Hey everyone! Thanks to all those who read and reviewed last chapter. I'm trying to do something new this time around. If a review requires an answer, I've been responding. Or if it's just particularly awesome, I'm responding. So if you have any burning questions, you can ask in the reviews :)
So, this chapter was over twenty pages. I had two readers tell me that it wouldn't be horrible of me to cut it into two chapters. That means there's good news and bad news. Bad news first, you say? Okay. The Brooke/Lucas conversation isn't in this chapter. And it's a little bit shorter than last chapter. The good news is that it's written. (I wrote it before I wrote this chapter.) So I'll tweek it a little bit. Add some things (it's way too intense to be its own chapter). And you'll get another chapter from me. Within the week.
Without any further adieu, I give you the next chapter. (I suck at picking songs for this fic. Hopefully, they start matching betting soon! But this Superchick song is nothing short of amazing.) I hope you all enjoy! :)
How long will this take?
How much can I go through?
"Daddy! Daddy!"
They're pretty much the first words he hears every morning since Sawyer started talking. He never thought the day would come when he didn't need an alarm clock. But she's his own personal wakeup call—usually hours before he'd have set the alarm anyway. He yawns, rolls out of bed, and looks around. Peyton didn't come to bed last night. He never felt her get in.
If she complains about her back today from sleeping on the couch, he's going to tell her to shut up. It was her choice to sleep there when she had a nice cozy bed to be in. She chooses these things and then acts like it's his fault. All. The. Time.
He's sick of everything being his fault.
He carries enough guilt, thank you very much.
He sighs deeply as he walks through the door into the hallway. She's not on the couch. And he doesn't have time to look for her right now. Sawyer is bordering on hysterical. She doesn't know where she is and she's in a crib, something she hasn't slept in for over six months. He doesn't want her to attempt to crawl out of it. He's going to have to make time to go purchase a toddler bed today. And maybe he can get Nate to help him put it together.
He walks through the door to the nursery and sees his little girl's face, tears streaming down it. "Daddy!" she cries. "Help, daddy, up."
His three year old baby is still whimpering as he picks her up and soothes her, rubbing small circles on her back and whispering, "Shh, princess. Daddy's here. I'm here, now."
In two minutes, her cries have turned to happy girl sighs so he bounces her up and down to get her to look at him. When she does, he coos to her, "Are you hungry, beautiful?"
She nods her head, her big blue eyes still swimming with tears. "Krispies."
It's her way of saying she wants cereal. Well, he hopes Haley has some because that's where he's taking her. They don't even have any milk here. He grabs the overnight bag he made up last night so he can dress her after she eats, stops at the bathroom to make her go potty, and is halfway through the door when he sees the note.
It's on the refrigerator. Written in Peyton's scrawl.
Went to Bridgeport. Awesome band playing tonight. Maybe Red Bedroom can sign them. Will see you in a few days.
-P
If he had a moment to think, he might realize that he has no reaction. Which is probably worse than having a bad one. But he doesn't have time to think because Sawyer has taken to chanting for her cereal and he still has to find Nathan and Haley's new house. It's in a new development. One that wasn't even there when he lived in Tree Hill last. Thankfully, it's not too far from where Nathan and Brooke grew up so he knows the neighborhood. He finds the house with little issues.
It's huge. It's so unlike Haley—who grew up down the street from him with six brothers and sisters in a three bedroom house—to need something this big that he guesses they bought it for the privacy fence. And the gate at the entrance. Thank goodness it's Mr. Connor guarding the gate or he probably wouldn't have made it into the community. Mr. Connor used to be a Tree Hill police officer. He had come into the café all of the time so he knows that Lucas is Nathan's brother and lets him through after giving him a good lecture about coming home more often and telling him to say hi to his mom for him.
When he walks up to the door, he gets a sudden nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if Haley was just being nice because of the situation last night? What if she didn't really mean she wanted him to come over? What if he picked a fight with Peyton for nothing last night?
