"Where are you now?!"
"What is wrong with you?!"
"Get the fuck out of Britian!"
"Don't ever contact me again!"
An enormous sigh fell from my lips as I scrolled through the texts Edwina had been spamming me with since we left Hyde Park. We were sitting a different park now- Regent's Park to be specific- with a McDonald's bag and Happy Meal box on the bench beside me. Sasha had gotten up to run off somewhere, leaving me to wallow over my phone there alone. I was practically hugging myself as I stared at her incessant messages. The last- and only- two I sent to Edwina were a two-word apology and telling her that I'm at Regent's Park with Sasha.
Should not have spilled the beans on that little detail.
With another disheartened sigh, I turned off my phone's screen and put it away in my backpack. Sasha was rushing over to me at this point with a great, big smile on his face. He was waving some freshly-picked flowers in his right hand. Wait, freshly-picked…..?
He clambered up onto the bench right beside me, beaming up with that wonderful grin of his. "I know what fake Dad said might have hurt your feelings, so I brought you some flowers to cheer you up! See? There're pink- your favourite colour." Smiling back at my beloved son, I pulled him up onto my lap to give him a tight squeeze. "Thank you, sweetness. I love them! And I love you so much." "Mmmmm, I love you too, Mom," he proceeded to hand me the clumsily-yet-lovely bouquet; I didn't ask where he procured these from. Sitting there with him safely on my lap, he continued to looked at me all wide-eyed and bushy tailed.
"So! Where'll we start looking for Dad now?" Suddenly clenching my lips together, I held my breath for a second. Oh no, here we go…. How am I going to explain this to him? My gaze wandered this way and that a tad as I struggled to find exactly the right words. "Uh, well you see… I think that man we met in the park- Anthony Bridgerton- is actually your father." Sasha immediately frowned, clearly unhappy with the idea. "No, he's not. Dad's nothing like him. He's nice and caring, and he loves us." "Yes, I know, honey. It's just that, um….. Uh….. Y-You see, sweetheart, sometimes people change. They can become meaner….. or nicer, depending on what circumstances they face. Your dad might not be very nice right now, but you know that he becomes nice once you're born," my thumb moved a few stray hairs off his forehead. Sasha still was confused, furrowing his brow a little.
"I don't get it. Why wouldn't Dad be nice right now? He called you a lair, Mom." "Y-Yes, and that was very rude of him. But you've got to remember that Daddy doesn't know who Mommy is. Mommies and Daddies don't fall in love right away; these things take time." He still didn't seem convinced, shaking his adorable head skeptically. "I still don't think he's Daddy. He's too mean…" His finger twiddled with a flower stem while he spoke; he was evidently mulling about something. I rubbed his back reassuringly.
"I know this is confusing for you, but… Maybe now's just not the right time for Daddy and Mommy to meet. Maybe Daddy's not emotionally ready," or I'm not emotionally ready. I'll be honest, while I think he's hot as sin, the Anthony Bridgerton I saw today was a trainwreck- not to mention he's engaged to my sister. That was a massive red flag right there. Edwina and Kate were two totally different people; two peas from different pods. Whatever attracts him to my sister, I most certainly do NOT have. And I'm definitely not into the kind of men Edwina likes. Although truthfully, knowing my sister, Anthony could have rocks between his ears and she wouldn't care. His greatest assets to her are all in the Bank of England- to hell the rest of it. That's certainly not how I approach love or marriage. To be honest, I'd never thought about it before….. Being in a relationship was never a top- or any- priority of mine. All I wanted was to graduate the top of my class and get a scholarship into PhD, which I did. Everything else seemed secondary to that, including my love life.
Sasha sighed, still playing with the stem. "When is the right time?" "I don't know." "Mmmmmm, but why would Dad marry someone he doesn't love?" "I'm sure Daddy loved me when he proposed to me." "But he doesn't seem to like you very much now, and now seems like a very good time for you two to meet. I don't think he's the right dad, Mom," he promptly exclaimed, and it took everything for me not to wipe my hand over my face. This is my fault; I'm obviously not doing a good job at explaining it… "Sometimes it takes a while for people to learn to like each other….." My voice trailed off a tad. Dear lord, what am I saying? Just listen to myself! Like really- could I see myself ever "liking" someone like Anthony Bridgerton? Lust after him, absolutely. But like, or even love? Hardly seems possible, especially with how he treated my child so coldly. Then again, I wasn't exactly jumping for joy when Sasha randomly turned up in my room outta nowhere, but now….. I couldn't imagine my life without him.
It didn't occur to me that Anthony might feel the same way about fatherhood.
