Hummingbird Heart (17 page)

“This is so intense,” Toni said. “I'm actually kind of nervous.”

I snorted. “Please.
You're
nervous?”

The elevator door opened and Mark stepped out. He was more casually dressed this time, wearing jeans and a blue sweater. Toni leaned close to me. “Dylan! He's totally hot.”

“Shut up. He's totally old.”

Mark waved and headed our way. I waved back.

“Hello, Dylan.” He glanced at Toni. “I'm Mark Wheatcroft.”

“Sorry. Toni, Mark. Mark, this is my best friend Toni. Uh…” I looked at Toni frantically and she came to my rescue as always.

“Dylan had some questions and she wanted to talk to you, so…” She shrugged. “So here we are.”

“Here you are.” Mark nodded solemnly, but one corner of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he was holding back a laugh. “How about we go into the restaurant and I buy you both a Coke or something?”

“I have money,” I blurted out. “I mean, you don't have to pay for us.”

Toni elbowed me. “Thanks. That'd be great. I'd love some tea, actually.”

We took a corner table, and Mark ordered tea for all of us. “So,” he said, once the waiter had gone, “I'm glad to get the chance to thank you, Dylan. For trying to help Casey. For agreeing to be tested.”

“Sure. I mean, of course I would.”

He smiled and I noticed that his mouth went up more on the left than the right, same as mine. “I didn't know what to expect, to be honest. I thought you might be pretty angry with me. You know, for not having been around all those years and then showing up like this.”

Toni kicked me under the table.

“Yeah. Well, I kind of was.” I cleared my throat. “Mom always told me you didn't want to meet me.”

“But now? Did she tell you…?”

“Yeah. You never even knew about me. She never told you she was pregnant.”

Mark put his hands on the table and leaned toward me. “God, I'm so glad. I can't tell you what a relief it is that you know that. I so wanted to tell you. I hated to think that you imagined I was some…”

“Deadbeat,” Toni put in helpfully.

He nodded. “Mmm. Yes. Thank you.”

“Why didn't you just tell me yourself?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it.

“When I called your mother, she agreed to let me meet you as long as I promised I wouldn't talk about any of that. And—well, I didn't want to cause problems for you or her.”

“Weren't you angry though?” I asked. “I mean, that she'd never told you? Don't you think you had a right to know that you were, you know…”

“A father?” He nodded. “Yes. Very angry, at first. But I've had a couple of years to come to terms with that.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“I said, I was angry, but I'd—”

Toni broke in. “Hold on. You've known about Dylan for two years?”

He looked at me, frowning. “I thought you said your mother told you.”

“Not everything, I guess.”

“Argh.” Mark rubbed his forehead, pushing the skin into wrinkles. “I'm not sure what to do here. I don't want to create difficulties for you and Mandy. Amanda.”

“She's the one who's created difficulties,” I said. “I think I have a right to know the truth.”

“I agree, Dylan. You do. But keep in mind, your mother was only sixteen when she found out she was pregnant. Her mom had died not that long before, and she was pretty wrecked over that. Well, you can imagine.” Mark rubbed the lines on his forehead. “Her dad was no help. He cared more about getting drunk than he did about anything else. I don't know if Mandy even told him she was pregnant. They'd barely spoken since she moved out.”

“She moved out? Left home, you mean? When was that?” I'd known her dad drank, and that they hadn't spoken in years, but it was driving me crazy that Mark seemed to know more of the story than I did.

He shook his head. “Look, I don't want to get in the middle of things between you and your mother. You should talk to her about this. Let her explain how it was.”

“But she won't. She doesn't like talking about it.” My eyes stung with tears of anger. “I don't understand why she never told you about me.”

“Nor do I, not really. Maybe there isn't a logical reason, Dylan. When I got in touch with Amanda—the first time, two years ago, I mean—she tried to explain. She said she just panicked and took off. Running away from all kinds of stuff, not just me.” He shook his head. “Sixteen. Same age as you. God, it's crazy, really. The whole thing. I feel pretty sick when I think about it.”

The waiter arrived with pots of tea and milk and sugar, and we all took a minute to pour and stir. Toni leaned forward. “So how did you find out about Dylan?”

Mark sipped his tea and winced. “Hot.” He rubbed his chin, which was faintly blue with stubble, and looked at me. “A couple of years ago, Lisa ran into an old friend—a guy called Paul, someone who had known Amanda and me and Sheri back when we were teenagers. He was a bit of a troubled guy back in those days—still is, probably. Anyway, he'd stayed in touch with Sheri and he told Lisa about Sheri's accident. He'd been to the funeral the year before, was all choked up talking about it.”

I nodded. “Okay. But…”

“He told her that Sheri had a kid, a little girl, and that the kid had gone out west to live with Amanda and her daughter, who was about fourteen.” Mark shook his head. “Lisa told me and I did the math. I didn't know for sure, of course, but I figured you could be… you might be…”

“This was two years ago?”

“Uh-huh. I looked online—Amanda Jarvis—and found her business, Urban Cleaners.”

“Urban Organics,” I corrected.

“Yeah. And I called her and asked about you.”

