Destination Connelly (25 page)

C
onn

“
H
ey
, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” I lie. I’ve been sitting at the end of Nora’s street for almost fifteen minutes. I’m supposed to be there in five for my first outing with Hazel. I’m nervous as hell and need some encouragement. With the exception of Nora, I have always been confident, but I find I’m having the same insecurities now about my daughter. What is it about the Cantres women that makes me question myself?

“Isn’t tonight the first night with your daughter?” my twin prods.

“Yes.”

“What do you have planned?”

Because I didn’t want to ask Nora, making it appear as though I didn’t have a fucking clue what I was doing—which I don’t—I talked to Ella instead. Like she has so much more expertise than I do, but she also knows my daughter so I thought she’d be a solid second source.

She suggested taking Hazel to Millennium Park, so that’s what I’m going to do. After we walk around, I’ll grab us a bite to eat. Then we can picnic on the grassy lawn. It’s a beautiful fall day and with a sweater, hopefully she’ll be fine. Maybe I should make her bring her winter coat, just in case.

“Millennium Park.”

“That should be fun.”

“Yeah.”

“One-word answers.” Asher pauses. “It’s going to be fine, Conn. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” I reply softly,
hating
the fact I’m this unsure about myself. Hazel was a ball of excitement after Nora and I talked to her a few days ago. She spent an hour going through all of her artwork and another hour showing me her photographs. Ella was right. She’s incredibly talented. And grounded. And mature. And funny. She’s incredible, period.

“Do you want Alyse and me to meet you?”

“No. Nora and I agreed that it just be us for a few weeks until Hazel acclimates. She seems to be handling it well, but we just don’t want to push things and overwhelm her.”

“Makes sense.” Another pause. “You know, out of any of us brothers, I always thought you’d make the best father.”

Snorting in disbelief, I ask, “Why?” I’m not sure how he could think that when I didn’t even think I wanted kids until days ago.

“Because you’re the closest in personality to Dad. You inherited his patience and level head. He did his best teaching by being a great role model and that’s you, Conn. You’re going to fuck up, because I’m sure being a parent is hard, but we reaped the benefits of great parents, so some of that had to rub off on you. Hell, I’m hoping it rubbed off on me.”

And this right here is why I called my twin. He always makes me feel better.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“There’s no maybe about it. I’m just thrilled that you’ll be doing all the learning before me. That way you can give me tips and keep me from making the same mistakes.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure I’ll fuck up plenty.”

“I’m sure you will, too. But that doesn’t mean you won’t be a good dad, Conn. It just means your kids will learn how to apologize.”

If there was one thing our father was good at, it was acknowledging when he’d screwed up. Our father was the best role model a kid could ask for. Both my parents were. I want to be that for Hazel. And I can tell how good of a mother Nora is. Even if she has kept my daughter from me all these years, there is no disputing her love for Hazel.

“Thanks, Ash.”

“Anytime. Now, stop dragging your feet and go spend time getting to know your daughter.”

I disconnect the call, start the car, and drive the short distance to Nora’s house feeling much better. The door flies open before I even reach it. Standing there with an ear-to-ear grin on her face is Hazel.

My God in heaven, she is magnificent.

Nora stands just a few feet behind her looking so fucking beautiful it kills me. I acknowledge her with a slight dip of my head, my heart speeding up for all sorts of different reasons. Anger. Lust. Punishment.
Love
. Her deceit is unimaginable, yet…yet I still need her. I fucking
need
her with an untamed wildness that seems to quadruple daily.

I’ve purposely stayed away from her for the past couple of weeks, except when we had to talk about business or Hazel. And there are always people around. If I get even a second alone with her, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep from stripping her raw and raining the worst pain she’s ever felt before lavishing the most intense pleasure she can handle over every square inch of her. I want to spank her ass until she has tears of remorse running down her face before I fuck her until we both pass out. I can’t reconcile the opposing things I want to do to her. I’ve never been so torn.

But I have to push all those emotions to the back of my mind right now and focus only on my daughter. I’m still too raw to deal with anything else.

“Hi, Daddy!” Hazel throws her arms around my waist, hugging me tight.

Suddenly I wonder why I was so nervous.

“You got your camera?” I ask, matching her smile. I’d sent Nora a text, asking her to make sure she brought it.

“Got it.” She holds up a nice, but inexpensive Nikon. I already know for Christmas I’ll be getting her the next step up. One complete with interchangeable lenses for better shooting. Hell, I won’t even wait until Christmas. I have ten Christmases to make up for. Birthday’s, too.

“You need a jacket, though. It could get chilly.”

“I’ll be fine in this.” She pulls at her light, long-sleeve rainbow sweater.

“Zel, take your jacket.” Nora hands her a yellow zip-up hoodie, which Hazel accepts with some reluctance.

“Ready?” I ask, holding out my hand for hers.

“Ready.” She grins, lacing her small fingers with mine.

My gaze sweeps up to Nora who looks as if she may start crying any second. I shove away the guilt that makes me feel. “I’ll have her home by eight-thirty.”

