Page 15 of The Sun to Me

“If he’s mine, I won’t do it.” Michael shook his head. He had never known his father. He didn’t want Jace to go through the same thing. Marilyn was a lot like his mother – loved sex, was promiscuous, and used drugs. She might’ve been clean now, but she wasn’t before he went to prison. Neither of them was.

“I’ll take you to court.”

“On what grounds?”

“Custody. You’re a felon. The court will see that and give me full custody.”

“A paroled felon who attends AA meetings and now has gainful employment. The court will see I’m trying and give me a chance. I won’t ever sign my rights away.” He raked his hand through his hair. “We need to get the DNA test done so we know.”

“You don’t even know how to be a dad.” Marilyn giggled. “You don’t even know who your dad is. Some guy who paid your mom ten bucks in the backseat of a car. Why don’t you just fuck around and goof off? We both know you’re gonna end up right behind bars anyway. Don’t waste everyone’s time. Don’t get Jace’s hopes up.”

Michael balled his fists again. Marilyn knew more about him than anyone. He had shared so much with her. And now she was using it as a weapon against him. “I’ll make the appointment. I can see you have no desire to do it.”

“Desire? Oh, I have desire baby. I have desire to get you right between my thighs again. I remember how you like it. Ass play and all.”

“Stop, Marilyn. I’ll never be with you that way again. The only reason I’ll ever have anything to do with you is Jace if he turns out to be mine.”

“Oh, he’s yours. Make the appointment. I’ll get Jace there. And then you’re gonna sign all your rights away and we’ll be done. Except for those late-night booty calls I know you’re gonna want from me. Sex with no strings. Dirty foreplay… I’m wet just thinking about how good you are at pleasuring me.” She arched her back, accentuating her breasts in the tank top.

“You have more strings than a baseball. I’ll be in touch about the appointment. Now get out of here. The next time I wanna see you is in the clinic waiting room.” He went back up the steps, slamming the door behind him before she had a chance to respond.

Despite the ill-will between them, he felt the arousal in his pants against his boxers. She always had that way with him. Her lies by omission and her devious ways were still not enough to keep him from the lust he was feeling.

He needed a cold shower. She wasn’t good for him. She was married. And most importantly, she was going to be his relapse if he allowed it. Sobriety and freedom were front and center, followed closely by the possibility of Jace being his child. Too much at once – he had to stop the roller coaster from spinning out of control. One day at a time. One second at a time if he needed it.

Opening the refrigerator, he eyed the maroon beer bottles on the bottom shelf. His mouth watered. How long had it been? Prison hooch was one thing… but an iced cold beer would soothe his frayed nerves. One beer. Yeah right. One beer would turn into every one of them being drunk. And then he’d be piss tested and sent back. Just like Marilyn, he had to tell it no, and he slammed the door shut and pushed away from the kitchen.

The lady at AA mentioned a sponsor – now was the time he figured he needed one. Talk him from the ledge. Tell him it won’t solve a thing. Get him back on track and away from the toxicity of Marilyn and all the bad things she had to offer.

“This is an intake appointment.” The counselor looked up from his notepad and typed a few things on the computer. Michael shifted in his seat, already feeling judged as the older man looked at him. “So, you have to report to a parole officer, attend AA and NA meetings, and see a counselor?” He clicked his tongue as he typed.

“Yes.”

“That seems like a lot. They should be good with you merging the AA and NA meetings because it’s all the same topic.”

Michael nodded. “Agreed.”

“But the state wants what the state wants, and I’m not in a position to question in it.”

“But you are.” Michael straightened his posture. “You’re a mental health professional, right? They would accept your professional opinion, wouldn’t they?”

“Yes and no. Someone assigned to your case, whether it was at the prison or elsewhere sees a need. I need to figure out what it is and go from there. So, we will proceed with sessions. If I see you’re doing great and responding to therapy, I can recommend we shorten your visits. Of course, after your year of parole is up, you can do what you want. It could take that long, or maybe just a month or two. Mental health is hard to predict.”

“Mental health,” Michael replied. “My mental health is fine. I went to prison for something I did. I did the time. I’m going to finish up my last year outside the razor wire. I would think reporting to my babysitter…” He raked his hand through his hair. “I mean, my parole officer and going to AA meetings would be enough. I don’t have a mental health problem.”

The counselor wrote a few more things down. “All of us at some point in our lives have a mental health problem.” He made air quotations with his fingers. “This is your intake appointment. I need your basic information and a little of your backstory. Then, in a week, at your next appointment, we will dig into some things. I can get a really good idea then.”

Michael sat back in the chair, bouncing his leg. He told himself to stop – everything he did was being analyzed. Too much movement? ADHD diagnosis. Not wanting to talk? Depression. He didn’t want to fake this… maybe he could use the help, but this all felt like overkill.

“Employment?”

“The mechanic shop on Main Street.”

“Are you a certified mechanic?”

“Not technically. Enough to have gainful employment, I guess.”

“When did you start there?”

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