Wicked Little Lies- Molly Page 14
“Never mind,” snapped Matt, his ears glowing under the floodlights. “I think it’s time to take you home.”
“But my car’s at Danny’s,” I complained as he grabbed my hand, suggesting that I follow him.
“We’ll get it in the morning.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I don’t think you need quite that much hair gel,” I suggested, moving in next to Matt ready to clean my teeth.
He fiddled with the tube as the liquid shot from the end of it, hitting the mirror, then slowing oozing its way towards the countertop.
I sighed.
“I’m sorry. I’m just really nervous.” He grabbed the towel and attempted to clean up his mess.
“Fair enough. It’s not every day you get to meet your father.”
Matt took a deep breath and grinned. “Yeah. Can you believe it?”
Not really. When he had told me what he’d been through to find Darryl, I’d been astounded.
First, he’d checked the census records and found Darryl had lived in Westport the last time the population was counted. However, when Matt had visited his last known address Darryl had moved on. And the neighbors weren’t helpful about where he moved to as they believed Darryl moved a lot. Matt then tracked down one of Darryl’s old workmates. He’d agreed to meet over a beer and tell him everything he knew. Only when the day arrived, the workmate had been struck down, and I mean literally. He’d been hit by a car and was now in hospital with his jaw wired shut. Not one to give up, Matt checked the electoral roll, but Darryl no longer lived at the address he was registered at and the woman living there told Matt if she ever saw the bastard again, she’d kill him. Her words, not Matt’s.
“Thank goodness for coincidences,” I replied, squishing toothpaste onto my brush.
“I don’t believe in coincidence.”
“Then what do you call it? Fate? Destiny? Something made you decide to donate blood that day instead of going to the gym. If you’d stuck to your original plan you would have missed him.”
Matt grinned. “It was luck. If that nurse hadn’t called his name as I was walking out the door, I would have walked right past him without paying him any attention.”
“Was he shocked when you introduced yourself?”
Color raced up Matt’s neck only stopping as it reached his ears.
“You did tell him who you were?” I questioned.
“Of course.”
“Matt, there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. I just didn’t want to blurt to him in the blood donation caravan that I was his long-lost child.”
“So, what did you tell him?”
“That I wanted to interview him for a story on genealogy.”
“Oh. Well I’m glad I found out now. I would have hated to have spouted that out without knowing.”
“I thought we could meet him for coffee this morning and get to know each other before I told him who I was. I don’t want to shock him.”
“Do you think he knows anything about you? Did he know that your mum was pregnant with you before he left her?”
“She left him before I was born. She always told me he never wanted to be a father, so I took that as he knew she was having his child but didn’t want to be a part of it.”
“Matt, you’ll be okay if he still feels the same?” I was worried about it. Matt had worked himself up so much in anticipation for properly meeting Darryl that I was worried about him if it all fell apart.
“Of course, I am. Molly, I have nothing to lose. If he wants to know me then great. If not, so be it. I have you and I have our baby. Plus your family, which is now my family. Honestly, they’re more than I could ever need.”
I grinned as his lips touched mine and indulged in a kiss far too deep for a woman who hadn’t yet cleaned her teeth.
Pulling up for air, Matt squeezed me tight and then made his way towards the walk-in wardrobe looking for clothes.
He may be saying all the right things but watching as he whistled while slipping his shirt on, I doubted he was being completely honest with himself. He’d spent his entire life dreaming about his dad and who he would be. He’d played the scene of their meeting in his head a million times over the years and I was worried Darryl wouldn’t match the fantasy figure Matt built him to be. I mean, who could? Sure, Matt knew his father hadn’t been ready to have a child, but he also knew it was his mother who left searching for something better. That meant Matt was free to imagine all kinds of fantasies, some of which he’d whispered to me in the middle of the night, right after he’d had a nightmare about never finding his dad.
To say I was nervous about this meeting was an understatement. Add to that I was secretly hoping Darryl wasn’t his father and this was all one being mistake, and the anxiety I was feeling threatened to drown me.
****
Darryl wanted to be interviewed on common ground, so the Bar and Grill was the place that was agreed upon. Not exactly where I would have had my family reunion, but this wasn’t my rodeo.
The Bar and Grill was downtown, had an upbeat vibe and served the best steak around. The décor was industrial—all metal and hard edges, and as Matt held the door open for me the welcome blast of air conditioning hit me hard.
Stepping under his arm, I made my way inside, lifting my sunglasses and blinking my eyes to adjust to the darkened room. The distant sound of the poker machines dinged and competed with the smell of beer for air space.
“He said he’d meet us at the bar,” explained Matt, allowing the door to close behind him. For all his bravery, vulnerability screamed from his every pore, melting my heart. I made a promise to myself Darryl better not hurt him, because if he did...well, I’d think of something awful to wish on him.
The armpits of Matt’s button up shirt betrayed his nerves as he held my hand tighter and led the way across the room. My Jimmy Choos (because it was a Jimmy kind of day) clicking against the cement flooring as I jogged to keep up with him.
