Houston, We Have a Problem
A/N: Okay, this chapter came out way long, and I probably should have broken it up into two. But I wanted to get it all out, so I hope the extra length isn't a problem. Thank you all for your reviews on this story - they mean a lot to me. Enjoy!
He felt like a convicted man on his way to face the firing squard. After spending three hours at the gym, and another few running around town, biding his time and preparing his speech, John finally decided it was time to tell Trish. While he still didn't feel like he was any closer to finding the right words to explain everything, he knew it had to be done tonight.
Trish was everything that was beautiful about a crazy, messed up world. She was trusting, hopeful, creative, and truly kind to everyone that came across her path. In John's opinion, her physical appearance did not even display a fraction of the beauty she possessed. Her zealousness for life in general, the excitement with which she approached every new task and challenge, was a breath of fresh air. Her heart was easily the most attractive thing about her.
And he was about to rip it into tiny shreds. For all of her passion and femininity, Trish was tough as nails, too. John knew that if she didn't castrate him immediately for what he had done, she would find some other brutal way to rip his heart out of his chest. And the worst part was that he knew he deserved it.
Stepping over the threshold of their house, he braced himself for the task at hand and took a deep breath. "TRISHA!" He would just say it quickly - get it out in the open and over with. That was the best way.
If she had walked down the stairs with tears in her eyes, it would have been slightly less heart-breaking than the exuberant smile on her flawless features as she bounded toward him. Her blonde hair was pulled back by a navy blue bandana, and she wore denim shorts with one of his old Chain Gang tee shirts. "Hey, baby!"
There was laughter in her eyes when she flung her arms around his neck, and John pulled back suspiciously, fighting like hell to regain his composure. "What are you up to?" Though he knew he had serious matters to attend to, he couldn't contain the grin that her infectious expression was illiciting. "What did you do?"
She feigned innocence with wide, puppy dog eyes. "What?"
He knew the moment wouldn't last forever, but the look on her face melted away all of his worries for the time being. "Trisha," he laughed as she took his hand and dragged him toward the stairs. "You're startin' to freak me out a little bit, Stratus."
Trish rolled her eyes as they reached the top of the stairs. "Relax," she assured him, stopping with a hand on her hip. "Close your eyes." When she was sure that he had, she led him past their bedroom and to a door at the end of the hall. Pushing it open with her shoulder, she pulled John inside. "Okay. Open up."
He did as he was told, a smile tweaking the corners of his lips. "I thought we agreed you weren't going to do this until after the wedding, at the very least," he scolded.
Above all things, Trish was determined. When she set her mind to something, she did it without looking back. There was no such thing as waiting with her, and when she had seen this room, she had decided that it would be perfect for the nursery. They didn't want to have kids for a few years still, but the crib in the middle of the floor said she didn't care if there was a baby on board or not.
There were large dropcloths everywhere, and cans of pastel paint littered the floor. Patterns and shapes were already taped off on the walls, just waiting to be colored in. A changing table and a rocking chair rested against the far wall as the mid-day sun illuminated the room with a flood of natural light.
"You're right," Trish nodded, gripping his hand tightly. "We did agree to that. But here," she put a hand on his shoulder and turned him toward the door again. "There's something I want you to see."
The paper taped to the wall was blurred and barely visible. As he stepped closer, John made out Trish's handwriting next to the photo. Baby Cena. Turning back, he gaped at her. "Are you?"
With a giggle that seemed to bubble up from somewhere deep inside her, Trish launched herself into her fiancee's arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. "We are!" She laughed again and kissed him quickly before returning her feet to the floor. "That's our baby's first picture, John!"
The weight of the world seemed to fall onto his shoulders in that moment, and John was pretty sure he would collapse at any second. How in the hell was he supposed to tell Trish about Keegan now? Could it maybe wait until tomorrow?
"Okay, so something's seriously wrong with this picture," Trish interrupted his thoughts. He raised his blue eyes to meet her gaze. "I just told you the happiest news ever and you look like your best friend died."
With a heavy sigh and deep breath, he nodded toward the rocking chair. "Have a seat," he instructed. "There's something I need to tell you."
The smell of grilled fish and vegetables hit Dave as he walked into Jennifer's house. He had been confined to a little sound booth, doing telephone interviews all over the country in promotion of Summer Slam, and now he was ready to unwind. "Honey, I'm home!"
Swallowing her nerves, Jennifer stepped out of the kitchen and, for the first time, wished she hadn't sent Keegan to her sister's house. She would have been a great buffer on a night like this. "Hey Baby," she smiled, moving toward Dave and catching a wiff of his cologne.
