Page 31 of A Bossy Surprise

“Yes, he does seem more mature now. He took the news hard, but he wants to get to know Brady and I think that’s for the best.” They all appear to be silent in thought. So I add, “Listen, I’m sure I could’ve handled this better, and I know I’ve made more of a mess than was necessary, but moving forward I would like for my son to know his father. At the end of the day I think that is what is best for Brady.”

“I agree. A boy needs his father,” Dad says in that macho way of his.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and shrug instead. “I just thought I should let you guys know what was going on.”

They all nod.

“How is Lucas doing?” Mom asks.

“I don’t know. He’s avoiding me. I’ve tried calling him a million times but he won’t take my calls.”

“He just needs to cool off,” Dad says.

“Yeah, give him some time. He’ll reach out to you when he’s ready to talk,” Mom says.

I almost bring up the fact that I don’t know why he is so upset, but that just feels like I would be giving them a reason to jump down my throat. So I swallow my tongue.

“Anyway, I had a long day at work today and have an early start tomorrow. So I guess I’ll see you guys around,” I say.

We all say our goodbyes and end the call.

That went better than I expected.

My parents have always loved Adam, and I understand why. He basically saved my brother’s life when we were kids.

I remember them having multiple shouted conversations about Lucas’s depression after he went back to school and all the other kids made his life miserable. It wasn’t until Adam came along and pulled Lucas out of his shell that their worries were assuaged.

Ever since then they treat Adam as if he can walk on water. Although they didn’t say it, I’m sure they’re thrilled he’s Brady’s father.

Whatever. Now they know. All that’s left is everything else I have to deal with.

It’searly Sunday evening and I’m holding my son’s hand as we stand along the Cuyahoga River.

I wonder whether this was the right choice of a meeting place.

Brady is going to meet his father for the first time. I don’t know how Brady is going to react. So perhaps this would have been better in a more controlled setting like our apartment.

Well, it’s too late now.

We wander closer to the river and look up at the city. The both of us are mesmerized by the view of Cleveland before us.

I’ve lived here for a while now and I can’t get over how beautiful this city is. Now, it will never be as picturesque as Montpelier with its small town feel, colorful trees, beautiful buildings, amazing weather and eclectic art seen, but it’s still pretty great.

I’m so distracted that I don’t even hear the footsteps approaching.

“Hey,” Adam’s deep timbre comes from behind us.

We turn around and there he is.

He’s put some effort into looking good. He has finally shaven that stubble he’s been sporting for the past week, and his hair looks like it did the first time I saw him here in Cleveland; styled to within an inch of its life. He is wearing relaxed blue jeans and a blue button down shirt open at the collar with the sleeves rolled up his forearms.

I laugh on the inside that he’s gone through so much effort to meet a six-year-old, but I like it.

Brady points at Adam. “Hey, you’re Mommy’s friend who was in our house.”

“Yes, I am.” Adam smiles down at our son and his eyes warm up.

I squat in front of Brady and turn him so he’s looking directly at me. “Sweetie, this is Adam Grant and he’s not only my friend.”