Chapter 2

Several tedious months later, the dust had settled on the divorce. After all the wrangling it came out exactly how I predicted. Our assets were split down the middle, meaning that the house was sold off and the proceeds divided. Each of us had our own retirement accounts and, even though mine was worth more than hers, the judge left them alone. Probably the only bright spots in the process were that Rose hadn’t given me an STD and the DNA results proved Ellie was my biological daughter.

Just as I predicted, the judge ruled that Ellie should be with her mother and gave me every other weekend and a full month in the summer, with alternating holidays. Also, unsurprisingly, I ended up paying a hefty amount in child support, which Rose immediately complained was an insufficient amount to raise her two children on. My attorney and I, along with the judge, were quick to explain I was only on the hook for supporting one of those children, since it was both visually obvious and genetically proven that Randall was not my child. The judge told her she was welcome to come back if she ever found the boy’s father, and he would assess child support on him at that time, including interest and penalties, if a conclusive DNA test could be obtained.

Rose still complained how this was all a plot to ruin her and cause her untold misery. It’s been her battle cry since day one. Every bad outcome for her is part of my master plan to cause her more misery. Sure. I planned everything, including the part where she cheated on me and ended up pregnant and doesn’t know who her son’s father is. No, there truly wasn’t a plan to destroy her. I didn’t do much more than walk out of the maternity ward and call a lawyer. The agony Rose was suffering was the result of her own deeds. I had no sympathy for her. She earned every bit of her pain. I had pain of my own to deal with. It took a few months of counseling to get over the anger but I worked through it. The loneliness remained.

It was hard to work past the loneliness because I’d withdrawn into a shell and was caught up in the vicious cycle of pushing people away while missing their friendship. It wasn’t as if people didn’t try. It was me that didn’t try. Those who tried early on were always curious about what happened and I was tired of telling the story. Since the story dominated my life at that point, there wasn’t anything else to talk about and they were forced to back off. That changed the nature of our friendships. It was the same way with the couples Rose and I had been friends with. They had all sided with me in all this but it still left me as a single man in the midst of couples. That threw off the dynamic and made it awkward to socialize with them, so they all slowly drifted away. I was lonely as a result. I suppose it didn’t help that I wasn’t feeling very sociable.

I wasn’t so worried about me. I worried about my daughter. Ellie stayed angry at Rose for a long time. It caused her to act out for a while, though she eventually settled down. The anger was still there, a rift between mother and daughter that never healed. Ellie and Rose were never close as mother and daughter after that. Ellie was a daddy’s girl who lived for the time she could spend with me. When I picked her up for my weekends with her, she would just about glow with happiness. That lasted until I had to take her back to Rose. I could see her sink deeper into anger and sadness the closer we got to Rose’s house. Rose blamed me for Ellie’s sullen attitude, accusing me of poisoning her daughter’s relationship with her. Yeah, it’s all part of my plot to destroy her.

Ellie’s anger was all toward Rose and, so far as I could tell, didn’t spill over on her little brother. Maybe that was odd, considering his conception was the very reason Ellie stayed angry at Rose, but the two of them got along well. Ellie told me lots of cute stories about her baby brother every time she stayed with me and it was clear she adored him despite him being the product of the very reason she stayed angry at Rose. I had told her from the beginning that he was her brother and she should love him, so I guess she listened to me on that. I’d also told her that Rose was still her mother and she should love her, too, but Ellie’s anger at Rose for ‘kissing the wrong daddy’ never cooled below a simmer. Ellie was a smart little girl, so I suppose she realized none of this was Randall’s fault.

My life in those years was mostly neither good nor bad. The worst parts were having to deal with Rose and not having more time with Ellie. The child support I was paying didn’t leave much room in the budget for anything fancy, but I managed to get by. My job was actually going well, and I got promoted a couple of years after the divorce was final. Rose, of course, tried to get the court to award her even more child support based on my higher income, but my attorney and I persuaded the judge against it by pointing out that Rose had also been promoted. In fact, her salary was more than mine at that point. I think his honor was getting sick of hearing her whine, because he actually reduced the amount I was supposed to pay and made it retroactive by three months. That was the last time she tried anything like that. But it was still, to Rose, another part of my master plan to cause her destruction.

As time went by, I found myself having to deal with the well-meaning efforts of friends, coworkers and acquaintances who saw my loneliness and thought that a new Mrs. Foreman might be the cure for it. I dated a few of them. A very few managed to get a second date. Those were the ones that didn’t want to trade ‘war stories’ about bad divorces. One got a third but decided an instant family with a harpy of an ex wasn’t for her. Before too long, I had spread the word to my friends and coworkers to stop trying to set me up and just rejected the few attempts that came in after that.