“Sounds good,” she says softly. “Have a good time, Ladybird.”

“I will,” Hazel shouts behind her as we make our way to my car.

“I like that you open my car door,” she announces after I settle in the driver’s seat and pull on my own safety belt.

“Well, any man worth his salt opens a car door for his lady. Remember that,” I wink.

She grins, easily accepting my first bit of fatherly advice. “I will.”

Huh
. I take a deep, relaxing breath as we back out of the driveway and head back toward the city. I may end up being okay at this father thing after all.

C
onn

W
e walk
over the lush grass of the pavilion. There are no performances tonight, but it’s a nice night in the city and there are plenty of people milling around. Many have their blankets spread out, having the same idea I did. Everyone knows these nice days will be winding down as fall’s crisp air is sucked down from the north. Pretty soon, the snow will be falling once again.

“This is sooooo cool,” Hazel murmurs.

“It is, isn’t it?” I’ve honestly never stopped to appreciate this area. But Hazel…she is in absolute awe. She’s not taken that camera from her eye since we set foot in Millennium Park. Right now, she has it pointed up and is snapping rapid-fire pictures of the stainless steel ribbons that crisscross over the 7,000-acre lawn and stand over a hundred feet above us. It’s incredible how they look as if they’re suspended.

So far, we’ve walked the gardens, watched the fountains, and strutted around the Bean, an iconic draw for both visitors and locals. The Bean is a Chicago landmark that’s shaped like an oval and made from highly polished steel. The twelve-foot arch on the base of the structure provides a nice area to walk under and its mirrored surface is a dream for photographers to capture great pictures of the reflection of downtown Chicago. Hazel spent fifteen minutes taking snapshots from different angles.

I’ve finally convinced her we need to eat, so we grab a couple of hot dogs and sodas from Park Grill and try to find “the perfect” spot to sit. I keep pointing out to plots of grass beneath us but nothing seems to satisfy her. I think she just wants to case the entire span of this huge lawn until she’s exhausted or her digital card is full. I hope that card fills up soon.

“How’s this spot?”

At last, she takes the plastic away from her face and grins. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

I start laughing. “Starved.”

She points to the tiny pile of dirt coating the grass right by my feet. “There’s an ant hill there.”

“Good point. We don’t want to have ants crawling on our food.”

“And we don’t want to kill them either. Did you know ants can lift twenty times their own body weight? If I was as strong as an ant I could pick up a car!”

I am in utter amazement of this girl.
My
girl. So much like her mother with trivial facts. “Wow. An impressive fact I did not know. Well if they’re that strong, couldn’t they just pick us up and move us if we sat on them?”

“Daaaaddy,” she chastises, hand on hip. Secretly loving my new title, I chuckle and grab her hand, taking a few steps ahead. Searching the grass, I see no sign of ants.

“Here?”

She carefully peruses the ground before deeming it acceptable. We spread the thin blanket I’ve been carrying and sit. I hand her a hot dog, which she quickly unwraps. When she takes a bite, she moans.

“Good?”

“I love hot dogs,” she says around a mouthful of bread and meat. “Do you?”

“Eh. I’m more of a fish guy.” Actually, I can’t stand hot dogs. They’re nothing but processed animal parts.

“I like fish, too.”

“I know.” I bop her on the nose. She giggles.

While we eat, we talk about school and moving. She says she loves it here, but misses her old nanny and friends. I tell her about my brothers and the fact she has two cousins with one on the way. That lights her up. She’s already begging to meet them. I tell her I’ll talk to her mother and work out a time soon. Then I talk about her grandma and tell her stories about her grandpa. She’s sad she won’t get to meet him. So am I. She asks me about my job and squeals when I tell her our company owns a plane. Unlike her mother, she likes to fly. After I tell her that her mom works for me, she just grins mischievously.

It’s light, easy conversation. She doesn’t ask hard questions and for that, I’m grateful because I don’t know how I’d answer them.

When we’re done eating, we lay back on the blanket, staring at the silvery structure above us. She grabs my hand, holds it tight. It reminds me of when I took Nora to the country club my parents belonged to for Memorial Day fireworks. We lay on the bank of Orchard Lake on a blanket similar to this one and held hands as colored lights exploded over our heads. Three days later, Hazel would be conceived.

Fuck.

My heart suddenly feels too heavy for my chest, but Hazel saves me from spiraling into despair without even knowing it.

“Daddy?”

I turn my head toward her. She does the same so now I’m staring into my own eyes, my own image. “Yeah, sweetie?”

“I’m glad we moved to Chicago,” she tells me.

I swallow the knot in my throat. To think that I almost didn’t get to meet this wonderful little beauty who is so much like me is uncanny. “Me, too, Hazel.”

Then she slams me with a doozie. Probably my first of many. “Do you love my mommy?”

Jesus. So much it’s fucking excruciating.
But how do I answer that loaded question without giving our daughter hope there’s a future for the three of us when I don’t know if there is? With everything else I’m feeling for Nora at the moment, without a doubt I love her just as much as I hate her, so I answer honestly, I guess.

