Chapter thirty-one
Lance
Hannah, David, and I are creating our own routine at home. It’s not been easy, but in the four weeks since we picked him up, our little family is beginning to settle. At first, Hannah was completely at sea with the whole situation. A baby in the house put her teenage stress levels through the roof. We had a lot of tears, not from the baby, and a fair number of heated arguments with each other.
The reality is, I wasn’t at home for most of Hannah’s childhood, and when I was, I acted like a babysitter rather than a dad. These past few weeks, I’ve pretended to know what to do, but really, I’m winging it. Hopefully, if I manage it, he’ll grow into a healthy little boy.
I hoped Ainsley would be a bit more accommodating than she has been. When I returned home from Iraq minus my leg, I was amazed at how my ex-wife stepped up to help. She put aside our differences, but when she found out I had an unexpected son,her support was not so great—in all honesty, it was completely absent.
On the short drive home, Hannah falls silent. “What’s up?” I ask.
“I was just wondering…” She trails off, sounding unsure. “Since you and Mum split, have you…”
“Have I what?”
Her shoulders straighten beneath the seat belt.
“Have you had a girlfriend? Did you have a girl in Ibiza?” Her eyes flick over her shoulder to her baby brother. That’s what we’re calling him now. The first time she said it, my face almost split open; I was so damn happy.
“No, there were no girls in Ibiza.” That’s the truth. I can say that wholeheartedly, knowing I’m being honest with my daughter. I pray her interrogation stops there.
“What about here?” Her question sits, proving that hoping for her to let it go was wishful thinking. Hannah rarely sees a topic finished before she’s exhausted every avenue. She clears her throat.
I don’t want to lie, but I also don’t want to pick this wound. It still bleeds. Revisiting it means feeling the loss all over again. But Hannah deserves honesty, after everything that’s gone before.
“There was one.” I pause, considering the best way to describe Katie. “She was special. Phenomenal, really. But it didn’t work out.”
Her eyes light up, excited by fresh gossip. “Her name was?”
“Katie,” I say simply. One single word that means so damn much.
“Katie?” she says, a slim finger tapping her lip. The possible women whirring in her mind, I assume.
“She’s not from Aviemore. She stayed at Eden House for a while.”
Every feature on her face pops as she connects the dots. “The writer?”
I nod.
“Oh… I liked her. She was nice.”
“You knew her?” I ask, surprised. Sometimes, this town feels too small for any of us. Nothing stays private, even when you think it is. All information comes out eventually.
“Not really, she was in the pub a few times. She would chat with me when I was doing my homework at the bar. I wish you’d told me you were friends with her. Mum and I saw her on TV last week.”
“TV?”
Hannah nods.
“Why?”
“For her book, dumbass.” She clasps her hands over her mouth before I can even scold her.
“Don’t let me hear…”
“Sorry, Dad,” she mumbles. And I let the incident go, more interested in finding out what she knows about the woman I’ve been pretending to forget. “Her new book is out; she went crazy viral on socials. She’s a big thing.”
“You don’t read…” Her lips split wide. She laughs hard, shaking her head.