Page 80 of Pippin & Nacho

“S-so you gave me up?”

His dark eyes looked at me, so full of pain and guilt, forcing me to glance away. I didn’t want to understand how much he hurt. He still let me go.

“Not at first. I took you back home with me after Inny had died. God, your mama had left us, and I was so clueless about how to raise an infant on my own. I needed to work and go to high school, barely scraping any money together with no help from anyone. I got this shitty month-to-month apartment that didn’t care about my age. I lived right here in Baltimore, and I did my best, but… I was only a kid myself, Nate. Maybe things would’ve been different had Inny lived. If I dropped out of school, I’d never get a decent-paying job to even pay for daycare, which was so expensive and more than what I’d earned, and I could barely afford the formula to feed you.”

His tears spilled freely, uncaring as he stared into his cold coffee. Mine did, too. Sam had quit eating and simply held me with his protective arm around my shoulders. I didn’t know what to say. It all fucking hurt. Maybe I would’ve been better off never knowing. But perhaps I could finally find some closure. Even worse? I didn’t hate him for it when I wanted to. Anger would’ve been better than the anguish I felt.

“I gave up my rights to you in hopes you’d find parents who could raise you better and give you all that you needed to thrive. Those parents could give you a home, a yard to play in, maybe a fucking dog… All the things I couldn’t. I couldn’t even take care of myself. I was grieving, and you were always crying… yeah, infants cry and are hungry all the time, but I knew you were missing your mama. You had to be. You’d been a part of her for eight months, hearing her laugh, talk, and sing to you.”

Isaiah wiped his face again and abruptly stood, nearly spilling his coffee. “I… I need some air.” He dropped a twenty and a ten-dollar bill on the table before walking off.

Sam removed an earbud. “What just happened?”

“He’s upset. Fuck. Do I go after him? Let him go?”

I wanted to chase him. Maybe I didn’t want that closure after all, but to start on a new road. Isaiah was the only parent I’d ever had, despite never being in my life except when I was an infant. He clearly struggled with this, and his regret and pain were evident in his words, his face, and his tears.

“That’s up to you.”

“Shit… Okay. I’m going. Do you want to come with me or do you want to stay? It’s fine either way.”

“I’ll finish eating and box up your lunch. Get some alone time with your dad. I’ll be out shortly.”

I stood and quickly kissed Sam before running after Isaiah. I’d half expected to chase him down the street, but he was out front, leaning against the building and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands before pulling out a pack of smokes and lighting up.

“Did your life ever improve?” I asked.

Everything hinged on his answer. What he said here on out would determine whether I would continue to speak with him and get to know him or abandon him, too.

“What?”

“Did things get better after me?”

“I, ah, graduated high school and went on to community college. I work as an electrician. It pays the bills, but I’m not rich by any means.”

“So, you could’ve gotten me back later?”

His broad shoulders sagged, and he shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. I forfeited my rights as a parent. The system doesn’t take too kindly to abandonment, even if it had been necessary or out of desperation. They wouldn’t have given you back to me. They made that abundantly clear. About ten years ago, I started asking around, but everyone told me to forget it, that I didn’t stand a chance.”

With a deep sigh, he turned to face me, leaning his shoulder against the building. “I attempted to look for you anyway when you were eighteen, but there was no trace. I figured I could find you on the internet somehow. There was nothing. I took it as a sign that I didn’t deserve to find you. You probably wouldn’t have wanted me in your life, anyway. So, I just gave up. I never did remarry or have more kids, feeling like I didn’t deserve them.”

My father actually tried to look for me. That meant something.

He took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke. “I can’t tell you I would do things differently, Nate. I was really struggling, but the hardest decision I’d ever made in my life was handing you off to someone else with barely a smidgen of hope that you were better off. Not only did I lose your mother, but I lost you.”

“No one ever wanted me. No new parents or a dog.” I didn’t tell him to make him feel worse, but he needed to understand that it hadn’t been easy for me. It was clear that no matter what had been decided, I would’ve struggled. But I would’ve had a parent had he not given me up. Yet I would never have found Sam. It was difficult to wrap my head around.

“Dammit… I thought people wanted infants, and you were such a beautiful baby. I’m so fucking sorry, Nate… for everything. I’m not asking you to forgive me. Hell, I barely forgive myself, but…” He took another drag of his cigarette and blew out a long stream of smoke. “Now that I’ve met you finally, I just wondered…”

With a deep breath, I exhaled. “Okay.”

His eyes grew wide. “Okay?”

“Yeah, we can get to know each other.”

Another tear slipped down his face, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “Thank you,” he whispered.

He dug in the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. Inside was a worn photo, and he handed it to me. “That’s your mother. You can have it, if you want. She loved you and wanted you, Nate. We both did.”

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