What if they don't even want him here?
He stands there so long that the door swings open in front of him. And he never even knocked.
Haley's standing there with an amused look on her face, her arms crossed over her chest. "Well, are you just gonna stand there and stare all morning or are you going to get her in here so she can have her Krispies?"
"I was concerned that I didn't call first," he tells her. Then he decides to just be really honest, "I was afraid you wouldn't want me here."
"Lucas," she sighs, almost resigned. "Of course I want you here. It's all I've wanted for so long now. I needed you here and you weren't. But you're here now, and I still need you, so I can't argue about you not being here then."
He doesn't know what to say to that. He feels like she let him off easily, maybe too easily, and the guilt is still there. It's still lingering in the air between them.
"Besides," she continues, "Brooke needs you now. I didn't think you'd be able to stay away while she suffered. You know I have Nathan. I know you know I have Nathan. But Brooke? You don't trust Julian enough to believe he'll be what she needs. So you came back. It took you long enough. But I knew you'd come. Because she needs someone and she's never needed anyone like this—so openly—before. You want to be that someone. You always have."
Her tone gets less serious as she reaches out to Sawyer, "Come to Aunt Haley, gorgeous. Let's see if we can find you some Krispies."
She plucks his little girl out of his arms and starts to walk away, toward the back of the house, while he just stands there in the doorway, stunned at her insight. She's right. It's Haley—she usually is.
He didn't fight Peyton when she argued against coming home for Mrs. James's funeral because she made him feel guilty about bringing up her memories of her mothers' deaths. But that was only a small part of it. Sometime, somewhere, long ago, he gave his best friend to his brother. He put her into his hands and he knew she'd be safe. He trusted Nathan with Haley more than he trusted almost anything else in this world. Actually, if you were to ask him, any time after junior year, he'd tell you that he worried more for his brother if they were to break up than he worried for Haley. Because Nathan loves Haley in a way that he's only seen one other time. The way that Keith loved his mom. Almost to a fault. As if nothing else matters. Thank goodness Haley loves his brother back. He was never quite sure about his mom's feelings.
It sucks to love someone like that and not have it returned. He knows. He's been there.
He didn't have to feel too bad about not being able to come because he knew she'd be okay. Nathan would stop at nothing to make sure of it. He knew that as well as he knew how to breathe.
And she knows him that same way. Of course, he needed to see for himself that Brooke was alright. With everything going on. It's not the same as what he did for Peyton senior year. Brooke Davis neverneeds saving. And, he's sure, this is no different. But that doesn't change the fact that he needs to be here. Just in case. She's been through too much this year and he's never seen her as vulnerable as she was last night. Never.
And he's pretty sure he's seen her at her most vulnerable.
He won't even think about going anywhere until she's okay. And that Haley knows and understands that just proves that the kind of friendship that they have can transcend just about anything.
She yells from behind a wall, somewhere at the back of the house, "Lucas, come in and shut the door. You're letting the flies in."
He does as she asks, then walks to the back of the house, taking in everything. This is how he always pictured, pre-junior year, Nathan living. This is not, in any way, how he pictured Haley's life. Even if Haley's money could pay the bills just as easily.
He smiles when he finds her in the kitchen, doting on her niece. Sawyer looks less scared then when she was first being carried away but still happy to see him walk through the archway. "So Hales, where are my nephew and brother? Don't tell me they're still sleeping."
"Actually," she says, never taking her eyes off of Sawyer, who's now digging into a bowl of Rice Krispies, "Nathan is running an errand for Brooke and," she checks her watch, "he should be at her house sometime soon. Maybe you could catch him, get him to take the little boy back here to play with Jamie, and you could talk to Brooke? I could watch Sawyer."
"Ethan." He tells her, smiling at the name.
She looks at him and scrunches her face up like she's trying to figure out what he's talking about. "Huh?"
"The little boy." He tries again, "You called him that. Brooke called him by name last night. It's Ethan. Where's Jamie at?"