Sasha's head cocked slightly and he opened his mouth to say something, but was abruptly cut off by an unexpected voice. "Kate? Kate!" Both our heads turned around, and I was utterly shocked to see none other than Violet Bridgerton hurriedly walking in our direction. She was waving a hand in the air so to grab our attention. "Mrs. Bridgerton?" I inquired while Sasha didn't look so sure this time. He stayed on my lap, clinging to my arm while the old viscountess approached us, heaving a little to catch her breath. She inhaled a few times, resting her hands on her kneecaps before smiling up at us.
"Ah! Glad I caught you!" She was still panting. "H-How you'd know we were here?" My voice was shaky and unreliable. Straightening her back, she met my gaze head on, still grinning warmly. "Your sister told us…. er, me. I've been looking everywhere for you both!" My son watched her with ample suspicion, eying her up and down slowly.
"Are you my real grandma or another fake?" "Sasha! I'm so sorry, ma'am." Violet smiled, now gazing down at my boy. "It's ok. I know what kids are like; I raised eight of them," she told them, and then to Sasha: "Hi there. Sasha, right?" "Yeah….." He narrowed his eyes at her questionably, shuffling even closer to me while maintain eye contact with her. But Violet grinned with charm, setting him at ease a bit, I'm sure. "You're a big boy, Sasha. How old are you?" "Five." "My, you ARE a big boy. Listen, do you know what lilacs look like?" "Yeah. You put them on Grandpa's grave every Sunday." Violet was quiet for a moment before gently nodding. "That's right. Can you please pick some for me?" My son hesitated, glancing up to me for instruction. I rubbed his back. "It's ok, honey. Mommy'll stay right here. You go pick Mrs. Bridgerton some nice lilacs." "Mmmmmmm, ok," he left us in not the greatest confidence. Violet waited until he was gone before turning to me.
"Huh, remarkable. He looks identical to Anthony when he was that age." "So… You believe us, then?" I was also hesitant to ask. She took her time responding, studying my expression before she did. "I don't know. I don't know what to believe. I DON'T believe in time travel or magic or any of the sort of stuff. But….." She paused here to gaze back at my son again, who was busy combing over the local flowers ponderingly- he was on a mission. Violet looked his way and her mouth hung silently open for a second. Then she spoke in a low, sincere tone.
"Anthony's greatest fear has been bees ever since his father died." "Sasha said something about his grandfather dying from a bee sting. I thought he confused my father with Anthony's." "Your father's gone as well?" Violet inquired and my head gently nodded as I stared at my kid off in the distance. "He died a while ago- heart attack." "I'm sorry to hear that," she too glanced in Sasha's direction. "I wish he coulda' met Sasha…." I cooed mournfully, and Violet finally peered over to me. "So he's really your son, then?" "Yes. What Edwina said is true; I've never actually been pregnant before, and I've never donated any eggs. But it's genetically impossible for him not to be my son….. So the doctor says." "Maybe you should get a second opinion….?" She suggested and I shrugged in response. "I believe the test. Besides, he has a lot of traits from my side of the family." "Mine too, so it would seem…" She pondered out loud, still studying the boy.
I bowed my head a touch before returning my gaze to her. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not here to ask for anything." "I never was under the impression you were, dear!" Violet's head shot in my direction, but I continued. "If Anthony doesn't want us here, we can disappear. I can take Sasha back to Canada, and you'll never hear from us again." "Well, I think that's a little drastic," she chuckled softly and I shook my head. "Sasha doesn't believe that Anthony's his father anyway, and there's no other "Anthony Bridgerton" for us to find here. What good is us staying? I should realistically get back home and start looking for a job so I can feed both of us," our money was starting to run out and fast. Plus there's the notion that Sasha should theoretically be starting school soon…. I think. What age do kids go to school in Canada? Ah, we'll figure that all out once we land back home.
Violet didn't speak for a sheer minute, instead glancing wistfully back out toward my son. Her hands were clasped tight onto her lap, pressing her palms together. Her lips then parted a sliver.
"I was pregnant with my last child when Edmund died. It was such a horrible time; I was so grief-stricken that I couldn't even leave my room. It was up to Anthony to set all his father's effects. That's when he inherited Edmund's pocket watch- a family heirloom passed down through the generations since the nineteenth century…." Violet paused here and, sensing she had more to say, I quietly waited for her to go, though I was looking her way through the corner of my eye now. Her mouth began to quiver as her fingers curled inward more.
"It was…. the worst time of my life, the year we lost Edmund. But what made it truly tragic to me was that Hyacinth never got to meet him. She's never known a world where he's there, where he can catch her in his arms, and tells her just how much he loves her….. She's the only one of my children who missed out on all that."
Another pause- longer this time. "Sasha doesn't have a father, does he?" She eventually asked me, and I had to remorsefully shake my head, hanging it down low. "No." And she too nodded with some tragedy. Inhaling deeply, profoundly, Violet's eyes turned back to my son, who was merrily inspecting the lilacs for the best ones, I'm sure. Watching him there, she couldn't help but smile.
