Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(17)

As soon as I left Claire’s room, I escaped to the front porch. Even though it faces the street, there's privacy. Ivy threaded trellises fill the space between the three brick posts that run the length of the porch. A large wooden swing hangs from the ceiling. My dad installed it last year, and when I questioned him about how securely it hung, he gave me a dirty look. I shut my mouth and fell in love with the damn thing, but every time Claire sits on it I feel nervous. I keep that feeling to myself though.

With one foot I push off the ground, letting the gentle sway calm me. For the moment, hidden out here behind the wall of ivy, I can pretend like today didn’t happen.

Of course, in order to forget, my mind would have to stop relentlessly throwing memories and what-if's at me. Right now, between the two adults living in this house, my dad is the only one allowing me to forget, and that's because he went mute the second we arrived home. I’m pretty sure he’s mad at me for lying to him about Isaac’s name. It was so long ago I don’t even fully remember why I lied. Mostly I think it was to establish my distance from the fiasco that produced the best thing in my world.

The night is pitch black, but it’s noisy. My neighbors are having a party. Judging by the giggles from girls and loud calls of bro, it’s either the high-school son or older, college-age boy. Either way, it doesn’t matter. It's a Saturday night. I'd care about the noise if Claire wasn't passed out harder than some of those partygoers will be later. And I certainly don't need quiet right now.

Taking a sip of wine, I push off the ground once more, sending the swing into the air. I breathe in a deep breath through my nose and blow it out loudly. The swing slows on its own, until it comes to a stop. With my face upturned and my eyes closed, I let out an audible groan.

“How did this happen?” The question slips out, joining the din next door. This whole day feels surreal. Maybe I’ll wake up and find it was just a dream.

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

My eyes fly open.

Isaac is leaning against the brick post closest to me. He looks like Isaac from the night we first met. Jeans, a gray zip-up hoodie. His gaze is intense, and I find myself squirming beneath it.

“Mind if I sit down?” he asks, but he’s already coming my way.

I shake my head and scoot over. The swing moves when he settles beside me.

“How did you find out where I live?” I concentrate on the intricate threading of ivy between the two posts. I can’t bear to look in his eyes.

“I have a friend in admissions.”

I nod, preparing myself for what I know is coming.

“I went there after the surgery. I wanted to know Claire’s birthday.” He speaks slowly, his tone resolute.

My breath sucks back into my throat and fills my lungs. If he hasn’t already figured it out, he’s right on the edge of knowing.

“February second,” I whisper.

“And nine months before that was May. I don’t know what you did for thirty out of thirty-one days that month, but I know what you did for one hour of it.”

The nerves engulf my body. He deserves to know, I understand that, but what will happen once he does? I don’t have the perfect family, but what I do have is my own tiny slice of heaven. Will he take that from me?

“Just ask the question you came here to ask.” I can’t take this. We need to get it over with so I can assess how much Isaac is going to threaten my way of life.

He shakes his head. “I knew the answer the first time I looked into her eyes. I went to admissions for confirmation. Between her birthday and the fact that you’re the only parent listed on her paperwork, that was all I needed.”

I look at him. He’s facing me. I don’t see anger on his face. His look is more…serene? No. Content? Maybe. More like pleased.

“I tried to find you.” I feel the need to defend my actions, though he’s accused me of nothing. “Two weeks after I got a positive test. I went to your apartment. You’d already moved. I knew you were long gone, to wherever it was you were going—”

“Africa.”

“You went to Africa?”

“For a while, yes. Then I extended my trip and went to different areas in South America.” He palms the stubble on his cheeks, throwing a glance at me. “I didn’t think there was much for me here. And there, in the places I went to, the kids needed help. I learned a lot. It’s why I was called today.”

I don’t know what to say. I’m beyond impressed, and in a way I feel like it’s a good thing I left his place that night. All those children needed him to fix them, and back home there was one child who needed him in a different way.

“It’s good to know you tried to find me.” He says. “I didn’t leave much of a trail, though.”

The image of the man who answered the door at Isaac’s old apartment flits through my mind. I shake my head and say, “I did what I could. After that, what was I supposed to do?”

Isaac’s fists ball in his lap, then his fingers flex out. “I don’t know… This situation is so messed up. This morning I got a call about a little girl who was going to need emergency surgery. And you know what? That’s not uncommon. It’s actually typical.” He leans forward to rest his head in his hands. “But that’s when everything typical ended. And what am I supposed to tell my fiancée?”