"What's all this?" He asked, kissing her and then taking in the atmosphere of the dining room. The candles, the champagne on ice, the smell of his favorite Hawaiian dinner on the grill. "What's wrong?"
Jennifer bit her lip and shook her head. "Nothing," she insisted, motioning for him to sit. "Let's eat."
But Dave shook his head and folded his arms. "Let's talk about what's going on first," he countered.
She felt all of her blood rushing to her face. The plan was to have a nice, romantic dinner, and then calmly explain everything about John. He couldn't just come in and change the plan. She wasn't ready for a change in plans. "What? I can't just make you a nice dinner? Try to have a romantic evening with my fiancee?"
He watched her critically for a moment. "Jennifer," he said, grabbing her arm as she started to pour the wine. "This is beautiful. And the idea of a candle lit evening alone with you is nothing short of heaven. But there is something on your mind, I can tell. And I want it out of the way before we move forward with this night, okay?"
Nodding, she followed him to the couch and watched as he sat. "Okay, so I need to tell you some things." She bit her lip and twisted her hands. "About Keegan's dad."
With a smile, Dave reached for her hand and pulled her onto the couch beside him. "Sweetheart, you don't have to tell me anything. It's none of my business."
"Except that it is," Jennifer interrupted. If he was perfect Dave, she knew she couldn't do this. If he treated her like a princess, and offered her forgiveness before she even confessed, she would never go through with it. "Dave, I haven't exactly been completely honest with you about Keegan's father."
Dave's heart dropped. He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. "Okay." He could hear her out - surely there was a good explanation for everything.
"I told you that I sent Keegan's dad an e-mail back when I found out I was pregnant, right?" Dave nodded. "Well, even though I told him that I didn't want anything from him, he hasn't exactly been completely absentee, either." She waited for him to interrupt, but he only stared at the floor, as though waiting for everything to make sense. "Ever since she was born, he always sends her birthday presents and Christmas presents, and other stuff that she needs or wants. In return, I send him pictures of her. Or at least, I did," she swallowed and tried to gather her thoughts.
Dave looked up, but said nothing. He wasn't sure where this conversaion was going, and if he wasn't careful, he was going to start jumping in the general direction of conclusions very quickly. Jennifer was clearly torn up, and that bothered him more than he was willing to admit.
"I thought that it would be for the best, ya know? That he could know about Keegan, but that he had nothing to do with her until she was old enough to decide that for herself. He never asked if he could meet her, and I never offered. But then, about a month after you and I started dating, I ran into him again."
His heart plummeted in into his shoes as Dave tried to surpress the shock that he was feeling. "And?" he whispered, grasping at everything he could think of to control the anger.
"This is coming out all wrong," Jennifer sniffled, growing more and more frustrated. "Bottom line, Dave, is that you're her daddy. You're the only father she's ever known. Yeah, she's had contact with her birth father over the last few months, but she doesn't know that he's her father. You," she reached out a hand and laid it on Dave's leg, "are her daddy."
"So you're telling me that this guy, whoever he is, has been around for the last six months, hanging out with Keegan, being a part of her life, and you didn't tell me that?" His voice was calm, but it was clear that he was having a difficult time controlling the anger that was slowly building inside him. "Why?"
This was it. Her chance to lay it all out on the table, to explain herself. "I didn't want you to worry," she whispered. It sounded lame, she was well aware, but it was honest. "I didn't want you to think that there was anything going on with us still, and I didn't want you to feel like you were any less Keegan's father." Gripping his hand, Jennifer met his eyes and blinked back tears. "I love you, Dave. Only you."
He nodded, her tears breaking his heart. "So he knew when Keegan was in the hospital?" He felt the anger rising, not at Jennifer, but at this asshole who wouldn't even bother to show his face when his daughter was sick in the hospital. When Jennifer nodded, Dave squeezed her hand harder. "What kind of man doesn't even show up to see his own daughter," he started to seethe.
Jennifer stood and tucked her hands into the pockets of her dress pants. "He was at the hospital," she admitted. If she was going to be honest, she had to be honest about everything. It was time for the lying to stop. The secret had to come out. "He was there every day."
Dave thought back to the people he had seen at the hospital. "What?" He had gone from excited to see Jennifer, to worried, to hurt, to angry in about ten minutes. And now he was just confused.
"He was there, but he knew I didn't want you to know who he was." She knew it was cryptic, but no matter how hard she tried, how much she knew the truth had to come out, she couldn't force the words over her lips.
