Page 67 of Touch in the Dark

We end the call and I drop the phone to my side and stare off into space. This shouldn’t affect me or my feelings towards Nick. Without wanting to admit I’m curious, I do a quick internet search on him. He never really talked about his family when we were together. Not that I did either, he knows about my parents’ divorce, that my mom remarried, and dad is now in a relationship with a man. He never met them though.

There is no further information than what I already know about his upbringing. The rest of the band are fiercely protective of their family and try to keep them out of the public eye.

It's none of my business. And I cannot let this new knowledge affect me. Although I can’t help but remember how he held Doris’s hand, how he fought his emotions in that moment just before she opened her eyes and saw him there.

Whether he took that woman home or not, the intention was there, and we were together.

I can’t allow myself to forget that.

Chapter Sixteen

The last two days have been spent going from the facility where Doris has moved in and her apartment, making sure it is safe for her when she gets back. I’ve spent a fortune making sure everything is accessible, installed everything on offer to make the place safer, right down to remodelling her kitchen. She will kick my ass because I’ve used a company that specialises in adapting homes for disabled people, or those in wheelchairs. But when it comes to her health and her safety, I’m not going to be deterred. I am not taking any more chances. If I could move her over to Manhattan, nearer to me, I would. That would be a step too far in Doris’s eyes. She still needs her independence. But she can’t argue with me on this. I won’t let her.

I’ve just finished getting all of her kitchenware back into the new low cupboards, and head into the living room with a bottle of water and some chips. I’ve been here most of the day and neglected to eat. Far too busy making sure everything is just right. I sit down and put my feet up, knowing Doris would make me take them off but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

My phone lights up as I settle in with an exhausted exhale. It’s a message from Louis at Instinct. I pick it up and flick in to read it. I’d put off my commercial shoot yesterday, telling her I had a family emergency, which she was fine about but they are going to need me there tomorrow because they only have the studio for two more days. Her message is just checking I’m able to go. I reply straight away because I don’t want to let anyone down, letting her know I’ll be there.

Part of me wishes I’d ended this with the photoshoot, because I know Elsa is going to be there and after the other day, things are a little awkward now. I could have ripped Jordan’s head off when he invited her in. Everyone was having a great time while she was there, everyone except me. Mostly because I’d remembered how cool she is, watching her hang out with my friends, plus how she’d been there for me when I’d completely lost my shit on the way to the hospital. I’d really fucked up where Elsa is concerned. I’d never let her see how I felt though, in fact, I’d come on a bit strong right before she left. I’d been a cocky asshole when she blushed after I kissed her cheek.

I’m not going back to see Doris again today, but I also don’t particularly want to be around people, and Archer has invited his brothers over to watch a game. I’m glad he’s getting close with them again. The break is really helping him. But I’m not in the mood to be social. So much so, I switch off my phone. After finishing my water and chips while watching some mindless TV court show, I get up to use the bathroom. On the way back, I pass the spare bedroom. There is a bed in there for whenever Doris has guests, but it’s mostly used as storage. Usually, it’s clean and tidy and I’ve never really had reason to go in there, but I notice a few boxes on the floor as I pass by. I go in to straighten them up and close the blinds as it’s getting darker. As I lift one of the boxes, I spot a photograph of my mom. It momentarily stuns me. It’s been so long since I’ve looked at pictures of her.

On the wall in our apartment, I have just one portrait of her. It is a side on shot where she is looking out over the ocean. We were on vacation at Jones Beach with Doris, I must have been about twelve at the time. It was one of the best vacations I’ve ever had because I had my very own Nikon camera that mom got me for Christmas the year before. I took that photo and mom loved it so much, she’d put it up in our house. So, no matter where I lived, that picture came with me. But this photo is face forward and she’s smiling so huge.

I set the box down and open up the lid. There are lots of folders and a few smaller boxes inside. It looks like the photograph has spilled from a box of them. I lift it out and sit down on the bed. Taking out the rest of the pictures, I flick through them, a small smile gracing my lips as I see these old memories brought to life. Our first Christmas in the new house in White Plains where we had barely any furniture, so Doris had brought around these huge beanbags she got in a thrift store. We lived like that for about three weeks, because mom wouldn’t go stay with Doris at her place when we had finally got our own house after living in an apartment for so long.

I laugh out loud when I get to a photograph of the band. Jesus we were so young, all gangly arms and legs and serious faces as we put together what had originally been called the Smashing Fists. We all look so stern with our instruments in Adam’s parents’ garage. Then as we got bigger, we moved to our place because we had more room.

I find one of me and mom with Jordan, he’s standing on something behind her with his drumsticks up in the air and his mouth wide open, like he’s screaming something. My head is tipped back to look at him and mom has her arm wrapped around me, the cheesiest grin on her face. That was about a year before she was diagnosed. When she was healthy and beautiful and so full of life.

