“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?”
I can see the concern etched on Mark’s face and feel guilty for my asshole routine since I walked in the door.
“Sorry, I just…”
“Is it your knee?”
I wish it was that simple. My knee pain I can handle.
“Worse… a kid.”
“Trouble with the neighbors?” Mark chides. “Is the mom at least single?”
“Yeah, she is. The dad’s single, too. And clueless. Knows nothing about kids.”
Mark cocks an eyebrow and gives me a strange look.
“It’s me. I’m the dad. Supposedly.”
“Woah, woah, woah, back up. You knocked up someone?”
“Already? I wish. No, apparently, this one is five years past due.”
“Five years. You mean?”
I nod. “Norah.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah, oh shit is right.”
“So, she just showed up and dropped the bomb on you? So, what excuse did she give you for keeping this from you all these years?”
I flag down the waitress and order another drink before running my hand through my hair.
“She didn’t say anything because she wasn’t there.” Thankfully, the waitress returns with my beer, and I can take a long sip before continuing. “Dorothy, her mother, showed up with my potential daughter. Seems like Norah disappeared when Amelia was only six weeks old. She’s been living with her grandmother ever since.”
“Fuck,” Mark exhales. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Norah always was a bit flighty.”
“Flighty, yes. The type of woman to walk away from her own child?” I shake my head, refusing to believe it, even though I know it’s the truth. “I can’t see her doing that.”
“Well, clearly, she did.” Mark claps his hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “I hate to be the one to point this out, but are you sure she’s yours?”
“If you saw her, you wouldn’t have a doubt. She’s got my eyes, my dimples.”
“Poor kid,” Mark teases, trying to lighten the mood. When I don’t respond, he drops an apology on me. “I’m sorry, man. This is a tough spot.”
Another pull of my beer.
“Oh, it gets worse.”
“Impossible.”
“Dorothy’s sick,” I say, taking it as a challenge. “She’s dying and doesn’t have much time left. Amelia will be left without a soul in this world.”
“Fuck.”
“I just don’t get it.” I scrub my hand over my face. “I don’t get how she could leave her. How she couldn’t tell me. Christ, man, I have a kid, a five-year-old kid, and as much as that scares the shit out of me, I’ve missed out on everything… her whole life.”