“Very much, but sometimes love isn’t enough, Hazel.”

A soft smile turns her mouth up. “But sometimes it is,” she says with such maturity and wisdom it fucking astounds me. Then she turns her attention back to the sky, leaving me to replay what she said over and over and over.

As we lie quietly next to each other, I have to wonder if the very thing that drove us apart—
her
—could also be the very thing that pulls us back together. At this point, it’s a toss-up.

N
ora

“
H
ow’s everything going
?” my sister tentatively asks.

I’m not sure how she wants me to answer. There’s thick tension between Connelly and me. We’ve avoided each other as much as possible these past few weeks. Well, I should say he’s avoided me. He’s still very angry and hurt. Rightfully so. I wish we could talk and clear the air, but his body language is pretty clear.
Stay the fuck away
. Zel senses it, too. Every time we’re in the same room she tries to lighten the mood, bless her big heart.

The arrangement we have for sharing our daughter is working right now, but pretty soon I know it won’t be enough for Connelly. There are no overnights yet, no discussion of holiday sharing, and no plans about what we’ll do come summertime.

That’s
when I wonder what he’ll do, what sort of legal action he’ll take. I try to put myself in his place. I’m sure I’d want to do the same thing. Protect myself legally. I just hope when that time comes, it can be amicable. One day, he briefly mentioned child support, but I brushed him off. I told him if he wanted to buy Zel things, he certainly could, but that we’ve managed fine without his money all this time and don’t need it now. I could tell it angered him, but he let it go. At least for now. I know that won’t last.

“Honestly, I’m feeling like my future balances on the edge of an unevenly sharpened knife. I never know if the next step will slice me apart or grant me another reprieve,” I reply at last.

“I’m sorry, Nora. I know all of this is hard. For everyone. I want you to know I don’t judge you. And I’m not taking sides.”

Tears well. “Thanks, Mira.”

Last Saturday, when Connelly had Zel, Mira and I had lunch, which led into dinner, and I ended up having to rush home by eight o’clock to be sure I was here when Connelly dropped her off. I told Mira things only my mother knew. She listened, she supported. One of the pluses of moving here is that I finally feel as though I have a family again outside of Carl. I wish I’d had her as a confidant growing up.

“Have you…have you talked to him?” I hate asking but I’m dying to know.

At the other end of the line, I hear her take a swallow of something before answering. “Just once. He called and asked where he should take Hazel for their first outing.”

Ouch. That pricks.

“I think he’s been avoiding me. Probably the whole sister thing and all.”

“I’m sorry. I know you two are close.” I’m insanely jealous, but I’d never tell Mira she couldn’t be friends with Connelly. Besides, you don’t
tell
Mira anything. She’d do whatever you told her not to just to spite you anyway.

“Nah. He’ll come around. He just needs some time, Nora. It was a big shock. Let him absorb it for a bit, okay?”

“I know.” I swallow my tears. “God, Mira, I miss him so much. I know we weren’t back together very long, but I felt whole like I never had and I…I just miss him so damn much. I miss the way he looked at me with so much heat and love and devotion. I feel lost. I feel like I’ll never have that again and I know I don’t deserve it, but I still want it.”

“Have you tried to talk to him? Tell him how you’re feeling?”

“No,” I sniffle, dabbing my eyes with a tissue. “I’m trying to give him some space.”

My phone beeps indicating I have an incoming call.

Carl.

“Hey, I gotta go. I’ll call you later this week to work out a time to take Hazel.”

“Can’t wait. I love that little girl. Call me if you need me. Anytime.”

“Will do. Thanks, Mira. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I click over to answer Carl’s call just in time.

“Hey,” I say, stretching my sweater tighter against the wind that’s picked up. It’s definitely fall in the heartland. I take a quick look through the glass patio doors into the kitchen and note that Zel will be home within the half hour from her night with Connelly. Tonight, she had quite a bit of math homework to do, so Connelly’s getting exposed to all parts of parenting. Math is not Hazel’s strong suit, hence her tutor.

“Hey, Ladybug. How are you?”

On the edge of despair trying not to look down.

“I’m good,” I reply on autopilot, but he must hear the tears in my voice.

“Nora. What’s the matter, sweetheart? Everything going okay at Wynn?”

This is one conversation I’ve avoided for the past three weeks. I know I need to tell Carl about Connelly, about our past, about the fact he’s Hazel’s father. I also know it won’t be an easy one because it will hurt him that I’ve not confided in him before this. The biggest reason, though, is that I just don’t want him to be disappointed in me.

“Nora? Do you need me to get on a plane? Beat the shit out of someone?”

My laugh is watery. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Damn straight I would. I’ll ruin anyone who has hurt my girl.” He laughs. I don’t. I’m afraid in this case, I’m the one who’s done all the hurting.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

“Sounds big.”

I swear if I hadn’t heard loving encouragement in his tone, I would have chickened out. Again. But it’s exactly what I need in order to tell the only other man I love what I’ve done.

“It is,” I whisper.

Then I fill my lungs with bravery and begin.