23

The next night, Nate found himself in his kitchen, phone in hand, telling himself the plan was not supposed to have gone as badly as it had.

For the rest of the day yesterday, Nate had continued to drill Nathaniel, holding up the photos of Monica, asking, “Who is this, Nathaniel? Can you tell me who this is, son?” Finally, with uncertainty heavy in his voice, Nathaniel said, “Mommy?”

Nate paused for a moment, turned over the photo to take a look at it himself, and then said happily, “That’s right. That’s right! It’s Mommy!” Nate picked up another photo, held it in front of the boy. “And who is this?”

“Mommy?”

“Yes!”

“And how about this one?”

“It’s Mommy,” Nathaniel said with confidence.

“Exactly!” Nate said, grabbing his son and giving him a hug.

Maybe the first phase of his plan would work.

Earlier that day, sitting in the kitchen, he had filled in Mrs. Weatherly.

“Now you remember how this is supposed to go, right?” he asked her.

“Yes, Mr. Kenny. After I pick up Nathaniel from nursery school, I’ll take him with me to run some errands. We’ll stop at the bookstore, get him a book or two, and there I’ll wait for you to call, letting me know it’s okay for us to come home.”

“Good,” Nate said.

The idea was for Nate to be in conversation with Monica. There would be soft music playing upon her arrival, and maybe by the time Nate had made the phone call to Mrs. Weatherly, he would have offered Monica a glass of wine. His intention was not to get her drunk and into bed, but to soften her up, lower her guard just a little.

Mrs. Weatherly would walk in with Nathaniel as though she didn’t expect Nate to have company, and that’s when Monica would see the boy.

She would recognize him from when she had wanted to adopt him. It would probably pain her a bit, seeing the boy, Nate told himself. And then when Nathaniel called her Mommy, she would want to know why. Nate would tell her he always considered her the boy’s mother even though they were divorced. If nothing else, it would be a good starting point for deeper discussion.

But things were not going as planned.

Earlier tonight, when Nate heard the doorbell ring, he quickly glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror and smoothed down the front of his shirt. He was dressed casually, the shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Instead of slacks he wore jeans, and loafers instead of the dress shoes he normally wore. Passing the living room, he lowered the volume of the jazz he was playing and opened the door.

Upon seeing Monica, Nate smiled brightly. She looked even more beautiful than he had thought she would, wearing her hair down as he always loved it, and wearing only the slightest bit of makeup. But the smile fell from his face when, just beside her, Nate saw Lewis Waters.

Nate stood there, holding the door, not knowing what to say or do. He knew Monica was involved with this man, but considering the history between him and Lewis, Nate would never have thought she would have brought him along. Monica looked down at her feet, almost appearing sorry after she saw the expression on Nate’s face. “Hello, Nate. I hope you don’t mind that I brought Lewis with me?”

“No. That’s fine.” Nate’s voice was low. He stepped aside and let Monica and Lewis enter his house.

“Come into the dining room,” Nate said.

He closed the door and just stood there a moment, shaking his head. He turned off the stereo, breathed deeply, and exhaled before walking into the dining room.

“Monica,” Nate said, standing behind the head of the dining room table. “It’s good to see you.” He reached out his hand. Monica took it and they awkwardly shook.

Nate glanced in Lewis’s direction. “Lewis,” Nate acknowledged coldly.

“Nate,” Lewis said, sounding as though he still hated the man and wasn’t trying at all to hide it.

“Can I get either of you something to drink?”

“Nothing for me,” Monica said.

“Yeah, Nate. I think I’ll have a beer. I know you got something expensive and imported in your fridge, don’t you?”

Nate tried his best to display a smile. “I’ll see what I have,” he said, turning and leaving the room.

In the kitchen, Nate picked up the phone and dialed Mrs. Weatherly.

“Don’t bring Nathaniel home yet. Not until I call you back, okay?”

“Is everything all right, Mr. Kenny?”

“Everything is fine. I’ll call you when you can come home.”

