Her Secrets (On Hold)

Chapter Ten

       Bellamy

      I watched Clarke wipe her tears away and hold her chin high. As much as I wanted to hate her, as much anger as I had in my heart, it was over taken by the pride I saw and felt in her.

      "I have never been more proud of anyone in my entire life, Clarke. You were eighteen years old. In my anger and feelings of betrayal, I over looked that. You were what, nineteen and raising a child? You lost hours and hours of sleep not just for him, but for school. You worked more jobs than most people by twenty years old. You built yourself a foundation, got a degree, and you've taken care of Homer. All alone. I have never loved anyone like I have you, but I'm more proud and stunned. You're the strongest person I know."

       Clarke was wiping away fresh tears as I reached over and rubbed her hand. "I'm still hurt. I can't lie to you. And I'm mad. But knowing everything you went through, all that fear you suffered alone, I've never felt this way. You are an incredible mother Clarke. And incredible woman."

       "Thank you," she sobbed. "I know you're upset and you have to be. But thank you for what you said."

        "I meant it. But, now that I know about him, I want to meet him."

        "You can meet him in the morning," she offered, drying her face.

         "Really?"

         "Yes," she nodded. "Come by in the morning."

          "Ho-how will we explain that he suddenly has a father?" A new wave of anger coursed through him imagining Homer wondering why he wasn't around.

        "He knows who you are, Bellamy. I don't know what you've been thinking, but I've told him who you are. He's seriously not old enough to know he's supposed to have two parents. He's barely two and he's never asked what a father is. But, I've always told him. We have a framed photo of you in your uniform, he knows you were off fighting for your country. And he's seen a million pictures of the two of us. It's always been a big deal to me to show him that we loved each other when he was conceived."

         "Yo-you did? You told him about me?"

         "Bellamy, you're his father. And I knew that this moment was coming around this time. He will recognize you as soon as he sees you."

        Thankfulness along with confusion were etched into my face. I could tell as Clarke studied my expression. I was honored and happy she had told him about me.

        "Okay, tomorrow morning then. I'll come by." Now to prepare myself to meet my own son.

         The entire drive, not a very long one, was destroying me. I had bought breakfast, juice, and coffee. I wasn't sure why, but nerves made me. As I pulled in to Clarke's driveway I was taken back just be realizing Clarke had a driveway.

       Clarke had a house. She was twenty years old and she had a house. And a kid. Taking deep breaths I got out of the car and walked to her door, but before I knocked I took in the scene through the blurry glass on her front door.

       She was smiling, showing a framed photo. Homer's little face looked happy, but what do I know? I was just so thankful Clarke actually wanted this.

      I knocked, holding my breath.

       "Come on in," Clarke smiled, Homer wrapping his small arms around Clarke's legs. She followed me to the table where I put down the food. I watched Clarke as she pulled out a Batman plate, putting ketchup for his hash browns and put apple jelly on his biscuit. Next she put the straw in his juice box and kissed his cheek.

        "Daddy is home now?" Homer asked, making my heart swell.

        "Daddy is back," Clarke told him. "He's not in the army any more. He's been so ready to see you."

        "Daddy?" I turned to him, but I couldn't form words. "You 'hewe'?"

         "I'm here," I smiled. "I've missed you, Homer."

         "Mommy, I show him my toys?"

         "Let's eat first, okay? Then Daddy would love to see your toys. You can show him your whole room," she told him excitedly.

        I barely ate. I couldn't really focus on my food as I watched them. Homer was a mess, but Clarke just leaned over occasionally to help fix his biscuit or hand him a napkin to wipe his chin. Everything they did was natural, like watching some choreographed dance. And I was in the front row, just looking in.

        "Daddy, 'mon!" Homer said excitedly, tugging my arm.

         Clarke smiled. "He's telling you come on. Go ahead, I'm going to clean up."

        Still shocked, I allowed his tiny pale hand to pull me up and across the house to his bedroom. He pulled out a huge tub and dumped them on his Ninja Turtle rug, and it was all army men.

        "These are 'yike' you, Daddy. 'Pway' with me."

         For the next half hour, Homer and I tried to play army men. He laughed, made them fight, and corrected my playing techniques quite a few times. Clarke came in, her make up on.

       "Hey, Homer? Do you want to take Daddy to the park?"

       He nodded excitedly and jumped at her. She laughed loudly, catching him and raising him above her head. "Okay, let's get you dressed." Clarke dressed him as I picked up all the army men and stretched.

       We all walked out of the house together, Homer jumping from stone to stone as we got to Clarke's car. She buckled him and kissed him, again everything so natural.

       At the park, Clarke made Homer swing in the baby swings. He wasn't happy at all, but she reminded him that holding on with his broken arm would be too hard. I was standing off to the side, but she announced loudly that it was my turn to push him.

      She stepped back, and I watched Homer smile at me. When I pushed him and he giggled, I knew that I wouldn't be able to ever replace the feeling in my chest.

       For two hours he wanted to me swing him, chase him, and for all three of us to play hide and seek. No longer was I feeling like the outsider, I was now in the choreography. Nothing compared to what Clarke shared with him, but I was in.