"He's at Quinn's. He spent the night because we were at Brooke's so late but they should be here with him any minute. I think it's a good idea. You and Brooke can talk without any interruptions—speaking of, where is my sister-in-law?"
He laughs at her rambling. She always did go off subject when she was talking about an idea that she thought was best, even if the other person didn't agree. "Peytonis out of town. She wanted to go see some band. Take advantage of our being here. I don't think she's quite accepted that we're going to be here for a while."
Haley looks at him again but this time it's like she's trying to find the right words. She shakes her head, as if she decided against whatever she was thinking, and repeats herself, "Go over to Brooke's, tell Nathan to bring Ethan back here, talk to her. It's why you're even here. I've got Sawyer."
"She might cry," he warns her.
She smiles at that. "She'll be fine. Go."
He nods. "Okay. Thanks, Hales."
With a quick hug and kiss for each of the girls in the kitchen, he turns and walks toward the front door again.
Hopefully, Brooke will talk to him.
My heart, my soul aches.
I don't know what to do.
-x-b-x-l-x-
I bend, but don't break.
And somehow, I'll get through.
Cause I have you.
"Brooke."
She hears the voice but doesn't really know it. Even though she knows who it belongs to. She's never really heard it before. Except for about four words all day yesterday. And they don't count.
Those words weren't her little boy calling her by name. Her first name. Not mama. Not mom. Not even mother. Just Brooke.
She deserves it. She knows that. But it still hurts like hell.
She opens her eyes, realizing that she must have cried herself to sleep, in her clothes, while smelling the baby smell that Sawyer left behind on her bed. "Hey, buddy," she tries for a friendly smile. "What's up?"
He gets this cute little scowl on his face that is so much like his dad, it almost hurts and from the doorway that he's standing in, says, "I'm kind of hungry. And I would have waited in the room but there's someone knocking on the door. I don't know if I'm allowed to answer it."
"Ethan," she says, full of concern, for him and not at all for who's at the door. Anyone important would just use their key and walk right in. "How long have you been awake? You could have come and got me. Of course you're hungry. You didn't eat at all yesterday."
She stands up, walks toward him, and he backs away. That breaks her heart a little more. He doesn't even want to be near her. "I have cereal. All kinds. I also make a mean pancake. Karen taught me how. When I was—" she stops, realizing that he doesn't want to hear this and he doesn't even know who Karen is. "Anyway, Nathan, a friend of mine, is going to come over with some clothes for you. To hold us over until we can get yours. What'll it be for breakfast?"
He does the little scowl again but follows her to the kitchen. She pulls out a chair and gestures for him to sit. The knocking, thankfully, has stopped. "So, cereal or pancakes?"
He climbs into the chair and looks at her, as if he's measuring her ability to do this—be his mom or make breakfast? She's not sure. And he doesn't look it, either. "If you would have just brought me home, your friend wouldn't need to bring me clothes," he tells her, instead of answering.
She doesn't know what to say to that so she just raises an eyebrow. To that, he says, "Pancakes. Who's Karen?"
Just like he read her mind.
She's about to answer him, vaguely, when she hears Lucas's voice instead. "She's my mom. And her pancakes are the best. But Brooke does an okay impression of making them the same way she does.
She turns around, surprised. Scared. "Lucas, I thought you were going to call."
Nathan is standing next to him with bags of clothes. Lucas has a few in his hands, too. Ethan, thankfully, hasn't turned to look at them yet. He looks just as frozen as she feels. She prays that neither Lucas nor Nathan reacts, if they notice, in front of him.
"Well, I was," he tells her. "But then Haley convinced me to come over here and invite Ethan over to play with Jamie. She thought maybe you could use some time..."
He trails off and she thinks, more like Haley thought maybe Brooke and Lucas needed to talk. Haley's eyes last night were a clear indicator that she at least suspected who Ethan was. Maybe not that he was Lucas's but the second that Brooke avoided the "who is he to you" question, Haley got suspicious.
