Odd Ball Out (6 page)

My expression was haunted as our gazes met while Morgan’s was furious. His anger gave me courage and strength to keep going.

HADEN: before then, I’d had wet dreams but never thought much of them. Sometimes it would be hard in the morning but after I’d use the toilet it was normal again. I never felt any desire to… use my hand as you so eloquently put it.

I watched Morgan choke out an amused chuckle but it was short lived when his eyes found mine again.

HADEN: well what she did hurt bad at first

I saw Morgan gasp and bite his lip, tears brimming. Seeing how much he cared… I felt my own dam starting to crumble and knew I needed to just finish this

HADEN: it hurt a lot at first, then it didn’t hurt as much, then something inside me made it feel good. Between her hands and mouth and what she was doing in my ass she got me hard. As soon as she’d try to get on me I’d go soft again. So she had to figure out how to keep me stimulated while on me. She got creative with a fake plastic thing. That was the first time. It was about a month later when it happened again. It was 4 months before she got what she wanted. Pregnant. Then she cried rape to my parents. They bought her off after only after she had the baby and she signed over her parental rights. So I had a kid at 16 years old after I’d been raped five times. No, my mom doesn’t know exactly what happened just that I hate Mallory’s mother.

MORGAN: can I hold you now please Haden? Please?

I drop my phone onto the mattress and pull him close. Our bodies are flush, especially our groins and chests. It feels so good I never want to stop. “M-Morgan.” I say his name because there’s so much of him inside me something has to get let out or I’m going to explode. He says softly, “Haden. I hate that that happened to you. I’m so sorry. I wish…” He trails off and shakes his head before hugging me tighter. I want to know, “w-w-what?”

I feel him shake his head and pull back a bit. I’m startled to see his face completely flushed. I grab my phone.

HADEN: you wish what? Why are you blushing?

MORGAN: I wish you could have a new first time

HADEN: oh

I have no idea what else to say. How can I have a new first time? Would it make a difference to have a different experience… maybe with one adorably charming green eyed pixie? I bite my lip and decide to take a page out of Morgan’s playbook.

HADEN: you offering?

I see Morgan’s eyes fly to mine and I’m terrified but exhilarated but scared to death but overly excited and I have no idea what Morgan reads on my face before he goes back to typing

MORGAN: you asking?

HADEN: cheeky minx, what if I was

MORGAN: what if I was offering

HADEN: are you

MORGAN: maybe, are you?

HADEN: maybe

We leave it at that for now, neither of us willing to go farther, happy to flirt and enjoy each other. Morgan slides off my lap and sits down next to me. I imagine his knees were getting sore, I know my legs were. He starts texting.

MORGAN: Mallory

HADEN: It’s terrible, I guess, but I just don’t feel anything for the kid. He might as well be a stranger. I know he’s mine, my parents did blood testing, of course, but I don’t feel anything.

MORGAN: do you feel anything for your mom?

HADEN: yeah

MORGAN: what

HADEN: well, I appreciate her help

MORGAN: do you feel emotions for her like love, warmth, tenderness

HADEN: I think so?

MORGAN: have you ever felt anything you’re sure about?

HADEN: anger

MORGAN: what about toward me?

HADEN: that’s a loaded question Morgan

MORGAN: well, I’m basically half in love with you, so I’m kind of a sure bet, I have a theory though so just go with me on this

I snap my gaze to Morgan. His head is bowed and I see how hard the admission was for him to make even though he made it sound lighthearted and offhanded. His body is rigid and shaking. I blurt without thinking, “what?”

Morgan looks miserable and I can see his lower lip trembling. He’s turning his phone in his hands so fast I know he’s going to drop it any second. Then he’s talking and I forget about the phone, “you’re so kind Haden. Gentle, caring, sweet. I know you know I sleep on your floor at night.” I suck in a shocked breath, but he’s already continuing, “but you haven’t said anything to make me feel embarrassed. You haven’t pushed me. You’ve let me touch you and hold you and I know it’s such an amazing and special gift from you and yeah, Haden, I know we haven’t know each other long enough and I’m your employee but... I do. I love you.”

I am speechless. Granted, not really a new thing for me. So, let’s just say my mind is a complete blank. I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know what I think. I sure as hell don’t know what to do now. Actually, there was something I was wondering. I start typing.

HADEN: why do you sleep on my floor?

