Glass Ceilings (11 page)

Nicholas tucked his head into the crook of Angela's neck, occasionally lifting it to continue to measure me up. The same emotions I was battling consumed Angela as well. When he wrapped his tiny arms around Angela's neck, clutching her tightly, she soothed him by rubbing small circles on his back and kissing the top of his head.

With one hand she wiped her cheeks clean. “Come meet your son,” she whispered, staring into my eyes.

I couldn't move, my feet felt cemented to the floor. What if he wouldn't let me touch him? Being so close yet so far would further torture me. Sensing my hesitation, Angela slowly walked toward me until we were inches apart. His baby scent immediately invaded my senses, prompting me to lean in closer, unable to get enough of it.

“Nicholas,” Angela said softly. He lifted his head and looked at his mother first before meeting my eyes. “Baby, this is your dada.” She turned him in her arms, so he was now facing me.

“Dada,” he repeated, his pajama-covered feet bouncing up and down excitedly.

“Yes, Dada.” Angela looked at me over the top of his head. “Do you want to hold him?”

I nodded, reaching for him tentatively, surprised when he came willingly and forcing my breath to hitch in my throat after I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

His hand instantly latched onto my nose, and Angela laughed through her tears. “This is his new thing,” she explained as I laughed along with her. “I recently taught him that game.”

“Hey, little man,” I said as he watched me with his wide green eyes. He was a happy baby, alert, inquisitive. I could tell his tiny mind was taking me in with every word I spoke.

“Dada,” he confirmed, still holding on to my nose. When he released me I held his body firmly against my own, kissing the top of his head repeatedly.

The anger toward his mother I'd been consumed with slowly dissipated with each moment I held my son. None of it mattered anymore, not the lies, the secrecy, none of it. The only thing that mattered was the tiny person I clutched in my arms.

It was at that exact moment I realized everything I did from then on, I'd be doing for him.

O
CTOBER 2015

Yesterday, I was Nick Farley, an executive assistant director in the FBI.

Today, I became Nick Farley, dad to Nicholas Cavello.

Yesterday, I worried about myself and only myself.

Today, all that changed.

The more time that ticked by as I visited with my son, the more I knew I couldn't leave her apartment. Irrational thoughts filled my mind such as sleeping on her couch from that day forward and never leaving their side. The overwhelming swell of protectiveness that engulfed me took over every cell in my body, and crippled me from walking out the door and going on with my normal daily life.

I watched as she fed him breakfast. I hovered over her as she gave him a bath. I rocked him as I read him a book. I played with him on the floor of his room, allowing Angela time to run into the shower. I stared at him in awe as he kept handing me tiny trucks from his toy box. He wasn't walking yet, but he could crawl at record speed. I laughed out loud when he scurried toward the box like a little crab, lifted himself up to peek inside, and then scurried back while holding another truck. His giggle as I took the truck and rolled it over his tummy was the best motherfucking sound I'd ever heard.

Wanting to capture this moment, I pulled out my phone to take some pictures of him.

“Mama,” Nicholas said, looking over my shoulder toward the door. I turned to see Angela leaning against the doorway. I had no idea how long she'd stood there watching us. Her hair, still wet from her shower, hung in damp waves around her shoulders. The blue shirt she had on hugged her curves, her slender legs looked fantastic in jeans and boots. Her breasts were fuller, making her waist appear narrower than I remembered.

She looked better, but for some reason I didn't think showering was the real reason that her eyes looked brighter, her face more relaxed. Seeing me finally united with my son must have lifted the huge weight that she'd been carrying.

“Would you like some coffee before you go?” she asked from the doorway.

“I can't leave him,” I admitted while running a hand over his soft hair. “Not yet.” Her eyes followed me as I stood. “I need to make a phone call.”

“Okay.” She sat beside Nicholas on the rug, resuming the game he was playing with me. I closed the door behind me, wanting privacy for the call I was about to make.

It was insane how my life literally turned on a dime in less than a twenty-four- hour span. Just yesterday, I went into work oblivious to what was about to happen later that day. There I was about to call in to work for the first time ever to spend the day with a son I didn't know I had.

I dialed George's cell, and he picked up immediately. “Where are you?”

I sighed, not even beginning to know where to start. Last he saw me I had just interrogated an obvious ex-lover on the murder of a mobster.

“George, I need to take a personal day.”

“What's wrong?”

“This just keeps getting more and more complicated.”

“Are you with her?”

“Yes.” At the grunting sound he made over the phone, I added, “It's not what you think. I need today. If she's on the schedule, please move her to tomorrow.”

“Nick, do you remember why she was at headquarters yesterday?”