"And it's a good thing she did, because Nate here didn't have his key to your house. Apparently, you're not answering the door this morning?" He smiles at her, completely oblivious to her panic and wayward thoughts. She almost gives into an irrational need to run into his arms for one more hug. Just one more. Before he sees Ethan's face. His son's eyes. "Good thing I still have mine, huh?"
"Ethan," Nathan says, in that I'm-your-best-friend-in-the-world voice that he uses on Jamie before trying to convince him to do the opposite of whatever it is he wants to do, "buddy, Brooke's pancakes might be almost as good as Karen's but Haley's, that's my wife, french toast is out of this world. You could come over here and pick out some clothes. And then we could go to my house and shoot some hoops. Jamie's about your age."
When Ethan still doesn't turn to him, Nathan keeps talking but also starts to walk to the counter. "If you don't like basketball, we could play Wii or Xbox. Whatever you want. It'll be your choice."
Nathan is beside him at the counter now and finally, Ethan looks up at him. Brooke's eyes leave Lucas's, who is still standing in the living room- not wanting to overwhelm the little boy, to plead with Nathan, silently. To his credit, Nathan doesn't skip a beat. But he knows. His eyes go a little wide and he gives her a look that she can't quite decipher. Instead of reacting, though, he smiles at the little boy who is now looking at him in awe, "So, what do you think, little buddy? Can we give your" finally, he stumbles. He wants to say mom. It's all over his face. Instead, he catches himself, "I mean, Brooke. Can we give Brooke a few hours to talk to Lucas?"
He throws her a look that says, you're gonna need more than a few hours to explain this one.
Ethan, bless his heart, is completely still but realizes that he has to say something. Nathan's looking at him expectantly. His eyes have gotten almost as round as Nathan's and Brooke belatedly grasps that he probably recognizes the NBA player in his uncle. As she realizes it, Ethan finds his voice. "But you're Nathan Scott," he tells his father's brother—not that he knows that yet. "You'd play basketball. With me?"
Nathan's whole face changes when he sees the fan in his nephew. There's not an ounce of anger—at Brooke—left on it. "Of course, buddy. Any friend of Brooke's," his eyes meet hers and she knows that he still wants his own answers, "is a friend of mine."
To his credit, her son looks to her. "Would it be okay, Brooke?"
She tries to mask the cringe that her name on his lips brings out in her. Instead, she smiles at him and nods, "Of course. Nathan and Haley have been my friends for years. He's right; you and Jamie, that's their son, are around the same age. You'll probably have a lot in common." You're cousins; after all, she barely suppresses the urge to say. "Go ahead."
He must forget he hates her, and his whole life has been turned upside down, for just a small moment because his face lights up like a Christmas tree and his smile is beaming at her. "Thanks."
It's not a lot but it's something. And she hopes with everything in her to see that smile more often. Soon.
Even if it's another thing that proves he's Lucas's.
At that moment, Lucas must decide that it's time for him to meet Brooke's guest, before he leaves, because he walks over to the side of the counter Brooke's on. The side that Ethan is still facing.
Her aunt must have, at some point, slipped Lucas's name because Ethan looks as scared as she feels. But he's watching his dad expectantly. She's not sure if he wants a reaction or not. She's not sure if she should watch Ethan and make sure he's okay either way or if she should look to Lucas and plead with him not to freak out.
Lucas is not as quick as Nathan is to see it. Haley must have asked Nathan to figure it out. She turns toward him and he's looking at Ethan. He's talking but she doesn't hear a word of what he's saying. It's mostly about basketball anyway.
She looks back to their son and can feel him trying to shrink himself. So, he doesn't want a reaction, it seems. And then Lucas must say something funny—or maybe, it's Nathan. She can't really hear anything but the whooshing noise in her ears, screaming at her that this is it. She feels Lucas's hand reach out and touch her arm as they all start laughing. Maybe they're talking about her basketball skill- or lack thereof. Whatever it is, the light touch makes her automatically turn back toward Lucas. Missing completely the fact that Ethan is laughing, too. Or, not missing it, just the implications of it.