MORGAN: I don’t feel safe alone. I can sleep if I’m near someone else and I feel safe with you.

HADEN: sleep in the bed then, it’s big enough for both of us

MORGAN: I don’t think that would be a good idea

HADEN: ?

I watched as Morgan struggled to type a reply. He kept deleting everything he wrote. I said as kindly as I could, “t-tell m-m-me.”

Morgan looks at me, finally. His face said he felt helpless, lost and alone. I moved back behind him, laying down on the bed and stretching out on my side. He shot me a confused look but then I held my arms out and without a second’s hesitation he was curling his smaller body right into my chest, his head pillowed on my arm, head tucked under my chin. I use my free arm at his lower back to pull him tight and flush against me and hear him moan, which he cuts off abruptly. I try to convey how I feel in one word since that’s all I can do, “n-nice.”

That seems to reassure him because he breathes freer and I feel his body relax into mine. His shifts, trying to get his legs comfortable. Instinctively, I lift my leg and he slides his knee forward, right under my balls. I rest my leg back down gently on his but ask quickly, “o-o-okay?”

I feel Morgan nod his head. I use my free hand now to brush his hair off his face and trace the outer edge of his ear, down his jaw, down the line of his throat, over his adam’s apple and over his shoulder, gliding my palm down his arm and around his back. I stroke his back in smooth and slow strokes. I’m more content than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

Is this love? Laying in the arms of someone you never want to let go? Enjoying his scent? The feel of his skin and body heat next to mine? Wanting to make him happy no matter what? Wanting to touch him, know him body and soul? Wanting him to touch me and know me the same way? I’m pretty sure it is and I think I love Morgan too.

I swallow thickly before pulling away a bit and tilting his chin up so I can see him when I tell him, “I l-love you too.” Morgan’s smile lights up my body from the inside out and I know no other emotion I’ve ever had can compare to how he makes me feel with just his smile. Morgan lifts up his face and right before our lips meet I realize his intention and reflexively pull back.

I see the hurt and confusion before he disengages from me and turns to leave, “w-w-w-wait!”

I think Morgan turns back to me but I’ve already started typing.

HADEN: its not what you think. I want to…

I look up at him helplessly and shake my head. I know I look desperate and scared because his mask falls and I see Morgan’s kind and caring nature pour forth as he sits down next to me once more.

MORGAN: does it have to do with her

HADEN: yeah

MORGAN: oh

HADEN: I’m sorry, I’ll try, I think I can. I just was startled. I do want to kiss you

My face is flaming and I don’t know why. I know he’s wanted to kiss me but putting it down in words like that just makes it seem so… ordinary. Not special and perfect and wonderful like Morgan. Ordinary was her, I felt nothing but disgust and nausea. Morgan is everything good about feelings.

MORGAN: its okay… so I think now I understand why it’s hard for you to be around Mallory

HADEN: yeah

MORGAN: but your mom is leaving soon and if I understand it correctly, Mallory is living here with you full time, right?

HADEN: yes

MORGAN: have you ever been in his room?

HADEN: no, why would I?

MORGAN: have you ever done anything with him, just the two of you?

HADEN: no

MORGAN: here’s the deal Haden. I have to give this to you straight and it’s going to hurt.

HADEN: um okay

MORGAN: My dad never bothered to acknowledge my existence. He was a one-time john so my mom could get her next fix. She told him I was his but he didn’t care. Never wanted anything to do with me. When I finally got scooped up by foster care they called him and told him all about how I’d been living, what I’d had to do to survive, offered to do paternity testing. He told them he couldn’t care less about me and not to bother calling again. It killed something inside of me Haden. Not being wanted by your own parent… it’s unbearable. That rejection, that hurt and humiliation of being completely unwanted, unworthy of their love… you can’t do that to Mallory. I don’t think you understand how much you’ve already hurt him.

I am openly crying. I didn’t know. I didn’t understand. I say to myself desolately, “I thought he was better off without me.”

Morgan responds immediately, “no, Haden, he’s not. He doesn’t understand why you hate him when he loves you so much. When I spend time with him all he does is talk about you. How you make these cool video games and how he wants to grow up and be just as big and strong and smart as you.”

I drop my head into my hands, shaking it. I can’t take anymore. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. No one explained. I didn’t know.

