"Just don't, Kennedy," Gabby said, picking up the small child. There was no DNA test needed. This child was Kennedy's. She started walking away, as fast as she could. Kennedy's long strides were no match for hers, and he fell into step with her.
"How could you not tell me?" he asked, clearly ignoring her last comment. I didn't know what I wanted to happen. I wanted us to have walked into the waiting room a minute or two later and missed Gabby completely.
I know it was wrong of me, but Kennedy and I were doing so well. Things were back to how they should be.
The fact that Kennedy had a child on this Earth for three years was an alien concept to me. He was Kennedy. He was my fiancé. He was… well, he was the best part of me. We were supposed to have kids. We were supposed to have the happy family. Me and Kennedy, not Kennedy and Gabby.
I followed them outside, but kept my distance. I didn't want to interrupt. I took this time to study Gabby. She was gorgeous. She was Kennedy's first love, and like he said, first loves never die. As they turned and faced each other, their muffled tones inaudible, my heart broke for that three year old. She had no idea what was happening, and why some strange man was talking to her mom. She didn't know that strange man was her father. She stood between them, looking back and forth as their conversation progressed. She lost interest really fast and started wandering away to find something else more interesting.
"Olivia, stay close to mommy, please," Gabby said, stopping their discussion for a brief moment. She looked like an Olivia. Kennedy watched her wander her way over to me. He looked tired, and hurt, and I guess I couldn't blame him.
"I'll keep an eye on her," I said, loud enough to where they could hear me. Olivia, dressed in a turquoise jumper, walked right up to me and held out her hand. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with it. So I gave her a high five. She let out a little melodious laugh, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Hi," she said. Well, this kid wasn't shy, just like her father.
"Hello," I said. She sat down next to me and kicked her feet, her brown suede boots making a steady rhythm on the concrete. "My name is Peyton."
I didn't know how to talk to kids. I avoided them at all costs. I was sure I would like my own, when that time came, but other peoples kids, forget it.
"I'm Olivia and I'm three," she said, holding up four fingers. I smiled and put one of her fingers back down.
"Oops," she said, giggling again. "When I grow up, I want to be a shark."
"I know just the person who could help you with that career," I snickered to myself, thinking of no one other than Justin.
"I also want a pony," she said.
"Wait a few years. Trace Cyrus will have offspring," I said, and then wondered what the hell I was doing. She didn't understand a thing I was saying, I was just having fun talking to a three year old.
"What is 'offspring?'" she asked, her head cocked to the side in curiosity.
"Oh, um," I thought. "You know, like babies."
"Oh," she nodded, stood up and started to spin, her brown curls flowing freely in the wind.
She was smart for her age. Most three year olds were still learning how to piece sentences together, staring at Barney, and picking boogers.
Olivia was, perhaps, one of the most charming kids I have ever met. She was easy to love, just like her father. I looked back at Kennedy, who had his arms wrapped around a tearful Gabby. I sighed and looked at Olivia. This child had just changed everyone's life drastically, and she didn't even know it.
/\/\/\/\
"And she just went on and on about how she just knew I couldn't handle it. How the band was all that mattered to me. What does she know? She didn't even give me a chance. She hid my daughter, a whole human being, from me for three years. For three fucking years, a little piece of me was crawling around, learning to walk and talk, and I didn't have the option to be a part of it or not," he was gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles were white. "AND," he continued, "She said that she doesn't think it would be a good idea for me to start trying to be a dad now. Can you believe that?"
"Kennedy," I said, trying to find the right words, "For whatever reasons she has, she was trying to do what was best for her daughter." He opened his mouth to interject, but I wouldn't let him. "I'm not saying that it was the right thing, but for whatever reason, SHE thought it was right. I just think you need to give her a little while to figure it all out."
"She's had three years to figure it out. I have only known that I had a kid for," he looked at his watch, "Oh, about two hours."
Yes. Olivia and I bonded for two whole hours. I didn't know if that was good or not. Her charm was so infectious and genuine; it was hard not to fall head over heels for the kid.
"I know it's a lot to swallow, but you're going to make it through this. We're going to make it through this," I said, grabbing his hand off of the steering wheel and lacing my fingers with his. I felt his tension slowly release as he started to calm down.
"I'm sorry," he said, as we pulled into our driveway. "I haven't even thought about how this must be affecting you."
"This really has nothing to do with me, Kenny."
"It has a lot to do with you. You're going to be my wife in a matter of a few months, and if Gabby decides to let me see Olivia, then you will be her step-mother. I need to know that that's going to be okay with you."
"Of course it is. I just…"
"You wanted a family of our own. We can still have that. Olivia will be a part of it."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." I smiled, thinking of the three year old that had quickly captured my heart.
/\/\/\/\
I paced back and forth, my feet lightly padding on the hardwood floors, waiting for Kennedy to get home. He went to meet Gabby that morning, to discuss their daughter. I was nervous. He wanted to do the right thing; he wanted to be a dad. I just hoped Gabby would let him.
