My greeting is met with a long, drawn out and very contagious yawn.
I catch mine with the back of my wrist as Goldie says, “good morning. How’s the newBeau? See what I did there. Beau as inman friend lover thingand Beau as in his actual name.”
I laugh through another yawn. I went to bed early, and it’s ten after seven in the morning, yet I feel like I didn’t sleep a freaking wink.
Too many dreams. Too many thoughts.
After Beau and I parted ways and I got Jett back down, I got my phone from my purse, settled into my least favorite chair in the house–my usual routine for this–and called Dustin.
I was shocked as hell that he answered.
“Rebecca?”
I was also taken off guard that he still had me programmed into his phone since, after our last meeting with the lawyers, I was pretty certain he’d wiped both Jett and me from his life. As if we never happened.
Me? Fine. Pretend I don’t exist. But your own fucking flesh and blood?
I made a lot of excuses for Dustin over the years. I defended him because I believed I was protectingus. But in hindsight, I was enabling him to stay a weak, pathetic, lazy, spineless fucker.
Hindsight is 20/20.
I don’t want to make excuses for him anymore. But I also don’t want to be so cold and unforgiving that if he wants to make a change, he feels like he can’t.
I never ever want my feelings for Dustin and what he did–or what hedoesn’tdo daily–to infect any potential relationship he could have with Jett.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I mumbled, staring out into the dark street from behind the spread curtain.
He hadn’t said anything but my name, but somehow I still possessed the ability to hear his annoyance. I had to bite my tongue less than ten seconds into the conversation.
“I know that. That’s why I saidRebecca,” he seethed, his words loose and slurring.
“Are you drunk?” I asked, my temples pounding. He’s not my responsibility; I no longer have the burden of making excuses for him. Still, piss drunk on a Monday evening without a fucking care in the world is just… too Dustin, and I couldn’t help my rage.
But for Jett, I swallowed it down because it didn’t belong there right then.
“Jett turns nine months old tomorrow,” I started because Dusty is one of those men that can’t take something all at once. He had to be spoon-fed baby bites of things and given time to digest. Now I know it’s not because he’s extremely thoughtful but because he’s a fucking douchebag.
“I signed the papers, Rebecca. Okay? You were there.” He was not only irritated but actually angry, raising his voice easily.
“I know, Dustin. I’m just letting you know, I’m planning a first birthday for him.” In the event Dustin can’t count, I added, “it will be in three months to the day tomorrow. The party's at my new place. I can text you the address.”
From his end of the line I heard ice clinking against a glass followed by a smooth swallow. “Did you watch too many Hallmark movies? Did I accidentally glance at you on the way to the courthouse and now you think I want to work my way back to you or some shit? Because I made it clear when we signed papers.He’s yours.” He took another audible swallow, and anger bubbled on my skin in the form of goosebumps. I clenched my teeth. “And I want nothing to do with you anymore, Rebecca. Got it?”
“It’s not about us,” I whispered. No one was there with me to hide from, so I didn’t need to wipe away the silent tears that fell. I let them fall and took another breath. “I want you to want to be in Jett’s life, Dustin. It’s not about us or you or me, it’s about Jett.For Jett.”
Being in the position where you’re pleading with the man whousedto be the love of your life to visit his own son is a surreal experience. Like floating above yourself and looking down.
Dustin, whom I was with for ten fucking years, was now the enemy that I had to be kind to. I thought of Beau as Dustin spoke.
“Jett is yours, and only yours, Rebecca.”
The way Beau swayed with Jett on the porch, how horror swept his face the day I showed up without Jett, how he said he looked forward to seeing him then protected that statement–even though it meant arguing with me.
My nose began plugging as the tears seemed never-ending.
Then he hung up.
And I cried. And didn’t get a wink of sleep.