Lucas is looking at her anyway and she knows from the look on his face that, yes, they're laughing at her expense. But before she can lock eyes with him, he turns back toward the other two people in the room. And her eyes stay trained on his smiling face.
And she sees the exact moment that he knows.
His smile disappears so fast that it's almost like it was never there. And his eyes widen, much in the same way Nathan's did a few minutes ago. Much in the same way Ethan was looking at Nathan when he realized he was Nathan Scott and at Lucas because he knew that was his dad.
The only difference is that when he turns to her, his eyes are full of unspoken betrayal. She has never seen him look so hurt before. Not when she lied to him about lying about the pregnancy during junior year. Not when he walked in on her and Chris. Not when she broke up with him. Or when he found out about Dan being Keith's killer. Or the night he told her Peyton said no. Or when Lindsey left him at the altar. Never.
And she knows then that the two conversations she had last night were a day at the park compared to what's coming. Because this matters more.
Hematters more.
O Lord, where are you?
Do not forget me here.
-x-b-x-l-x-
I cry in silence.
Can you not see my tears?
His. Without a doubt, the child sitting across from him is his. He's basically the spitting image of him at around that age, with darker, thicker hair. Brooke's, no doubt. How he didn't see it until the boy smiled, he has no clue. Maybe he was trying not to see it. Because he didn't want this child to be Brooke's, so he wasn't looking at him as closely as he could have been.
But the moment he saw that face—it's almost like looking in a mirror—smiling up at him, he saw Sawyer. And he knew.
And Brooke's eyes, full of unshed tears and silent begging, are telling him that he's not wrong. This isn't his imagination. He has no idea how, or when, or even why, but this is his child. His- what did Brooke say? Ten years old? - grown child staring back at him.
He's in awe. He and Brooke made a baby together. He's shocked. She didn't want that baby? He's sad. He missed ten years of this kid's life.
But mostly he's guilt-ridden and pissed as hell at the person who put him here. Brooke.
Nathan is speaking again so he does his best to turn toward them—away from Brooke. His son is watching him. Waiting. He must know. Then he sees his brother touch Ethan, his son, and he turns to get down off of the stool he's been sitting on.
"Wait." He didn't even realize he was going to speak until he did. "Ethan? Wait."
The little boy turns around and Lucas rushes around the counter to get to him. He wants him to know…
So much. There's so much he wants him to know. And looking into the ten year old's eyes; he knows it's not the time to tell him much of it. First, and foremost, Brooke is still his mom. And she has a right to explain before he jumps in and messes anything up. He's calling her Brooke. That must mean he doesn't really know her either. So it's not like she horded him away for herself. But what stops him from speaking, most of all, is his little boy's eyes, so much like his own and Sawyer's, but so much older and wiser than they should be. And more sad. Much more sad. He wouldn't be able to stand it if he made them worse.
So, instead of saying anything, he kneels to his level and hugs him. Tight. Too tight probably. He feels like, if he lets go, it might be the last time he ever touches him, so he keeps his hands on his shoulders and looks into his eyes. He softly tells him the only thing he can think of—without it being too much. "This is actually not Nathan. It's Uncle Nathan. Okay?"
The little boy nods. He doesn't seem upset; it's more like understanding. "And when you get to their house, his wife is Aunt Haley. Jamie's your cousin- be nice to him. And your little sister is there, too. Her name's Sawyer."
He can feel Brooke behind him. She's not mad, just uneasy. He takes that as a sign that it's okay to keep talking. "She looks just like you, with blonde hair. She likes hugs. Do you like hugs?"
His little boy has tears in his eyes now and he needs to stop. He wants to stop. But then Ethan nods his head and Lucas just wants to hold him all over again. So he does. He can feel himself choking up and he doesn't want to cry in front of this child, who has so much happening to him already. He needs to finish up and let Nate take him away. For now.