Three hours later, Kennedy came sauntering down the hallway. He didn't look very enthused on life. I guess things took a turn for the worse.
"She's not letting you have any contact with Olivia?" I asked, covering my mouth my hands. I meant to let him speak first. Way to go. He looked up from his gaze at the floor and stopped walking. He stuck his hands in his pockets, and that was never a good sign.
"She is."
"Baby, that's great!" I said, bounding towards him to give him a hug. His body went stiff, and the hug was not reciprocated. "What's wrong?" I asked, releasing him from my hold.
"Nothing. I just have to go through a lot of court dates and lawyers to even consider having joint custody of her. It just seems like a lot of hoops to jump through. Why can't things be easy?" he asked, expecting me to have the answer.
"It will be worth it. She's really a great kid."
"I haven't really gotten the chance to meet her, formally. Every time I meet with Gabby, she's alone."
"You have the rest of your lives to get to know each other," I said, trying to cheer him up. "She's going to love you. Your personalities are so similar, it's uncanny."
He smiled. "Thank you for being so great with all of this. You really are the only thing keeping me calm right now. I have so much going on, and I am glad you are with me. I would be lost without you."
"No, you wouldn't be." I kissed him softly. "You're a good man, Kennedy Brock."
/\/\/\/\
"And then there was a big bowl of ice cream and I shared it with Nutters and mommy yelled at me," Olivia was telling everyone a story about what happened this morning. Gabby and Kennedy had a meeting with a lawyer to try to get the whole custody thing under control. Gabby was giving him equal custody, and for that, I was grateful. Peyton was babysitting. Testing out the whole, "I am going to be your step-mother," thing. It was weird. I wasn't going to lie.
"Who is Nutters?" Nick asked. Olivia had taken a strong liking to Nick, and was sitting on the side of his bed, brushing his hair with her Hello Kitty comb.
"My kitty," she answered, with a huge smile on her face.
"This kid is incredible. She's so smart. All Nick did when he was three was sit like a lump, and make messes in his diapers."
"You wore diapers when you were three?" Olivia gawked at him.
"He wore diapers until he was five."
"Ma!"
"Preschool was hell."
"Oooo, you said a bad word." Olivia said, pointing at Mama Santino.
"Mama Santino! Language!" I said, happy that the tables had turned. She just shook her head and continued knitting.
"Can I meet Nutters one day?" Nick asked Olivia. Her beaming smile lit up the room, and she nodded over and over again.
"When are you going to stop hurting?" she asked him, looking at the morphine drip they still had set up for Nick. It was his fourth day in the hospital.
"Well, the doctors said that I may get to go home tomorrow. If I am good."
"Are you going to be good?" she asked, sitting up on her knees and giving him all of her attention.
"Of course I am. I want to get out of this silly looking dress," he said. She giggled started brushing his hair again.
"Are you sure she's Kennedy's?" Nick asked. "She's too smart to be his."
"You need a haircut," she said, shaking her head from side to side. "Can I cut it?" she asked, getting excited.
"And on that note, we should probably let Nick rest so that he can get out of here tomorrow."
"So that he can see Nutters?" she asked me, standing up on the bed and holding her arms out for me to pick her up.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, kid," he winked at her.
"Nicholas needs to give me grandchildren," Mama Santino said, not even bothering to look up from her knitting.
"Ma, shhhh," he sighed, and then he looked at me. "I have a date tomorrow night."
"No way! Mama Santino's magic finally work?" I asked.
"Apparently. Sophia and I are going out to dinner tomorrow night."
"Can I come?" Olivia asked. "Nutters and I want basketti!"
"Spaghetti," I corrected her, and then gave Nick a high five.
"Hop on it, Nicholas! Bout damn time!"
"Oooo, Peyton," Olivia pointed at me.
"Peyton! Language!" Mama Santino smiled smugly.
"My bad," I laughed and let Olivia tell Nick and Mama Santino goodbye.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"It's like a trail run kind of thing. Gabby is hesitant about it, but I finally talked her into it. I get Olivia three days a week for the next two months. We decide from there if it is working, and if I am a fit parent." Kennedy said, unloading the groceries from the bag.
"Do we have her tomorrow?" I asked.
"Why?"
"Because she and Nick have plans," I laughed.
"It actually starts tonight. Gabby is bringing her over. I know this is really hard on her. She kept her a secret for a reason, and now that I know about her, I don't know. I feel bad, because Gabby has to sacrifice her time with Olivia so that I can spend some time with her."
"She's your daughter too," I said.
"I know, I know."
Gabby didn't take to me too well. We only met briefly, but she wasn't the nicest person in the world. I just let myself think it was because she was going through all of this, and the fact that I, potentially, may help raise her daughter.