As he began to recall the faces he had come into contact with, his brow furrowed. "It's not Orton, is it?"
"What?" Jennifer's eyes bulged at Dave's question. "Fuck no!"
He smiled slightly at her reaction. "I know it's crazy. But he was asking me all these questions about Keegan's father at the hospital and I just got this weird feeling that he maybe knew something I didn't."
And without warning she couldn't take it anymore. The words bubbled over her lips before she could reign them in. "It's John." She clapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The damage was done, evidenced by the shocked look on Dave's face.
Trish sat in the rocking chair, staring at the floor. John was Keegan's father? How was that even possible? How long had he known? Was he sure? There were a million questions in her head, but none of them would come out.
He leaned against the crib, wishing he could say something to make everything okay, but knowing that he couldn't. He couldn't say anything until he knew where her head was. He had said enough already.
After nearly fifteen minutes of staring at the floor, Trish looked up. She had stopped trying to fight the tears as she met the eyes of the man she loved more than anything in the world. "I don't even care that she's your daughter," she finally shrugged, hugging her knees to her chest as the chair swayed slightly. "I love Keegan, and I would have no matter what. But you lied to me. Not just for the last six months, but since the day we started dating."
"I know, Trish," he said, lowering his gaze to the floor like a scolded child. "I know it was stupid. I should have said something. It's fucked up to say, but I never thought I would ever have to deal with it." She huffed and John nodded. "I know it's fucked up. I know that. I just," he stopped and moved toward her, kneeling in front of the chair and putting a hand on her shin. "I can't defend it. It was immature, and it was just straight fucked up."
She nodded and leaned back, returning her feet to the floor and resting her hand on her flat stomach. In a few months, she would need him more than she had ever needed anybody. She just wasn't sure she wanted him. "I love you," she whispered. Before he could respond, she put her fingers to his lips and stood over him. "I just don't trust you right now."
Watching as she walked toward the door, John felt his heart plummet. There was nothing he could do now. He had made a lot of choices in his life based on only himself, and now he as going to have to deal with the consequences alone, too. He stood from his crouched position on the floor and sank to the rocking chair Trish had just been in.
Trish walked out of the room and then turned, framed by the doorway. "I want you to go. Until I can figure this out."
"Dave, please don't go," Jennifer pleaded as he started out of the room. If he wanted to scream and throw things, she would understand. But the silent treatment was more than she could bare.
He stopped at her words, but didn't turn. When he spoke, his voice was low. "You don't want me to stay."
Jumping up, Jennifer ran to him and put a hand on his arm. "Yes, I do. We can talk about this. I love you, Dave. I know I should have told you, but I'm telling you now." She knew she was blubbering like an idiot, but if it made him stay, if there was even a chance that he would hear her out, she wasn't above begging.
"Jennifer," he whispered, taking a step away. "Get out of my way." He was a calm guy most of the time, but when he felt the anger rising, he knew it wasn't far from exploding. If she didn't get away, she would get caught in the wreckage.
The tears were flowing faster than she could blink them back, and she didn't care to. She had messed up. What started as an attempt to protect the people she loved had ended up threatening to destroy every shred of her happiness. "Dave, please," she pleaded. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and Keegan. You are the one who has been there for us. You're the one that we love."
"You always lie to the faces of the people you love, Jennifer?" he asked sarcastically. He had tried to bottle the anger, but it was starting to bubble up. If she wanted him to talk, he would talk. And he was damn sure she wasn't going to like what he had to say.
Taking a step back, she lowered her head. He was right. And he had every right to be upset. She couldn't change what she had done. "I never meant for it to get this far out of control," she whispered.
He put his hands on her hips and fought off the growl that was building in his gut. "I don't even know what to say to that. Do you have any idea how completely fucking insane it is to ask me to tell you how I feel right now? I feel shocked. Numb. I don't know what the fuck I feel. Of all the things I could imagine you telling me, the fact that my best friend is the father of my wife's daughter is not even close to on the list!"
She watched his face turning red and backed up a few inches. While Jennifer didn't fear Dave hurting her physically, she knew he had the ability to tear her apart in far more painful ways. "I know it's bad," she admitted.
"It's so far beyond bad, Jennifer, I can't even," he stopped and put a hand on his forehead. "I've never been so fucking speechless in my entire life." With another look that nearly stopped her heart, he regained his composure. "I've gotta get out of here."
When he opened the front door, Jennifer called out one last time. "What do I tell Keegan?"
He shrugged his shoulders, his heart breaking at the mere mention of the child. "Ask her father."