The Penthouse

She made her way to the car. When she got in, Dylan and Ash were having an Italian conversation. "Mama! Mr. Dylan speaks Italian! Isn't that cool? He knows more words than me, but I'll learn."

"I have been speaking it a little longer than you, so I have an advantage."

"Mama is teaching me. She's really smart."

Dylan looked at Lena. She recognized the look on his face. He was pissed at her. "The penthouse is only ten minutes from here."

He didn't say anything, all he did was glare at her. Her stomach clenched. She needed an excessively big, extraordinarily strong drink.

"Maybe you should say it in Italian," Asher said.

Dylan smiled at him. "Can you say it to me?"

"Some of it. Dieci minuti a casa nostra."

"That works. Thanks for the information, Sport."

Dylan looked out the window, taking in the surroundings. He had been through this part of town before but never took too much stock in it. He was looking anywhere but at Lena. His emotions were all over the place. The last thing he wanted to do was unload on her with Ash in the car.

Ten minutes later, they arrived. The building was about twenty-eight floors.

A man in a uniform opened the door for them. "Ms. Baxter. You are looking beautiful as always."

"Are you looking for a raise, Charles?"

"Always, but looking at you is a wonderful perk of the job."

Dylan watched as she blushed. She really didn't realize how fucking beautiful she really is.

The lobby was stunning, with marble floors and high-end furniture. Large potted plants and fresh flower arrangements adorned the walls. She was greeted by several people who I assumed were fellow residents.

The three of them got into the elevator. Lena handed Ash her key, and he turned it in the slot next to the P1 on the call pad.

"This is a big building," Dylan said to no one in particular.

"Mama owns it. It's an investment opportunity. She owns a couple of buildings. Mama says the real money is in property."

How old is this kid again? I better watch what I say around him. He's like a sponge. Dylan looked at Lena. "Really?"

She gave him a halfhearted smile and shrugged her shoulders.

"You need a key. It's a little extra security. I always get to turn the key." Asher said, watching the number rise as the elevator ascended.

"Good to know."

"I have to get the key from Cutler so you can have your own. I do, however, suggest that you still let Asher do it when you two are together."

"I want to have something to put on my resume as a special skill," he said with all seriousness.

The elevator opened up to a beautiful foyer. Asher ran to the door directly ahead. "The door opens with a keypad. I get to open it, too. The code is my birthday."

"Really, when is that?" Dylan asked.

Before Lena could say anything, Asher blurted out, "April 10, 2018. I am 5 years, 7 months, and 2 days. I was born at 11:02 a.m. on a Tuesday, and I have been alive for 2,103 days."

"So, 41018?"

"That's correct. Why don't you give it a try? I won't be here all the time. I stay at my dad's every other week now. You might need the practice."

Lena didn't have the heart to tell him about what happens after Mama and Dad are divorced. Maybe if I tell him in Italian, maybe he will take it better. Maybe I should tell Dylan his news in Italian, too.

Dylan put in the code and opened the door. The penthouse was amazing. It must have been about four thousand square feet. It was recently renovated. It was an open floor plan. Making it look even bigger.

The kitchen alone had to be five hundred square feet. It was set up as a chef's kitchen. She always loved to cook. I miss us cooking together. We would stop what we were doing because one of our favorite slow songs used to come on, and we would hold each other close and dance with each other. I can't believe I let her go.

The living room was decorated in black and red: couches, pillows, artwork. There were drawings framed and on the wall—Asher's art installation, no doubt. A television that had to be ninety inches mounted on the wall had three different game systems and enough games to open a game stop. She had pictures scattered around the room. Dylan took notice and made a mental note to look at every one of them.

"Want to see my room!" Asher started to drag Dylan to the best of his ability. "You know you are like a giant. Did you play football? Or maybe climb beanstalks?"

"I did. I was the quarterback for the US Army football team. And I have never climbed a beanstalk, but I have climbed mountains before."

"Really? My daddy was a quarterback, too, for Navy. So, my guess is you two won't get along very well. I went to a rock-climbing wall last summer. I didn't get to the top, but I'm stronger now, so if I try again this summer, I should be golden."

Actually, kid, I'm pretty sure your daddy played for Army.

Asher opened the door. "Here it is! The best room in the house!"

"Wow." Every available inch of the wall was covered in posters—NFL and MLB players, bands, movies, and cartoon characters. "You have a lot of interests, don't you?"

"Variety is the spice of life, Mr. Dylan." He hopped up on his bed.

He walked around looking at everything. There were mounted shelves and bookshelves adorned with trophies and photos. He didn't have a TV. "No TV?"

"No. Mom said my room is for sleeping and reading. Studies show that people who don't have a TV in their room fall asleep faster and sleep better."

"Interesting. Can I look at your trophies and your pictures?"