“Two years ago.” Right after Karma came to live with us. And Mom had said nothing to me. Not a word. “What did she say?”

He sipped his tea again, and when he put it back on the saucer, it clattered, and I noticed his hand was shaking slightly. “She said that yes, I was your father—though she didn't use that word. I think she said that yes, I got her pregnant, as if it was entirely my fault. She said her dad had given her some money to get rid of her—some life insurance policy from her mom's death, I think—and she'd gone out west to get a fresh start. She said she wanted me to stay away.” He looked at me steadily. “And I agreed. Did I do the wrong thing, Dylan? Maybe I should have pushed harder, but I didn't want to interfere in your lives after all that time.”

“Until Casey got sick.”

I could see his Adam's apple jump as he swallowed. “I'm sorry.” He looked at Toni for a moment and then back to me. “And I know I'm beyond preoccupied with her at the moment. Her illness has pretty much taken over our lives. But I'm glad you know that it wasn't my fault that I wasn't around. That I wasn't just an asshole, or, as your friend put it, a deadbeat.”

I nodded. “I'm glad too.”

“And…” He cleared his throat. “At some point, when things are more…when my life is a bit less…when Casey is better…” His voice cracked. “I really would like to get to know you, Dylan, if it isn't too late for that.”

My eyes were stinging. I stared down at my tea. “Maybe,” I said. “Yeah, maybe.” Under the table, I felt Toni's hand squeeze my knee. “I think I better go,” I said. I didn't want to start crying in front of him, and if I stayed here any longer, it'd happen for sure.

Toni scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Mark. “Dylan's cell,” she said. “You should call her.”

I stood up. “Do me a favor?”

He nodded.

“Don't call Mom and tell her I was here.”

“Fair enough.” He stood, and for a second I thought he might try to hug me, but then he took a step away and held out his hand. I shook it, not meeting his eyes. He had long fingers, like me, the little one slightly crooked. As Toni and I walked across the restaurant, I could feel his eyes on our backs, watching us leave.

e
IGHT
een

Mom was in bed when I got home. I tiptoed past her room, freezing mid-stride as her light flicked on. Crap.

“Dylan?”

“Yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine. I'm going to bed.”

“Come in here for a minute.”

Reluctantly, I slipped through her half-open door. “What is it?”

She patted her bed. “Just wanted to talk to you.”

I stepped closer but didn't sit down.

Mom was sitting up in bed, the covers pulled up to her waist. She was bare shouldered, wearing a faded green tank top, and her bird and lizard tattoos were splashes of bright color against the white sheets. “Dylan, what's wrong? Can't we talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about.” It sounded sharper and ruder than I'd meant it to.

“Are you nervous about your appointment? It's just a quick blood test.”

Thanks for reminding me. “Not really. Just, you know.”

“You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. I mean, no one is going to pressure you into…”

I snorted. “Right. Casey might die, but hey, no pressure.”

“Dylan.” She patted the bed again. “Come sit down.”

I perched on the edge of the bed.

“I know Mark showing up like this has been difficult—”

I interrupted her. “Actually, finding out that you've been lying to me my whole life has been difficult.”

After a long pause, she said, “I want you to do what is right for you.”

“As long as it means helping Casey?”

Mom reached out and touched my hair, brushing it away from my face. I didn't say anything. My throat was aching, and if I tried to talk, I was going to start bawling like a little kid.

“It'll all be okay,” she said. “I promise.”

“You can't promise that.” I pulled away. “You can't just make everything be okay. It doesn't work like that.”

She sighed and didn't answer for a minute. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded funny. “I know. I just wish it did.”

There was an empty wineglass on her bedside table. Drinking again. I looked at her more closely. Her eyes were puffy and pink-rimmed and her nose was shiny. “Mom? Have you been crying?”

“Scott and I sort of broke up. I'm taking a break from seeing him.”

“Oh.” I hadn't ever wanted her to be with him, so why did I have this heart-sinking achy feeling? “Are you… I mean, was that what you wanted?”

This time she took even longer to answer. “I don't think I really know what I want.”

I felt the ground shift beneath me. A flicker of sympathy—after all, I didn't know what I wanted either— and then a flood of anger. Why couldn't she just get it together and be reliable for once? With everything else that was going on, shouldn't I at least be able to count on my mother to be sane and solid and predictable?

“You're almost,” I said. The words were stiff and bitter in my mouth. “Isn't it about time you figured that out?”

She flinched. “Dylan.”

I didn't wait to hear what she was going to say. I could hear her saying my name a second time, but I just walked down the hall and went to bed.

The next morning, Mom was all fake-cheerful, as if she had made a decision to put last night's conversation behind her.
Tomorrow is a new day,
she always said. I thought it was the stupidest saying ever. Everything that had happened in the past just followed you into the future. One day followed another, and there was nothing really new about any of them.

“Have some breakfast.” Mom was still wearing her green tank top and boxer shorts, and her hair was all messed up from being slept on.

“I'm not really hungry.”

Her pseudo-smile started to slip. “Fine. I'll have to drop you off at school right after the appointment though. I'm meeting Julia.”