"I can't say I believe your story…. But it's true that Anthony's never told anyone besides me before that he's terrified of bees. Not even his siblings or Edwina know that….." "I don't blame him, considering his dad died from a bee sting…." I replied and she nodded gracefully. Then her lips opened a tiny bit again in a thoughtful manner. "I don't know how he could know that….. He's just a child." "I don't know what to tell you. You know just as much about it now as I do….." Sasha began running back and Violet couldn't help but smile again, this time much more intently, sincerely….. "He looks a bit like Edmund too… when he runs," she whispered more to herself than to me, but this declaration still made me look at her in surprise.
Sasha came to us, holding a bunch of lilacs in his small fist. He was panting, taking in a few good breaths before showing off his spoils to his grandmother. "Here. Are these alright, Grandma?" She chuckled, tenderly taking them from him. "These are perfect. Thank you, Sasha." He scratched the back of his head while still standing in front of us. "Whatcha' talkin' about?"
"We're talking about you," I responded and he blinked confused. "Me?" "Your mother's been telling me all about you. Maybe you can tell me some more. Where were you born, Sasha?" "Uh, here in London, I think? We haven't been back to that hospital since; too painful, Dad says," he kicked a stone with the toe of his shoe, not overly infested in the conversation. Violet's chin lowered a tad. "And where do you live now?" "With you and Dad, either here or on our estate in the country….. Uh, I forget where exactly. Uncle Benedict sometimes stays with us, when he's not at his studio downtown." "Studio?" Violet's eyes immediately widened and Sasha nodded in confirmation. "That's what you and Dad call it. He goes there sometimes when he wants to work on his art." That's precisely when the colour started to leave Violet's cheeks. She had to press him for more information- more evidence.
"Is Benedict your only uncle?" I knew this was a trick question but Sasha didn't, innocently shaking his head. "Nope. There's Uncle Colin and Uncle Simon and Uncle Gregory and Uncle Phillip and uh… Oh yeah! There's Uncle Fredrich and Uncle John and Uncle Gareth too!" Violet looked at me, then back at Sasha worried. "You sure have a lot of uncles…" "Yeah, well my family's pretty big. The only thing I don't have are grandfathers….. And a mom, until now." Violet had the appearance of being hit by a metaphorical train. She gawked at him like she couldn't believe her eyes. Then she asked the million-dollar question: "A-And…. A-Are you sure Anthony Bridgerton is your father?"
Sasha nodded very, very firmly but then pointed his forefinger upset at her. "Yeah, but not YOUR Anthony! My dad's the greatest dad ever. He married Mom three years ago….." "Eight, honey," I gently corrected, and he gazed to me puzzled. "No, Dad said you got married three years before I was born." "Yes sweetie, but you have to add five years onto that. You're five, meaning Mommy had you five years ago." It took a second, but he got it soon enough, suddenly nodded his head again rapidly. "Oh right, yeah! Mom and Dad got married and had me. Auntie Daphne and Auntie Edwina always told me that Dad didn't really want to get married before he met Mom….. Er no, that's not right. He didn't want to be a father or fall in love with anyone." "Did they say why?" I asked him and he shrugged. "Uh, I don't know. Something about Dad being afraid of his wife becoming like Grandma after Grandpa died? He didn't want his family to be sad….." I glanced at Violet and she glanced at me; neither of us said anything right away.
Meanwhile my son came up and tugged on my sleeve. "Come on, Mom. We still need to find Dad. He'll be real excited to see us!" "Hold on a minute, Sasha. Mommy still needs to figure out what we're doing," I told him, then Violet spoke directly to me. "Where are you guys staying?" "Uh, just by London's King's Cross station," I wanted to follow this up with "why?" but refrained myself for some reason. Her eyes wandered out into space momentarily as her lips pursed together. She next blinked back to Sasha, who was still trying to get me to stand up. Her head gave a slow, grave shake. "It's impossible….. It's simply impossible. But how does he know so much…..? Have you told him any of this?" "I didn't even know Anthony Bridgerton existed until three days ago. Sasha's told me everything I know," excluding what I've been able to drudge up online. Her lips squeezed together again in a contemplative manner. Then she shuffled on the bench to face me directly, her hands still folded on her lap with the flowers.
"Would you please give me your number?" "U-Uh y-yeah, sure!" I wasn't expecting that. While I imputed it into her phone, her chin lowered a tad. "I've got to make some calls and schedule some tests. Will you be available tomorrow morning?" "Uh, yes! Yes, of course." And she finally smiled, albeit with somewhat more trepidation now. She clenched her phone in her hand, looking at my son one final time that afternoon. "I still don't know what to think… But if there's any truth to this whatsoever…." And then she breathed very, very heavily. "My daughter was raised never knowing her father….
I don't want this child to suffer the same fate, if it can be avoided."