This is chapter Two, if you have read it before, re read it because I'm re writing it.

"You do have a daddy, Mason," I answered. "He's just not... around." I knew that my answer didn't satisfy him one bit and another round of questions would come. However that would have to wait until this evening; we were running late.

"Why not," he asked looking puzzled.

I didn't want to tell Mason that I ran from his father because I was selfish. I didn't want to tell him out right that at the time I wasn't thinking of how this might affect him later on in life; that at the time I was only thinking of myself and my dreams. I was only thinking of myself, but also, at the time, I didn't know that Mason even existed, or even the possibility that it could happen that soon.

Of course at the time, I had made the decision to take care of the little problem that was standing in my way of a happy, bright future. I was going to get an abortion. It was the only thing I could think of. I didn't have Edward's email, phone number, or any way of contacting him. I could remember the day that I walked into the clinic.

There were pictures of people holding babies and little poems and things on the walls. I carefully walked up to the window and told the receptionist that I had an appointment. She quietly told me that they would call me back shortly.

I took a seat and began to look at all the magazines and brochures on the tables. I heard the door open and a girl about my age came out. She was crying, and pleading for them to stop the medication that was making its way to the precious, innocent, unborn child.

The nurses and doctor quietly told her there was nothing they could do about it now; that she was going to miscarry the child she was carrying. She fell to her knees and cried. I couldn't do anything but sit there and wonder if I was doing the right thing. Logically, I knew that I was doing the right thing. I was no way in any form or fashion ready to take care of a child. Emotionally was a different story. In my heart I knew what I was doing was what was right for me, but was it right for the child I was carrying?

I reached down and picked up a brochure that had little blue, shooting stars, and little yellow moons. I began to read it.

Mom

As you know I'm very small,

As you know I'm very small,

As you know I'm very small,

We've shared so many things together,

Then look into my eyes and see,

I love you with all my might.

- Unknown Author -

I knew at the moment I finished reading the short poem, that this child is mine; my responsibility. I reached up and wiped the tears off my cheeks, I slowly stood up took one look at the receptionist. She had been watching me the entire time. She gave me a short nod, and a sad smile. I knew that with that small nod and sad smile she was telling me that everything would be okay. I walked straight into this life head first, with nothing or no one to catch me if I was to fall. So that was the day that I let everything happen, because there was nothing I could do about life.

"Mason, honey, we'll talk this evening about your father. But you and I are going to be late if we don't get out of here soon." I was quite relieved that I didn't have to answer him until this evening. That gave me some time think about how I was going to tell him about my selfishness and how I almost gotten rid of him. That I never even tried to find his dad and tell him. I guess it's time to tell him about his father, well, what I knew about him anyway.

I rushed us out of our little apartment; I still had to drop him off at school and then go to class, and the library, and still have work tonight. I could tell this was going to be a very long day.

I began rehearsing this conversation in my mind, but I couldn't come up with anything. I knew I had all day to come up with the best way to tell him. But any way I tell him is only going to hurt him. Why didn't I just find Edward when I was pregnant, then I would never be having this conversation with my son. I only knew Edward for a short while; I knew I was beginning to fall in love with him. But to truly know, if I loved someone that quickly isn't ideal, or even realistic.

The day went too quickly for my liking. The conversation that I have been dreading was coming on fast and I didn't know what I was going say or even the best way to explain it to a five year old boy.

We got supper at the bar/café where I work and made our way home. I gave Mason a bath and got him into his Transformers pajamas. I laid him in his bed, and lay down beside him.

I took a deep breath and sighed. "Mason, what do you want to know about your father?" I could only pray that he would ask simple questions. But deep down I knew that anything he asked would be anything but easy.Lord,I need your help. Please give me the right words to say to him.

"Where is my daddy, and why isn't he here with me?" He would have to ask the hardest questions first. I guess he's like me and doesn't beat around the bush.

"Mason... I don't know how to break this to you, but I really have no clue where your daddy is and for your other question he isn't..." God I just knew that the next few words leaving my mouth would only make my son hate me for the rest of my life and his.

"He isn't with you because he doesn't know about you; Mommy never told him. Mommy has never tried to tell him about you," I replied. " I really don't have a good defense for not telling your father. All I can tell you is what I was feeling when I was young. I was scared , alone and determined that I could raised you by myself. I decided I couldn't force him to be involved in our lives if he didn't want to. I figured I could be enough for you."

Mason twisted around , his eyes red from crying.

The pain in those eyes amplified my own. With my trembling hand, I placed it on his blanket clad leg.

"Why, are you afraid I might like him more than you? I'll never leave you Mommy. I love you too much."

I took a deep breath, trying to fight both the tears and the memories that had appeared. Memories I had carefully exiled to the back of my mind in order to function like a normal human being.

"Will he ever come and be my daddy? How come things didn't work out with you guys?"

"Sometimes..." I couldn't hold back a sob. I hated myself for crying in front of my child. He couldn't help the mess I had made of my life and his. "Sometimes things just don't work out, sweetie." Lord, I know I was wrong. please help me to fix this with Mason.I need You more than ever.

I sat for another mintue staring at my child's rigid body beneath the blanket. All Iwanted to do was gather him up in my arms and hold him like I did when he was a baby. Instead,I settled for leaning over and kissing his cheek.

He shrank away and pulled his blanket totally over his head.

I could hear his soft snores as I rose out of his bed and walked into the hall way. I closed his door behind me. I leaned up against his door for support as I cried. I will find his dad for him, come hell or high water, I will find his dad for him.

I began that night looking on the internet for an Edward Cullen. Several hits came up, but they were all too old for the person I was looking for. Lord, I'm here like I promised, but I'm still clueless what to do. Where do I start? How do I do it? Please help me. Amen

The next idea I had was put an ad in the classifieds in the New York Times. Yes, I was going to air my dirty laundry out for the world to see. Nevertheless, I was doing this for my son, not for me. I didn't even know where to begin in writing a classified such as this. Does he even still live in this state? I could only pray that he does or someone that knows him can relay this message to him.

I'm looking for Edward Cullen. He's got bronze colored hair, about 6'0-6'2. I met him in Colorado, on Winter break 2005. Might be a firefighter. Here's my email : and my cell number: 555-5329. Please, serious inquires only. If you know Edward Cullen, or know a way I can get in touch with him please pass this on to him.
The next thing I could think of was putting an ad on Craigslist. I added the same message as I did for the New York Times. Someone was bound to know the guy. How many people in America have that kind of hair? I turned off my computer and went to bed; hoping to hear from the mysterious Edward Cullen soon.