He pulls away but this time, Ethan keeps his hands on Lucas's shoulders. "I'm your dad," Lucas tells him, pushing past the lump forming in his throat to the awe surrounding his heart. Who knew it was possible to feel love so quickly and strongly for a grown child? "And," he can't believe he's about to say it, "Brooke is your mom. You can find a respectful name to call her. Brooke's not it. Okay?"
Ethan nods again but he knows if he goes any farther, the little boy will disengage from the conversation. His expressive eyes tell him everything he needs to know. "I need to talk to your mom but I'll come get you and your sister afterwards, okay?" He lets go completely, standing up. "Have fun."
As if that could be possible for the poor kid.
When all have left me,
And hope has disappeared.
You'll find me here.
-x-b-x-l-x-
When everything I was is lost.
I have forgot but you have not.
Brooke watches as Ethan slips his hand into Nathan's- something he wouldn't do with her just yesterday- and walks out the front door. Lucas is watching them, too, from right beside her. Though, for all it's worth, he could be a million miles away. It's the first time, in a very long time, that he's completely closed to her.
She can't read what he's feeling. At all.
He turns toward her with the blankest stare he has ever given her. She's not sure she can even begin to talk to him while he's looking at her like that. She expected him to be mad and maybe hurt. But blank? That could mean too many different things.
And what was with what he just said to Ethan? What if Ethan hadn't known he was his dad? What if Ethan didn't know he was their son? That'd be a lot for him to take in. Maybe Lucas can read him better than her. He didn't take it badly- the half introduction, half lecture Lucas just gave him. But then again, even if he did, would she be able to tell?
He turns on his heel and it looks like he's just going to leave. She can't let him go so she stops him, reaching out for his arm, she whispers, "Lucas…"
It's all she can say. She has no clue how to start. She doesn't know what he needs to hear. What will fix this?
The words that will help her keep Lucas. As a friend. As someone who loves her.
What will stop him from taking Ethan from her before she even has the chance to win his love? Would he take Ethan?
She doesn't have the words. If there are any in this world that could help, she doesn't know what they are.
He looks down at the hand that she laid on his forearm and she can see, for a brief minute, the hurt cross his face. When he turns his face up to look at her, though, it's gone. The blank is back and his words are icy. "Brooke, you don't want to do this with me right now. I need a minute. I'm just going to take a walk and when I get back, you're going to explain."
The arm she's not touching lifts up and he pulls her hand away from him. She nods, trying to hide the hurt that she can't help feeling at his disdain for her touching him. She wants to explain to him now but she has no voice.
He takes a step back from her as if he can't do this so close to her. "And Brooke?"
She looks up into his ice blue eyes, where steel seems to be forming. He continues, "It better be a good explanation. Because I loved you with everything I had. And I feel like that's ruined now. Forever."
With that, he turns his back to her and walks out of her house.
She stares at the closed door, blinking the tears back. She will not cry. She doesn't deserve to cry.
Only, she has to. She loses the battle to the wrenching sobs pushing their way out. She has never felt this empty.
What could she possibly say if he's already saying loved? Past tense never hurt so much.
When I am lost,
You have not lost me.
And if I had to crawl,
Will you crawl too?
-x-b-x-l-x-
I stumble and I fall.
Carry me through.
He's in the car with his uncle. His uncle who is Nathan Scott. The NBA player. He wonders if it's some kind of sin to be excited to be here. With his uncle. Instead of wishing he was still at home. It's quiet but not the same quiet that filled the car ride with Brooke yesterday. He isn't being silent with his uncle on purpose. He just doesn't know what to say.
Thankfully, Uncle Nathan takes the lead. "I think you're really gonna like Jamie. You guys are only a couple of months apart. He loves basketball, too."
"My aunt says that it's a waste," he tells him. "How much time I spend playing and following college and pros. We don't have a team at the school on the island."
"Oh, really?" He looks interested in what Ethan's saying, "What made you so into it then?"