I had no idea what Darryl looked like, but as a man with messy blonde hair streaked with grey, lifted his beer to his lips, I knew he was the one. And any fantasy I’d had of this all being one big mistake flew straight out the window.
Darryl looked exactly how I thought Matt would in another twenty years’ time. His body was lean, his biceps probably a product of manual labor. His long legs stretched out from the stool he was perched on, and his deep brown eyes smiled at something the bartender had said. I just hoped he was as nice as he looked.
Matt’s paced increased, closing the gap between us quickly. He had his hand stretched out in front of him and a smile on his face even before we got within talking distance.
“Darryl,” he almost sang. “So glad you could make it.” Relief swept through his shaky laugh, but only someone who knew him well would have noticed the slight tremble of his hand.
Darryl placed his glass on the bar top and stood. Accepting Matt’s gesture, he pumped his hand enthusiastically before turning his smile to me.
“Not a problem. It’s not every day a local celebrity wants to interview me.”
Matt gulped but held my shoulder and encouraged me to step forward. “Ummm, this is my girlfriend Molly. Molly Fuller.” Matt’s eyes were sharp as he said my last name, and I figured he wanted to see Darryl’s reaction. If he’d had one that was.
Judging by that, Grannie Carol was right on when she’d said his adopted parents had honored their agreement and kept her name out of his life.
“Pleased to meet you, Molly.”
I smiled and gave a little wave.
“I didn’t know where you wanted to sit,” Darryl said, turning to look around the busy room.
“Maybe somewhere near the back. It looks quieter.” And more private, but I didn’t add that.
“Molly, why don’t you and Darryl get seated and I’ll grab us all a drink? What would you like?” he asked Darryl. He didn’t need to ask me. He could recite my order in his
sleep.
“A beer thanks but make it a light. I have to drive home and don’t need another DUI charge.” He grinned.
Discreetly checking the time on the clock behind the bar, I noted it was only ten thirty and he was already on the alcohol. Uh oh. Maybe he wasn’t like Matt after all.
I led the way to a table I thought was appropriate as Darryl followed behind me making idle chit chat.
“I’ve never been interviewed before. Unless you count by the police.” He laughed.
“Have you done that many times?” I asked as I slid into one of the booths.
“A couple. I’m not proud of it, but it’s who I am so no point in hiding it, right?”
I liked that he owned who he was.
“We are who we are,” I responded, philosophically.
“Matt seems like a nice guy.” Darryl took a seat opposite me.
“He is. He’s really smart and genuine and funny. He’s caring and even though he puts on a brave front, he’s soft and squishy inside.”
Darryl laughed. “You sound like you’re setting him up on a date.” He froze and his eyes widened. “You’re not, are you? This isn’t some kind of sex triangle where you pick up strangers to have your way with, is it? I mean, I wouldn’t say no to you, but Matt’s not really my type.”
Oh geez. Are we sure he wasn’t Grandma Mabel’s love child?
My shoulders slumped and I let out a breath. “No! I was just saying Matt is a great guy. I’d hate for anyone to hurt him.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. You look kind of hot.”
“No, it’s not! It’s not a shame. Okay?” I did not want Matt to get the impression I was hitting on his father. No sirree.
“Alright. Don’t get upset,” stated Darryl, his hands in the surrender position.
Matt chose that moment to step up, placing Darryl’s beer on the table.
“Who’s upset?” The fear in his voice was evident.
“No one. We’re all good. Just chatting.”
Matt gave me a grateful smile, while Darryl’s smile was much more suggestive. Urgh! How did I do it?
“Aren’t you two drinking?” asked Darryl.
“They’re bringing ours over once they’ve made them.”
“Some fancy cocktail drinker, are you?”
“No. Just a cappuccino.” Matt too had noticed the time.
Darryl looked momentarily wrong footed, but he didn’t let it stop him enjoying his beer.
“What was it about me that made you want to interview me?” he asked, getting the conversation on track. “You mentioned it being something about genealogy.”
“I’m considering a story on family heritage and how people are using DNA to track their families.”
“Interesting stuff.”
“It came about after I decided to look into my own family tree.”
“Family trees were not something I cared much about. I knew who my parents were and that was enough for me.”
“What happened to your parents?” I asked. “Are they still in Westport?”
“Nah, they both got killed when I was a teenager. I kind of went off the rails for a bit after that.”
“Is that something you’d like to share?” Matt asked.
“Nothing to tell really. Got myself into substances I shouldn’t have been involved with, wild women and bad men. Let me tell you, all that led to was spending a lot of time avoiding the police.”
“How old were you when your parents died?” I asked, sad that his life could have taken such a different direction.
“Eighteen.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Shit happens and there ain’t nothing we can do about it.”
Not very poetic, but I guessed it summed life up pretty well.
Conversation paused as the coffee was delivered to our table. Once the waitress had stepped out of earshot Matt pushed on.
“What about children,” His urgency to get to the point made him agitated, as his leg jiggled against mine.
“I don’t have any. Never wanted any either.”
Matt gulped and fiddled with the cuff of his shirt. “What if I told you that you did.”