I heard through the grapevine that Rose wasn’t having any luck in that department herself. Apparently, single moms with two kids of different racial backgrounds aren’t high on the list. Or maybe the guys were as sick of the war stories as I was. One of the stories that got back to me was that the entire ‘date’ consisted of Rose listing the many ways I had done her wrong and how I was plotting to make her life miserable.

Nothing much noteworthy happened until about five years after the divorce. That was when Rose’s father, Gary, had a mild heart attack. Rose dropped everything to rush to the aid of her parents and left both Ellie, age ten, and Randall, age five, in my care for a few days because she couldn’t find a sitter. Yes, it was strange to end up babysitting the kid that started all this, and Rose spent about an hour making dire threats at me if anything should happen to the boy. I finally told her Randall was safe with me, but one more threat from her and she was going to be in danger. Her eyes went wide, but she took the hint and left.

Having the two of them stay with me barely altered my routine. Breakfast was more time-consuming because I had to feed them before the left instead of my usual routine of grabbing a cup of coffee at the drive-thru. Not a big hassle. They were both in the same elementary school with after-school care, which meant my morning and evening commutes changed and there was no way I could stay at the office and work late. No big problem there, either. My evening routine was thrown off by having two kids in the house. It was lively, but it wasn’t lonely.

Yes, Randall and I were a little uneasy around each other at first. I’m sure Rose had painted me as an ogre, but Ellie’s simple affection for both her daddy and her brother bridged the gap. By the end of their stay, I had to admit I actually liked the little guy. He was well-behaved and good-natured and, oddly, he latched onto me as a father figure, and because Ellie called me Daddy, he started to call me that, too. I think I was the only adult male he knew besides his grandfather, Gary. I didn’t encourage him to call me Daddy, but I didn’t stop him.

Jeanelle, my former mother-in-law, called me after a couple of days to let me know that Gary was out of danger. She also wanted to check on the kids, so I let her talk to both of them. They were happy to hear that their grandpa was better and both of them talked excitedly about much they were enjoying hanging out with me. When I got the phone back, Jeanelle told me that Rose had been fretting the entire time, worried that something was going to go wrong.

“I know you better than that, Ron,” she sighed, “but getting through Rose’s thick skull...”

“Odd as it sounds, Jeanelle,” I laughed, “I actually like the little guy. Plus, Ellie adores her little brother. Why would I do something to him and risk hurting my precious little girl?”

We said our goodbyes after I reminded her to tell Gary I was thinking of him. I was grateful for the call. I’d always been fond of Jeanelle and Gary and we’ve stayed in touch despite the divorce. I’ve even taken Ellie up there to see them a few times over the years. Rose gets pissed off by that, thinking I’m trying to undermine her relationship with her own parents. Gary and I have talked about it more than once. He says any strain between them and Rose is more her doing than theirs. Typical Rose.

Rose returned from her parents’ house to pick the kids up a few days later and I think she was relieved to find Randall was still alive. Not only that, he was also well-fed, happy and clean. It surprised her so much that she didn’t even gripe at me when she collected the kids. I helped her get all their possessions into the car, including the clothes I’d washed, folded and repacked for them. Not a word from her, good or bad, about any of that. The trouble started when the two little scamps stood by the car, waved and yelled, “Bye, Daddy!”

Boom! Rose was off and screaming. Screaming at me for putting them up to it. Screaming at Randall because I was most assuredly not his daddy. Screaming at Ellie for corrupting her brother. I could take her screaming at me, but the kids were innocent in this. I hustled the kids back into the apartment and pulled Rose off to the side.

“Stop it right now,” I barked at her. Pointing to a bench behind her, I told her to sit. She was shocked enough to obey me, since I don’t often raise my voice. “Rose, don’t you ever blame Ellie or Randall for this. Ever. Randall was just following Ellie’s lead. Ellie calls me Daddy. It’s the only name Randall has heard for me, so he started calling me Daddy, too. It’s all innocent. If you want him to call me something else, you teach him, and you have Ellie help him remember. Got that?” She nodded. “Now, stay put and I’ll get the kids rounded up so you can go.”

Rose sat there, stunned, as I walked back into the apartment. The kids were huddled on the couch. Ellie was looking fierce as she comforted her brother. I locked the door behind me so I could talk to them without being interrupted, then I squatted down in front of them and tried to soothe them. I started with Randall.