He's going to answer him when his uncle gets a big smile on his face. "I mean, it's probably just ingrained into your blood. Lucas would probably be pro, too."
"He plays, too?" Ethan asks curiously. His dad is almost a complete mystery to him. But he seemed nice enough for a stranger. He told Ethan more than Brooke did about his life in five minutes and she had all day yesterday. She didn't even try. And he wants him to call her mom? Not fair.
"He did." His uncle seems a little uneasy with answering the question.
Ethan wants to know why but he doesn't want everyone to wish he wasn't here. He already has a mom who doesn't want him. "Maybe that's why she sent me it, then."
"Who?"
He hadn't realized he said it out loud but now his newfound famous uncle is waiting for an explanation. "Brooke," he waits for Nathan to correct him. He doesn't, only waits for more information, so he continues, "A few birthdays ago. She sent a basketball. I guess that's when I started to get interested in it."
"She was a cheerleader," Nathan tells him, as if he wants to know. "Head cheerleader. Lucas was so in love with her. He and I shared captain of the basketball team for most of senior year."
He can feel the excitement leaving as a hopeless feeling he knows all too well comes over him. "They have a baby?"
"Who? Brooke and Lucas?" Nathan sounds confused.
Ethan looks over at him, "He said I have a sister. My aunt talked about her a lot. My…" he was going to try it. Calling her mom. But he just can't. "Her Brookie. But she never said that she had another baby. Aunt Charlotte always said she'd come for me. That I was her baby."
He can't help how sad it makes him. Even if Lucas didn't know. Even if Brooke just didn't want him so much that she never even told his dad about him. They still had another baby. A girl. A girl Brooke probably loves. How can he call her mom?
She didn't love him enough to keep him. She doesn't want him. And she has a family that he's not in when he should be.
"Oh," his uncle says pulling onto the side of the road. He turns to him, "Sawyer isn't Brooke's baby. Lucas married someone else. Peyton. Brooke doesn't have any other kids."
He processes that for a minute. "But you said he loves her? Aunt Charlotte said he's the love of her life."
Uncle Nathan just nods at him. "Yeah. Both of those things are probably true. It's a long story and I think it's one that neither of them would thank me for telling you."
Ethan looks at him, trying to figure out if he should ask more questions. His uncle turns back toward the road and starts driving again.
Peyton. They didn't grow up and get married. They aren't a family. She doesn't have a baby that's not him. He should feel better but he doesn't.
"Uncle Nathan?" he questions.
"Yeah, buddy?"
"Do you think she's gonna be okay?" he asks. "Because my … Lucas looked kind of mad at her. And I think she was scared."
His uncle pulls into a long driveway with a big house at the end of it and stops the car. He turns and looks him in the eye. "Your dad would never hurt your mom on purpose, Ethan. Not ever. He might be mad. And she's probably scared to death of losing him. Because they do love each other. But, like he said, they're going to talk. I'm sure your mom will try to make him understand. I don't know if he will. Lucas…"
He stops and Ethan doesn't think he's going to keep talking. But then after a short pause, he continues, "He's a really good dad. I know that he's just upset that he didn't get to know you for your whole life. And, just between you and me?" Ethan nods. "He's always loved your mom. This is big thing. But they will get through it."
Ethan lets that soak in. His uncle sounds so sure and he would know better than him. After all, Ethan just met both of them. Nathan has been around them his whole life.
"Come on, buddy," his uncle opens the door. "Let's go get Jamie and shoot some hoops."
He doesn't want them to be mad at each other. Not over him.
He doesn't need another reason for her to not want him. If Lucas stays mad because of him, she'll never even like him. And Aunt Charlotte went with the angels. Where would he go?
It's not that he wants her to love him. He doesn't. But maybe she could like him. Just a little. And then maybe she'd want him.
Maybe he'll even call her mom. If she could just like him.
The wonder of it all,
Is you see me through.
There it is! What'd you think? Click the review and let me know, if you please. Thanks for reading!
xx- Cor