“Then I’d tell you that you’re a liar.” He laughed.
“Did you ever know Jemima Montgomery? She was my mother.”
Darryl froze, his beer halfway to his lips. Slowly lowering it, he stared at Matt and we watched as the pieces started to fall into place in his mind. His eyes roamed Matt’s face before he really looked into his eyes.
Matt’s voice was barely above a whisper as he said, “I was born September 30th 1984 in the Westport General Hospital, and I believe that you’re my father.”
Silence descended as Darryl shook his head and Matt held his breath.
Darryl’s gaze fell to the table where he stared, lost in a memory. When he did speak, his voice was husky and low. “She told me she was pregnant, but I didn’t believe her. Instead I took off on my motorbike, leaving town. I came back a year later looking for her, but she’d gone. None of her friends would tell me where she’d moved to.”
“Did you try to find her?” Matt asked, his jaw tight.
“I didn’t put a whole lot of effort into it. Instead I lost myself in the bottom of a bottle and then spent the next five years in jail for armed robbery.”
It was my turn to gulp.
“She’d moved to Tasmania where she raised me as a single mother.”
“Is she still in Tasmania?”
“No. She passed away a few years ago from cancer.”
Sadness enveloped us as we momentarily got lost in our own thoughts of Jemima. I’d never known her, but I knew the man she had raised, and from that I knew she was a good person.
“Life’s a bitch,” muttered Darryl, lifting the bottle to his lips and downing its contents.
As an awkward silence sat between us, I reassuringly placed my hand on Matt’s thigh and thought about life.
Darryl had so many sliding door moments. If Carol hadn’t have given him up for adoption. If his parents hadn’t been killed at such a critical age. If he’d stuck around and been the father that he could have been. All those moments led him to where he was today. Was it too late for him to change any of it?
I knew that Matt hoped for the fairy tale ending, but I wasn’t sure how Darryl felt. His body language was tense, and he looked like he wanted to run for the hills. Yet something in his eyes told me that he wanted to learn more, and I prayed there was a chance he would stick around.
“I’m not sure what you want from me now,” said Darryl, his eyes downturned. “I’ve done nothing with my life I’m proud of. I have nothing to offer you.”
“I’m not looking for anything but your time. Other than that, I have no expectations from you.”
“You want to get to know me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Darryl shrugged and fiddled with his beer bottle. “Maybe I’m not worth knowing.”
“Are you willing to let me be the judge of that?”
Darryl gulped as emotion burned bright in his eyes. “Can I have some time to process this? It’s a bit of a shock, you know.”
Matt laughed a nervous laugh. “Sure. I understand. But there’s a lot more to this story than you think.”
“Maybe that’s something for another day,” I offered. Darryl was already pale enough. To give him the story that his parents weren’t really his parents might just be a shock too many.
“Okay. But at least let me buy you another beer,” offered Matt. “And I might just have one myself.”
I’d give Darryl his due. He was made of strong stuff. As much as he eyed the door, not once did he attempt to run out of it.
Instead he made small talk with Matt, allowing him to retell stories of Jemima and his life growing up. Darryl smiled in all the right places, but it didn’t take a genius to see the distance between them.
“So, it was mum who instilled in me I should always donate blood,” Matt f
inished.
“Yeah, yeah. Mine too,” offered Darryl, the first words he’d said in the last ten minutes. “I know my blood group is rare so I donate when I can. Do you know the funny thing?”
I knew lots of funny things but didn’t offer them to the conversation.
“Neither of my parents had the same blood group as me,” Darryl mused.
“That’s not funny,” I said, remembering an assignment I’d done in biology at high school. “AB blood group comes from either parent having A or B, not necessarily AB.”
Matt frowned and squeezed my leg.
“Both my parents had O blood type,” Darryl finished.
It was then I remembered Darryl was adopted. Well, that explained a lot.
“Mum had A blood type,” added Matt. “What do you have, Molly?”
“O. All my family have it. It’s the most common.”
“I wonder what our baby will have?” Matt smiled down at me through his dark lashes, and I knew no matter what happened with Darryl, he was going to be okay.
“Your baby?” coughed Darryl.
“Yeah. We forgot to mention. You’re going to be a grandfather.”
Chapter Fifteen
I sat up in bed and pushed my hair from my face, my breathing ragged. The nightmare had felt all too real and I reached across to Matt, just to check he was alive.
Vampires and blood filled my mind as I tried to shake the dream, and a cold trickle of sweat dripped over my clammy skin.
Untangling my feet from the sheets, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and padded to the bathroom, using the moonlight streaming through the bathroom window to light my way.
Turning the taps to cold, I dabbed my face with water and tossed my nightshirt in the dirty wash basket, before searching for a dry one. I hadn’t had a nightmare like that for a long time, and I wondered if it was the full moon or all the talk of blood causing my imagination to go into overdrive.
Whatever it was, I hoped not to repeat it in a hurry.
Now the problem with dabbing your face with cold water at one a.m. was that it woke you up, and after I got back into bed all I did was toss and turn.