“Yes. I still need a day.”

He waited a pause and said, “Okay, buddy. I'll talk to Rupert.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. Tell him I'll be there first thing tomorrow morning to fill him in.” I knew Rupert wouldn't give George a hard time when he relayed my message. He'd reserve that for me.

“You got it.”

After hanging up the call, I stared at my son's closed door for a few minutes, wondering how this was all going to work. There wasn't a question I'd be altering my life to accommodate him in every way. Stacie, the woman I'd been seeing, would have to understand he was now in my life. It wasn't like we had anything more than a convenient relationship anyway.

I never even asked Angela if there was someone else in her life. Enough time had passed and all the while she'd thought I was with someone else. She could have easily moved on. The thought caused my chest to constrict with jealousy.

I opened the door to see them just where I'd left them a few minutes earlier. Nicholas was still scurrying back and forth, bringing more trucks to his mom. They both looked up with smiles on their faces.

“He looks so cute when he crawls,” I said, watching with a grin plastered on my face.

“He's about to walk any day now. He'll pull himself up, stare at me, and then it's as if his little mind says, ‘Screw this,' before he drops to the floor and crawls instead.” She kissed his cheek and stood when I walked into the room. “Are you going?” she asked.

“No. I need more time with him.”

“Okay,” she said despondently. I looked down at our son breaking eye contact. “Usually on my day off I take him to the park, but we can do whatever you'd like. If we do go to the park, we'd need to do it now to be back in time for his nap.”

“The park now would be great. I never even asked if you were free today, I'm sorry I just assumed.”

“Nick, you have nothing to be sorry about.” She looked over at Nicholas and added, “I'm not at all surprised you're already falling in love with him. He's irresistible.”

“He is,” I agreed. When our eyes met I said, “You did a great job so far. He looks happy.” I
shouldn't
have been surprised when the familiar electricity we'd shared in the past sparked to life between us. It almost made it impossible to ignore my desire to kiss her…almost.

The need to keep things realistic between us had me adding, “Angela, I also need more time with you. There are a lot of unanswered questions regarding Ronnie. I need to know everything before I meet with my supervisor tomorrow.”

“We can talk while he naps later.”

Nicholas crawled over to where we stood, raising his arms. “Up. Up.”

“Do you want to go bye-bye?” Angela asked as she bent to pick him up. He nodded and smiled, grabbing her nose.

She kissed his arm before gently prying his fingers loose. “Can you hold him while I get his diaper bag together?” Without waiting for an answer, she leaned closer to me and I automatically took him in my arms.

“Bye-bye,” Nicholas repeated, immediately grabbing my nose.

“Yes, little man, we're going bye-bye.” He let me hold him the entire time Angela threw some diapers, toys, and snacks into a backpack. She dropped it on the floor near the door where his stroller sat. A few minutes later she announced, “I just need to change his diaper and make him lunch…and then we can go.”

“I can change it.”

She looked over, surprised. “You can?”

I shrugged and admitted, “A friend and I once babysat Ben's daughter. I know it's not exactly the same to change a boy, but I think I can figure it out.”

“Oh, okay. Um…diapers, wipes,” she said, pointing to the shelf below the changing table. She grabbed a toy cellphone from his crib. “This is his favorite distraction while changing him.” Without another word, she turned and left Nicholas and me alone.

He continued to tweak my nose as I carried him to the changing table. “Okay, Nicholas, you be nice. I'm new at this.” I laid him down, handed him the cellphone, and went to work on changing my son's diaper for the first time. No sooner did I have his old diaper off, than he proceeded to pee on me. Holding a firm hand on his belly, I jumped back as far as I could to avoid the rest of his assault. “Wow, buddy.” I laughed while he shamelessly emptied his bladder.

Everything was soaked, from his outfit, to my shirt, to the changing pad beneath him. “Um, Angela?” I called out, helpless and, more important, baffled as to how I should handle this.

She stepped up behind me and laughed as soon as she saw the scene. “I should have warned you.”

“He's done this before? I shouldn't take it personally?”

“No, definitely don't take it personally. I usually lay a tissue over him to stop the stream.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

Like a pro, she stripped him naked, cleaned up the mess with him perched on her hip, and had him diapered and dressed in record time. Nicholas was grinning at me when she lifted him up in her arms once done.

Well played, kid,
I thought. “Impressive,” was all I could say to her when she looked over at me.

“Practice.” She surveyed my clothing. “Your shirt is all wet.”

The clothes I still wore from the day before were not only wrinkled, but I now had a huge pee stain covering most of my chest. “I guess I should take this off.” I unbuttoned the shirt and shrugged out of it leaving me shirtless and Angela staring at my gun. “The safety is on it,” I explained.