I feel Morgan’s tentative light touch on my arm and I lean toward him, seeking his comforting embrace even though I know I don’t deserve it. “M-Morgan.”

He replies gently, fondly, “yeah baby?” I smile a little at the endearment. I like it a lot. Then I remember what I need to do, “h-help m-m-e f-f-f-ix it.” Morgan leans down and kisses my temple before responding warmly and happily, “I can do that. Ready to start now?”

Oh god. I sit up and clutch my stomach. Not sure yet if I need to run to the toilet.

Morgan murmurs, “maybe not just yet, huh?”

I shoot him a grateful look.

Chapter 7

The next morning is Saturday and my mom left officially last night, but she’ll be back each day to check on her ‘boys’ as she likes to refer to the three of us. It’s been a week since Morgan and I told each other of our feelings. He’s not been pushy about Mallory at all, but I know he wants me to try. So I asked him to make French toast and we’re all just now sitting down at the table.

Mallory is quiet. I’ve noticed that lately. If I’m around he doesn’t talk, keeps his eyes down, but if it’s just him and my mom or Morgan he’s a little chatter box. To my surprise, he really does talk about me. I’m staring at my six year old son that’s a complete stranger to me when Morgan catches my eye and nods toward Mallory encouragingly.

I sit up a bit straighter and think about what to say, what to ask. “M-Mallory, s-sleep g-g-good?”

I see his fork drop, clattering loudly against his plate. He slowly raises his eyes to meet mine and I’m shocked. He has my eyes. Mallory… my son. My son has my eyes. The same color, almost the same shape, even his eyebrows are a mirror image of my own, albeit smaller.

I’m staring at him as hard as he’s staring at me but finally he replies, “um, good. How ‘bout you Haden?” I’m confused that he doesn’t call me father or dad, but why would he? I haven’t been either of those things to him. I don’t deserve to be called his father or dad. I try not to let my thoughts show on my face when I reply, “g-good.”

We break the eye contact and everyone goes back to eating. We’re almost done and I’m feeling the sweet freedom of escape looming when Morgan destroys all my hopes, “Haden, Mall and I are going to play Candyland after I get breakfast cleaned up. Would you like to join us?”

No. No. No. FUCK NO.

I glare at Morgan and he gives me an innocent look back, then I turn to Mallory, who is immobile, his face clearly expresses naked longing and desperation for my attention, my time, my affection and love. I feel like a complete fuck up. I know this kid would be better off without me, but apparently I’m all he’s got so I have to give it my all, “y-yes.”



Candyland is the dumbest game ever invented. Forward, back, forward, back. I was bored out of my freaking mind. This was the least interesting thing I’d ever done in my entire life. There was no skill, no strategy, just luck of the draw. I was bouncing all over the place and couldn’t talk at all because my anxiety and desire to leave was so bad.

Then, Mallory looked at me with a sad smile and told me with regret in his voice, “it’s okay Haden. I know you don’t want to play with me. You can go.” That was the first time I felt an emotion toward Mallory. It was pride. He was sacrificing his enjoyment because his crazy father couldn’t sit still and was obviously miserable. I take out my cell phone.

HADEN: can you tell him what I say?

MORGAN: of course

HADEN: do you understand what autism is?

Morgan smiles a bit and turns to a confused Mallory. He’d watched our interaction with the phones and thought it strange. Morgan tells him, “your dad has a hard time with talking, especially when he’s nervous, so we use texting a lot so he can still talk.

Mallory nodded at Morgan tentatively, still unsure.

Morgan continued, “I’m sure you’ve noticed your dad isn’t like other dads.” Another nod. Morgan explains, “he has something called autism, do you know what that is?”

I’m surprised when Mallory nods and responds, “yeah, grandma explained it to me. He has trouble dealing with people, that’s why he can’t love me like other dads. But he hugs you Morgan, does that mean he can hug me now too?”

I stand and go over to kneel on one knee on the floor next to Mallory’s chair, opening my arms to him for a hug. A huge grin splits his face before his little body crashes into mine, his skinny arms so tight around my neck I’m actually having trouble breathing. I chuckle a bit and wrap my arms gently around him, holding him close. Its odd because there’s something familiar about his smell. I think about it for a bit as I hold him.

I see Morgan move out of the corner of my eye and look at him directly. He’s using a napkin to blot the tears streaming down his face. I wink at him and he blows out a huff of air on a startled laugh. Too soon, Mallory is pulling out of my arms but taking my hand, “want to come see my room dad?”