The small taps on the glass window made me giggle, as Olivia smushed her face onto it, distorting it in every way she could think of.
"I'll have to Windex that tomorrow," I chuckled and opened the side door. She bounced in the house, gave me a hug and then ran straight for Kennedy, not slowing down at all. She jumped full speed onto him, and he caught her with ease.
"Hi," she said, smiling that million dollar smile.
"Hey," he said, kissing her cheek.
"Ouch!" she said, putting her hand to his stubble. "That hurts. You need to cut it off."
"But I like it," he fake whined. She ran her hands over it one more time and then shook her head. "It has to go, daddy."
Just like that, in a matter of a few days, he was daddy. He smiled and set her down, looking over at me. He didn't have to say anything, I already knew. It was one of the proudest moments of his life.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Kids were a lot of work, and that was an understatement. The next morning, we decided it was time for all of the boys to meet little miss Olivia. As you can imagine, everyone instantly loved her.
"Uncle John, what does that say?" she asked, pointing to one of his tattoos.
"It says, 'Olivia is the queen of the world.' That's what it says." She smiled and shook her head. "No it doesn't. I know what my name looks like."
"It says 'We all have been degraded. We all will be the greatest.'"
"Hm," she said, sitting down on his lap.
"What's your first tattoo going to be?" he asked her.
"A pink unicorn," she said. "With rainbows."
"I like it," he said, giving her a high-five.
"Don't encourage the tattoos, John." Kennedy sighed.
"You have one though, daddy," she said, pointing to his wrist.
"Everyone but Pat has one."
She hopped off of John's lap and onto pats and started playing with his hair. They were all really comfortable with Olivia, thank god. They would all make great dads one day.
"When is Nick coming?" she asked, eyeing the door.
"Right now," he said, slowly limping, with the help of Mama Santino and Andrew, into the living room.
"He wouldn't let me take him anywhere until he came by to see Olivia," Mama Santino said.
"Nick!" she yelled, jumping down and running across the room.
"Easy, Olivia!" I said, and she stopped running, and gently gave him a hug.
The rest of the day was filled with games, dress up, [imagine John Ohh in a skirt] and tea parties.
This little girl had a room full of uncles wrapped around her finger, and believe me, I think she knew it.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Here that?" Kennedy asked. I listened intently, but caught nothing.
"No?"
"Silence," he said, pulling me close to him. Olivia had spent her three days with us, and to our amazement, she had no homesickness. She made herself at home, and that was all we really wanted. Our lives had changed so much in the past week, and we were just now starting to catch our breath.
"Gabby wants to see me tomorrow. She said she has something important to talk about."
"Maybe it's just finalizing the details of the custody stuff." I shrugged, rubbing lotion down my arms, getting ready for bed.
"I guess I'll find out tomorrow." He shrugged.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
He couldn't even do it in person. He took the cowards way out, he called me. We had one good week together, Kennedy and I.
One week.
Now we had nothing. I set the last box down, wiping my brow of sweat that was collecting there. Jared wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close, letting me use his shirt as my own personal snot rag.
"Hey baby," I answered the phone call like I always did, only this time, the endearing term wasn't returned.
"This is hard for me to say," his ragged, shaky voice informed me.
"Kennedy what happened? Did she change her mind and not give you custody?" I asked, panic clearly evident in my tone.
"No. I have full custody."
"Kennedy, that's great!" I said, and then I thought about it. "Wait, why do you have full custo-"
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
"Kennedy, what is going on?" I demanded.
"The only way she would give me any kind of custody is if," he paused.
"Is if what?" I asked.
"Peyton, she threatened that I would never get to see Olivia ever again."
"Kennedy, what did she do?" I practically screamed into the phone, tears stinging my eyes.
"She wants us to be a family. Not a screwed up, all over the place family. A real family."
"I don't understand," I said, trying to grasp what he was telling me.
"In order for me to keep seeing Olivia, Gabby wants us to try," he stopped, taking a deep breath, trying to gather the words.
"Gabby wants you to try being together again," I finished for him, finally catching on.
"She was going to take Olivia away from me," he said, and I could hear him quietly sobbing. It was nothing compared to the sobbing happening on my end of the phone call. I couldn't breathe. Kennedy and I had one good week together, and now it was over.
"Thanks Jared," I said, sucking back my tears, and putting on a brave face. I was moving into Kennedy and John's old place with Pat and Jared. I couldn't move back in with my dad, I refused. I loved him dearly, but I am 22 years old. I needed to start living my life for me. Not for a boy, not for my dad, not for my friends, for me.
And I was starting by unpacking all of my belongings, drowning myself in a bottle of wine. Then a bottle of vodka, and if I am still not passed out, a bottle of tequila.
The old Peyton was dead. Kennedy killed her, and she would more than likely never return.
I was okay with that. Did I have any other choice but to be okay with that? You tell me, because I was done listening to what I had to say.
I was done listening to anything anyone had to say.