“Okay.”

“Do you happen to have a T-shirt I can borrow?”

“Uh, yeah.” She opened a drawer, pulled out an oversized Penn State T-shirt, and handed it to me. “My brother's,” she offered at my confused expression.

I felt her eyes on me the entire time, even after I had the shirt on. Leaving it untucked, I walked toward her door to grab my jacket off the coatrack.

“Ready?” I asked when she still hadn't moved from inside Nicholas's room.

“Um…yeah,” she said, blushing at being caught ogling me.

Avoiding my gaze, she put a jacket and baseball hat on the baby, but the experienced mom I witnessed a few minutes ago suddenly became a clumsy, nervous Nellie. Her hands shook while trying to strap him into his stroller, she bumped it a few times on the way out the door, and then she realized that she forgot the diaper bag in the apartment once we reached the elevator.

Internally, it warmed me to know that I still affected her…although it shouldn't have.

The weather was perfect. On our way to the park I ran into a deli and grabbed us each a coffee and bagel. We found a bench and sat awkwardly with our son being the only icebreaker. When he wanted out of the stroller, I pushed him on the swings, or held him on my lap pointing out dogs or squirrels that kept him entertained. He ate his PB&J piece by piece from Angela's fingers, babbling at anyone or anything he saw. To any passerby, we would have looked like a normal husband, wife, and child sitting on a park bench enjoying the fall weather.

Looks could be deceiving.

In reality she was a person of interest, I was an FBI agent, and we were both tangled in the same murder case. In spite of the tension that stretched between us, it still felt right being with her. I tried to keep old emotions from resurfacing by keeping things between us strictly business, but the more time I spent with them the harder it was to do so. Whenever I thought of tomorrow, I panicked from the unknown.

I believed she hadn't killed Ronnie…but whoever had was still out there, and Angela could possibly be on their radar, which meant my son was as well.

When Nicholas became fussy, Angela said it was almost his naptime and we should head back. On the walk back to her apartment, she picked up on my mood and filled in the voids with little bits of information about my son. His favorite toy was anything with wheels. He loved bananas smeared with peanut butter. He hated every orange vegetable of any kind.

“In fact”—she smiled at a memory—“he hated most jarred baby food. When he was six months old, I had to ask the doctor if it was okay to give him regular food. After he got his first taste of ice cream, and after he realized I kept it in the big silver box in the kitchen, he knew I had been holding out on him.”

At the sound of the word, Nicholas began kicking his feet while crying, “Kreem, kreem.”

“Oh boy, he heard me.” She leaned closer and whispered, “He's truly like an addict on crack. I can't get it in his mouth quick enough.”

I laughed picturing him opening his mouth wider for her in between demanding more. “How much did he weigh at birth?”

“Eight pounds, ten ounces.”

“Is that big?” I asked, really not having a clue.

She giggled at my ignorance. “Hell yeah, it was for a vaginal birth. He tore me up.” Her cheeks tinged pink and she bit her lip. “Um…sorry. TMI. It's true what they say, the minute it's over you forget every bit of the pain you endured.”

The visual of Angela giving birth to our son invaded my thoughts. “I wish I'd been there,” I voiced out loud, feeling resentment once again. The pendulum swinging between anger toward her and desire for her was starting to make me dizzy.

“Mama, kreem!” Nicholas persisted from his stroller.

“If you take your nap like a good boy, you can have ice cream when you wake up.” Her negotiation seemed to appease him. He quieted down, and by the time we got to her apartment, he was rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists.

I waited on the couch as Angela put him down for a nap. I reached for the thick photo album that sat on the side table, opening it to a picture of Angela during pregnancy. It must have been late summer because in the shot she stood sideways by a pool in a black bikini, her swollen belly protruding in front of her. She looked stunning all tanned and smiling wide. Her hands cradled her stomach while her long hair blew in the breeze behind her.

“He'll be good for a few hours. The park always exhausts him.” I looked up when she quietly closed the door behind her. She realized what I was looking at, and a blush spread across her cheeks.

“Where was this?”

“Dawn's ranch in Ohio, that was a few weeks before he arrived.”

“Beautiful.”

“It was,” she agreed, although I was referring to her. “I felt like I was at a luxury resort. I'll forever be grateful to her for taking such good care of me those months.” She sat beside me, peering over my shoulder. “God, I was huge.” Her breath fanned across my face. Her full lips were inches from mine and with one turn of my head I could've easily kissed her. Thankfully, she pulled away before I could succumb to my urge.