Page 41 of Moonlit Kisses

He stops what he’s doing, and I lock the outer door for now, since I won’t be in the office. Max steps into the office to meet us. “Hey, Martin. Thanks for coming out quickly. We appreciate it.” They shake hands.

“No problem.” Martin looks across at me. “I didn’t want to leave you without hot water.”

His concern for me seems a bit much considering we don’t know each other. I’m glad Max insisted on being present while Martin’s looking at the wiring. The three of us head upstairs to my small apartment. Max and I point across the room to show Martin where the bathroom is. I make it to the bathroom, assuming the guys are following me, but when I turn to speak to Martin, he’s nowhere to be found.

Poking my head through the doorway, I find Martin staring at the family photo I have displayed on the wall in the living room. He’s standing so close to the image I’m surprised he can see anything at all. His face has gone as white as the paint on the wall.

Max is standing behind him, his arm crossed over his chest, his thumbnail running across his plump bottom lip as he watches Martin closely. I’m puzzled about what could be so interesting in the photo.

“Are you okay, Martin? You look … pale.”

He turns toward me, then glances back at the photo. “Nicole.” He looks back at me, then points at the photo. “That woman is my Nicole.”

Max looks between the photo, Martin, and me. His confusion matches mine. “Who’s Nicole?”

“Nicole is my mom,” I answer Max, then walk toward Martin. “What do you mean, ‘your Nicole’?” Martin opens his mouth and closes it again. Looks at me and then back to the photo.

“What the fuck is going on, Martin? You’re acting fucking weird,” Max snaps.

He looks between Max and me. “I knew you reminded me of someone. You look a lot like her, but I convinced myself I had to be wrong.”

Max comes to stand beside me, offering his silent support without touching me. My gut’s churning and I’m afraid to hear what Martin’s about to say.

He takes one step closer to me, his posture softening. “I dated your mother in high school.” He covers his mouth and turns away from me. His hand moves up to cover his eyes and a shudder wracks his body.

I step toward him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. I’m guessing he just made the connection that his old high school flame has passed away. I rub my hand up and down his back, attempting to offer him some form of comfort. Tears well in my eyes and I blink to hold them back. He doesn’t need me to fall apart as he works through his grief. Even though it would have been a long time since he saw her, I guess it would be a shock to learn what he’s discovered today.

His familiarity with me makes sense now. Idolook a lot like Mom.

He takes in a deep breath and wipes away the tears from his eyes. “I was telling Beth how you reminded me of Nicole, but she didn’t believe me until she met you on Saturday. Beth was one of your mom’s friends in high school. We all used to hang out together. She’s going to be devastated when I tell her this.”

His body stiffens and he moves back to the photo. “So, uh, did Nicole have another child?” His hand shakily comes up to his mouth as he glances at me.

“Yeah.” I move to stand next to Martin, pointing at Ethan. “My younger brother, Ethan.” I point to Jack. “That’s his dad, Jack.”

Martin nods slowly. “Anyone older than you?”

I shake my head. “Nope. I’m the oldest. She had me when she was eighteen.” I wonder if Martin knew my dad?

The little color that had returned to his face, drains. He covers his mouth again as he staggers backward and drops onto my couch. His elbows rest on his knees and he drops his head, capturing it in his hands. He’s clearly upset about something. He speaks without looking up. “I … uh … I was dating Nicole when she got pregnant.” His head lifts and his steely colored eyes lock onto mine. “She was seventeen, I was nineteen. We’d been together for nearly three years.”

All the air is sucked out of the room and a haze forms around the edges of my vision. The rush of blood in my ears is deafening as my legs collapse out from under me. I don’t hit the floor as I expect, instead strong arms scoop me up, but I can’t make sense of what’s happening around me. I’m under water, moving through sludge, everything going in slow motion. My body connects with my soft mattress, and I can make out static mumbling, but can’t decipher the words.

The mind is a tricky thing. It shuts down as a form of protection. It did it to me when the police officers knocked on my door to break the news about my family’s accident. This is different, though. Instead of shutting down, it’s like my mind is running on overdrive but is blank at the same time. It doesn’t know what to process first. The whirling thoughts are moving faster and faster, and I can’t make sense of anything.

Mom left here because she had no support when she found out she was pregnant.

Her father wanted her to have an abortion.

My father disappeared.

My grandmother didn’t support Mom one way or the other.

She was alone, facing an unknown future.

Martin may not be my father. Maybe she was seeing someone else, and that’s why he abandoned her.

I curl into a ball and pull the bedcovers over my head. I want to go to sleep and when I wake up; I want everything to make sense again because none of this is making sense for me at the moment. And I really need for things to make sense.

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