Nate hung up the phone, grabbed a beer from the fridge, along with a bottle of water for himself, and headed back into the dining room. He placed a coaster down for Lewis, then set the bottle down on top of it. Just when he was about to sit, Lewis said, “Uh, you got a glass? I stopped drinking beer from the bottle about a year ago.”

Nate gave Lewis a hateful glance, then headed back to the kitchen. The man was playing games, Nate thought as he pulled a glass from the cabinet. But Nate told himself he would be cordial, civil. He would discuss the things he had planned with Monica but make it very quick and then get them out of there. There was no way he could follow through with his original plan.

“Thanks,” Lewis said, taking the glass from Nate once he returned.

Nate sat down, and again Lewis spoke.

“Where’s your bathroom? I want to wash my hands first.”

“Down the hallway, on the left,” Nate said, pointing.

Lewis stood, but before stepping away from his chair, he leaned over and gave Monica a quick kiss on the lips. By the look on Monica’s face, she was not expecting it.

After Lewis was gone, Nate just sat and stared at his ex-wife. “And you brought him why?”

“This is a business meeting. He can be here. He can hear this.”

“But what’s the point, other than to spite me? Will he know what he’s hearing? The man can barely speak proper English. Will he understand what we’re talking about?”

“I don’t appreciate that, Nate,” Monica whispered. “I’m in a relationship with that man, and I will not allow you to sit here and talk badly about him.”

“A relationship. Of all the worthless, out of work, uneducated street people out there, you had to pick him.”

“I didn’t just pick him, Nate,” Monica said, pulling her left hand out from under the table and showing Nate the ring. “I’m marrying him.”

Nate was speechless. He understood she had probably been rebounding when she started seeing Lewis. She probably figured she knew Lewis, felt that some of the identity that Nate had created for him had to have been real. But he hadn’t thought she was foolish enough to marry the man. All Nate could do was shake his head.

“You ain’t liking that too much, huh, Nate?” Lewis said from the door of the dining room.

He took his seat beside Monica, casually draping an arm around her chair. “Nate, you ain’t saying nothing.”

“Lewis, that’s enough,” Monica said.

“Yeah, you better listen to her, or you might have to fool someone else into marrying you,” Nate said behind clenched teeth.

“You ain’t liking this ’cause you want Monica back?”

“Lewis,” Monica said, “I told you—”

“Naw, baby. I already know the deal,” Lewis said, looking around the room. “Lights all dim, too dim to be looking at paperwork. And when we came in there was soft music playing, which he quickly cut off after seeing me. What was that about, Nate? And look at him, his shirt all open. And I bet you got the fresh haircut just for this little meeting tonight, didn’t you?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nate said.

“I don’t? Tell Monica you don’t want her back.”

“Lewis, would you stop this? Or maybe we just need to leave,” Monica said.

“Fine. I don’t want to be here anyway,” Lewis said, smiling. “But first I want him to look you in the face and tell you he don’t want you back.”

Monica stood, shaking her head, and grabbed her purse.

“This is my house, and what you want means nothing,” Nate said.

“Just like I thought,” Lewis said, standing up from his chair, beside Monica.

“I’m sorry, Nate,” Monica said. “But I really think we need to be going.”

“Fine,” Nate said, standing. “You know where the door is.”

Monica headed toward the door, but Lewis stopped just in front of Nate. “I ain’t no fool. I know you want her back, but you ain’t getting her.”

“Lewis, come on!” Monica called from the front door.

“You hear me,” Lewis said. “Motherfucker, you ain’t getting her.”

Nate turned to Lewis, his face calm, not at all rattled, and said very softly, “You wanna bet?”

Lewis looked shocked, as though he could not believe Nate would actually admit his intentions. He whipped his head around, as if to see if Monica had heard what Nate said, but she was still down the hall.

“I swear if you don’t come with me now, you’ll be walking,” Monica warned.

“Run along, Lewis,” Nate said, smiling. “You don’t want your free ride to leave you.”