“I booked the room,” Thomas said. “Joy decided what it became.”
“And I’ve made another decision,” I said. “From now on, you contact me about Joshua in writing. Visits follow the schedule. You don’t arrive at my home because you feel entitled to walk in.”
“I’m his father.”
“Then act like one. Learn his feeding times. Show up when you promise. Stop using him as proof that you’re a family man.”
Jonathan’s mouth opened. Then Mary appeared, expecting the private family reception he’d promised.
She looked at his suit.
“I needed to manage the situation, Mary,” he hissed.
Mary removed a key from her purse and pressed it into his hand.
“You didn’t choose either of us. You chose whichever story protected you.”
“No. Joy was right. I believed what made staying easy.”
She walked out.
Jonathan looked at me as if I owed him rescue.
I picked up a tray.
“The families are waiting.”
Thomas faced his son. “My money won’t support two households or repair your reputation. From today, you pay your own way.”
“I’m holding my son responsible for what he did.”
The minister bowed his head.
“May these children grow up around people who tell the truth, keep their word, and show up when life gets difficult.”
I looked at Joshua.
That was the family blessing I wanted for him.
The next morning, I dressed him for his christening. One sock kept slipping off, and I fixed it three times before giving up.
Thomas knocked.
“Nervous?”
“There’s a difference?”
“There is now.”
Jonathan sat separately during the service. Before it began, he approached me.
“Can I hold Joshua?”
Our temporary plan allowed it, so I placed our son in his arms.
Jonathan looked down. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m apologizing to you.”
“Then do it later, when there isn’t an audience and you aren’t holding Joshua between us.”
His face tightened.
“So does he. He has the right to a father who doesn’t turn every important day into a performance.”
I took Joshua back when the minister called us forward.
During the blessing, he began to fuss. I whispered his name, and he settled against me.
Thomas smiled from the front row.
“He knows your voice.”
“And he’ll grow up knowing I used it.”
One year later, the photograph from the community meal stood beside his birthday cake.
The divorce was final. Jonathan had regular parenting time, written schedules, and no key to my home. Thomas remained close to Joshua. Mary raised her child separately.