“Fuck,” I mutter, setting the pictures aside as a well of emotions rises up inside me.

Beneath that box is another one, with older photographs, pictures of when mom was young, with Doris and Jackson, my grandfather. I flick through a few more then put them back into the box. When Doris comes home, I’ll ask if I can take some of them. I won’t do it without asking first. I glance at the cupboard that is built into an alcove in the wall, which must be where Doris keeps these boxes. I’m not sure why they’re out but I’ll tidy up for her. I stand and grab the box but don’t get hold of it properly and one of the corner flaps tears, making me lose my grip on it and the whole thing falls, the contents spill out onto the floor.

Just my fucking luck, I stare at all the papers and photographs spread out and all messed up. Crap, Doris is going to lose her shit, she’s very neat and orderly, everything in its place. I crouch down and start pulling it all into a pile, gathering up the photographs first because I at least know where they’re supposed to be. As I’m sorting them, I notice a picture of mom with a man I don’t recognise.

My heart pounds as I reach for it. Mom is smiling as she holds onto the arm the man has across her middle. He’s got her pulled up tight against him. I can’t make out where they are in the picture, but the guy looks to be a lot older than her, mom is a teenager, this guy looks closer to late twenties or even my age, his hair greying slightly. They’re quite clearly in an embrace, not just posing for a photograph. I drop down on my ass and stare at it for a long time.

I thought I had a look of my grandfather, but this guy…. He’s my doppelganger. I reach for the other photographs and start searching through them, looking for any more of him, but I don’t find anything. Then I notice the papers are all legal documents, important papers Doris has kept together. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I start pulling them apart, trying to find something that might explain who this guy is. Did Doris get this box out to look at because I’d mentioned my father?

After searching and reading through more papers I finally come across my birth certificate. Doris told me it was lost in one of our moves when I was little. We’d bounced around a few apartments in New York and even Chicago for a while until we settled in White Plains to be closer to my grandparents. I zero in on the parents’ names without hesitation.

Cora Leanne Chambers is listed as the mother, my eyes move straight to the father’s name. Derrick Atwater. I’ve never heard of him. Never heard mom or my grandparents mention the name before. Is that who this guy in the photograph is? I can’t go to Doris and ask because I know how upset she gets when I ask about him. But now I have a name, and a face. I don’t need to ask her for anything else. I don’t need to upset her. Sitting back down amongst all the papers, I lean back against the bed and stare through the window.

I hadn’t gotten around to closing the blinds before my trip down memory lane. The stars are out full force. It’s one of the things I love about being back here, sometimes the stars are so clear it’s like looking at a picture. In L.A. it was a struggle to see anything beyond the smog in the night sky.

I look back at the photograph. I have his eyes, the ice blue is so unique, there is no way this guy is anyone other than my father. So where is he? What is the big secret about his identity? Is it because he looks a lot older than my mom? Did my grandparents not approve of him? Why would no one ever answer my questions when it’s clear from this picture that they were, at one point in time, happy?

I’m not sure how long I sit in amongst all the papers lost in all kinds of crazy thoughts about this man, before I realise how late it’s gotten, and I need to go. I tidy up as best I can and leave the boxes where I found them. I don’t want Doris to know what I’ve stumbled across, but I take the picture, and my birth certificate and carefully fold them up in my pocket. After making sure everything is where it is supposed to be, I head out and down to my car.

My head is awash with all kinds of things as I drive back across the bridge. I need to talk to someone about this but at the same time, until I have answers, I’m not sure I want to put this out there. I genuinely don’t know what to make of it.

I know my father’s name.

Archer’s brothers are still here when I arrive home. I greet them well enough but beg off staying up for a drink, explaining I have to be in Jersey early in the morning. Which I do. And as much as I want to blow that off, I can’t let Louis down. Archer watches me as I wish them goodnight and I wonder if he can see through me and know I’ve found something I’ve spent most of my life wondering about. Not that that is even possible. No one would ever consider that, but I suspect he thinks there is something wrong. Then I realise he’s halfway to drunk and he calls me a pussy for going to bed like a grandpa, then goes back to his brothers. I can take that if it means he hasn’t read anything into my expression.

I set the documents in the top drawer of my dresser, then get a quick shower, one so I’m ready to go in the morning and two because I feel as if I need to wash away… something. Though I’m not sure what. I don’t actually need to look at the picture again because his face is seared into my brain.

Derrick Atwater. God, is he even still alive? Christ, he wasn’t that old in the pictures. He’s in his mid-sixties at the most, not exactly ancient, but also not far off my grandparents age either. Although my mom died young, who’s to say this guy didn’t. That thought sends my mind spiralling again. I can’t have got this far in finding out my father’s identity only to learn he’s dead.

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