I watch his face freeze in fear so I try to answer, “y-y-yeah, g-g-g-great.” His smile is brilliant and he pulls me along with all the enthusiasm of a six year old boy on a mission to share all his favorite toys with his father. I feel my heart clench as we arrive because I see everything and I don’t know where any of it came from. I’ve never given him so much as a card. How could I have been so selfish? So stupid, stubborn, so blind?

I feel two gentle hands fall on my shoulders and squeeze as I stand in the doorway of my son’s room for the first time in his life. I don’t even know what to do. He’s rambling a mile a minute and I’m just feeling more anxious. Morgan slides by me and plops right on the floor with Mallory, both of them building with Legos. I take a tentative step forward and sit down hesitantly. Mallory finds another box of Legos and dumps it in my lap.

Morgan starts laughing. I’m guessing because my expression was incredulous. Then I see the worried look on Mallory’s face and again feel like a dick, “t-thank you.” He looks happy again, whew. I start rummaging around to see what I’ve got. Ideas start tumbling about upstairs and before I know it my stomach is growling. I look at my watch and see’s it’s already 1pm. Wow. I’ve been here playing Legos with my son for like three hours.

I glance up to see that Morgan is gone, but Mallory is hard at work on something, but I can’t tell what it is. I ask him, “w-what…” and point at what he’s made. He understands and beams, “it’s a submarine, like on the video game you made.” I smile at him and reply nodding at his creation, “i-it’s g-good.” He beams again and asks what I’d built, so I reply proudly, “t-tank.” He tells me its okay and I laugh, guess he’s got high standards. Nothing wrong with that.

Morgan calls us down for lunch so we both pop up and head down stairs. I wash up at the sink but notice Mallory didn’t. I tell him firmly but with a smile, “h-hands” and hold up my wet hands. He immediately jumps up and races to the bathroom to wash his hands while I dry mine on a kitchen towel. I hang it up and glance up, surprised to see Morgan starting at me with a hard look.

Then he’s in my arms and I’m worried, “o-o-o” I take a deep breath, “o-okay?” He just nods. Mallory comes back in and I see his wistful look before I take one arm from Morgan’s back and smilingly motion Mallory to us. He comes over shyly, but I pull him right into my side, rubbing his back.

And that’s how my mom finds us when she comes in the front door. No one moves away but Mallory shouts, “hi grandma! Dad’s hugging and talking to me now and we played Candyland and Legos! I built a submarine and he built a tank. It was okay. Then he made me wash my hands. Are you going to have lunch with us?”

My mom was behind me and wasn’t saying anything, even after Mallory’s diatribe. I was getting worried and so pulled back from my guys and—.

Yeah. My guys. I liked that. I liked it a lot.

I turned to see my mom crying, “what’s w-wrong?” We all went to her. Mallory hugged her waist, Morgan patter her shoulder and I took her hand, “m-mom?”

My mom stammered, “Haden. My god.”

I looked at Morgan in confusion. I had no idea what I’d done or what was going on. I looked back at my mom, “what?”

She cried, “I can count on one hand how many times you’ve let me hug you Haden. Now…”

Oh. Was she, like, jealous? “I’m s-s-sorry.”

She laughed, shaking her head, “don’t be sorry you ninny! It’s wonderful!”

Then she turned to Morgan and took his face in her hands, my little dude was even shorter than my mom. It was kind of funny and I couldn’t hold back a smirk. I caught Mallory’s eye and by his matching smirk I was pretty certain we were amused by the same thing.

My mom was crying, tears running down her face as she told Morgan, “he read through hundreds of responses to his craigslist ad. The second he’d finished reading yours he was downstairs and making all sorts of rushing motions to get me upstairs to call you. He knew even then how important you were. You’re a miracle worker Morgan. You’re our miracle.” Then she kissed his cheek and pulled him tight for a hug. I felt a small hand slip into my own and squeezed gently before smiling down at my son.

He was a person to me now. Not an abstract idea. But a little guy that looked and even acted a bit like me. That really needed me, the crazy autistic anxiety ridden dad with whom he’d been saddled. I realized that I needed him to. I needed to have more worthy goals in my life than just going through the motions. Programming is fun, but it doesn’t chase away the grey of loneliness, not like my guys do.