed in the darkness. “You-you want to make it up to me…”
“I do. From now on, I can only move forward, and I can only have one person that I love…that I need…”
Her breath caught in her throat and suffocated her. “Why?” she croaked. “Why not her?”
Darren’s lips chapped. He licked them. “Why? Because…because you’re here. She’s not here…she’s not you…and, she’ll never be you.”
“Darren, you expect me to forgive you after everything’s that gone down?”
“But I’ve got to at least apologize.”
“You’ve apologized to me so many times, but nothing’s worked. Do you really think that I’d forgive you this time, like nothing’s happened?” She was on the brim of tears.
“Honestly, yes.”
“No! You hurt me—and I can’t forget that.”
“But, we’ve got to move on…And…and I found out that I fear you leaving me more than I fear losing my love for Cassandra.”
“You love me more than her?” A small scoff. “You’ve loved her more than me—longer than me—and now, you’re just going to throw that all away because you say you love me? Even when there’s nothing there anymore?”
“Yes.”
Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor. Her tears were coming out. “Why do you do this? Why do you make me cry so much?”
He ignored her question, but followed her onto the floor. He slowly brought out the ring box. “I want to leave the past as it is. I’ll say it a million times more, but I’m sorry. I don’t want this to end…I don’t want us to end.” He slowly opened the box. “So, marry me, again, so we can start all over.”
After tucking in her children, Cassandra laid herself onto her bed.
It didn’t seem like a few hours ago that those kind blue eyes were right her; kissing her, and almost loving her. It only felt like a few moments ago.
She patted the bed sheets, remembering that these were from Darren, so long ago.
She could still smell the faint smell of his cologne, lingering in the sheets. She had always thought the smell enchanting. But, with each whiff, she kept thinking about him and what he might be doing now…
She looked at where the phone was supposed to be. Why did she throw away her only means of communication? Her only way to get him back here?
The emptiness she found inside her was eating her soul. Inside, she was growing bitter—bitter at Don for leaving her, bitter at Darren for leaving her, bitter at her father for leaving her, bitter at love for leaving her…
Once more, she turned over and stared up at the ceiling. It wouldn’t be long until the kids woke up and the daily routine started again.
Yet, it would be a long time before she decided to call those blue eyes again.
It was nearing midnight when she heard the doorbell ring. She got up, but sleepily made way to the urgency of the doorbell.
When she opened it, she was surprised; a face that she rarely saw nowadays. “Lawrence.”
“Hi.” Lawrence was holding a few bags.
“Wh-what’s going on? It’s midnight.”
“I-I know…Alex drove me…”
“Why…why are you here?”
Lawrence seemed to struggle with his words. “…Cassandra…” He had never called her ‘Mom’ once, so it was fine to the both of them. “I’m sorry to bother you…And…and, these are from Grandpa. He’s still very stubborn, and he’s been saving these things inside the pantry since God knows when. But, Alex found them last night and said that they were probably intended for Lucas…And, tonight was the only night we could sneak out.”
“Oh…”
Lawrence handed over the plastic bags. “…H-how are things…with Lucas?”
Cassandra stared at her oldest. Couldn’t he tell what was going on? But, then, she remembered her father, and how strict he was going to be with the gossip that was happening. It was most likely so that Mortimer had banded any talk about Cassandra in the house—and, why wouldn’t he? She had disgraced the name until there was nothing left for the Goths. “…He’s fine…”
“…Cassandra, who’s the father?”
So, Lawrence had been listening to the gossip. “…My, you’re curious, aren’t you?” She never knew that about her son.
“…I’m not. I just don’t like the talk that’s going around this place. And, I want to clear it up for the Goth family.” For you.
Cassandra chuckled. “So typical of your grandfather.”
“…So, whose is it?”
“…I don’t know.”
“Whose do you think?”
“…I don’t know.”
“…What do you know, Cassandra?”
Cassandra smiled—a disheartening smile. “…I know I want it to be Darren Dreamer’s.”