"Sure. Come on." He hopped off the bed and walked Dylan around the large room. "This picture is of my mom when she was younger and had more energy. That's what she says." The picture was of Lena standing in front of a rollercoaster with a huge smile on her face. "Mom loves rollercoasters. This was at... Umm. I forgot what the place was called."

"Cedar Point. In Ohio."

"Yeah! How did you know?"

I took the picture. "I've been there. It was a lot of fun."

"Mama said she would take me as soon as I am four feet tall. I only have nine and a half more inches to go!"

"You are a little tall for your age."

"Mama said it's in my genes. She's tall for a girl. My Dad is tall, too, but not as tall as you are."

Actually, I think he might be.

"Here are my trophies. All of them were earned, not given." He smiled. I'm the real deal.

Dylan laughed. "Smart and funny.".

"I'm cute too. And precocious, according to Mama." He gave a wide smile. "Here are my awards. I play a mean piano. I wanted to play drums, but Mama said no. Actually, she said a bad word in Italian, and then no. She said she gets enough headaches at work. She doesn't need one when she gets home. Here's another picture of Mama. That's me as a baby. Wasn't I adorable? Mama says I was. Here's a picture of my dad when he played football."

Dylan looked at the picture. It was of Cole on the sidelines. In the foreground of the picture, large as life, was Dylan. He was on the field about to run a play. Then there was another picture with Cole running a play, and Dylan was on the sideline talking to his coach. What are the odds of that? He wondered if maybe she had these pictures on purpose.

"You know what Sport? See that guy right there? That's me. And look at the guy back there. That's me too."

"Wow. What a cowinkiedink! So, you do know my dad."

"Not really. But I did play against him a couple of times."

"Who won?"

"Unfortunately for your dad, while I was playing, Army won every time. Maybe when you get older, you can play professional ball."

"No. I want to be a Marine. They have the best uniforms, and chicks dig them."

Dylan laughed loudly and tussled Asher's hair. "Well, no one's perfect."

"Are you going to stay for dinner?"

"Didn't you just eat lunch?"

"I spit most of it in my napkin, and then when Dad went to the bathroom, I threw the rest in the trash. Morgan is the worst cook in the world. She tries, but she doesn't try hard enough. It's hard to compete with my mom's cooking. She is a master chef. And it's Pizza Saturday. I need to save all the room I can. I might have three pieces tonight."

"What are your favorite toppings, Sport?"

"Mild yellow ring peppers and black olives."

"Really? Mine too! Does your mom still like mushrooms and onions?"

"Yeah. How did you know that?"

Lena interrupted them. "Hey, guys. How's the tour going to it?"

"Mama you aren't going to believe this, but Mr. Dylan is in the football pictures of Dad."

"Is he really? Wow. What an amazing cowinkiedink."

"I said the same thing, and I invited him to stay for pizza. He likes the same stuff on his pizza as I do, and he knew what your favorite toppings are!"

"Oh. Umm. I guess if he wants to stay, he can. Let me give him the rest of the tour. Why don't you go watch some ESPN."

"Can I? Awesome." Asher took off out of the room, his curls bouncing.

"Hell of a coincidence, Lena."

"I guess it is. Come on, let me show you the rest of the house."

He followed her as she led him down hallways and opened doors while peeking into each room. "Here is the bathroom. Here's the makeshift home gym."

"Wow. Nice. I guess you still work out a lot."

"You saw me at Trinity. What do you think?"

"You looked good enough to eat." Fuck did I just say that out loud!

She looked at him. "You had your chance if I remember correctly," she said, sounding passive.

She opened a door. "This is my room where the magic doesn't happen. Unless you count my sex life disappearing."

Her scent hit his nostrils. Lilac and Pantene. "Nice room. It definitely looks like your style."

"After I kicked Cole out, I redid the entire thing. New bed, new mattress, paint, furniture. The whole Chabang!

"So, your mattress is a virgin?" Would you shut up already! This is your boss.

"Yes. And it's going to wait till it's married." She walked around the corner down a short hallway. She came to a door with a keypad. She put in Asher's birthday again. She opened the door. "Come on in."

He walked into the room and found a small apartment, about eight hundred square feet. He walked around. There was a decent-sized kitchen, a large full bath, a living room, and a considerable-sized bedroom. It was completely furnished.

"There will be times when I will need you to stay overnight. If we have to leave early, I would prefer that you are already here as opposed to you chancing being late. So, when you do stay here this is your apartment. If you don't like any of the furnishings, I can replace them. If the mattress is uncomfortable, I can replace it. I do ask you to supply your own toiletries, and if you want to leave food here, you can stock the kitchen. Just don't leave things that might spoil. Cutler did that a couple of times. It took me forever to get the smell out. Asher thought there was a dead body in the room. You can change the entry code. Just put in Ash's birthday, hit zero twice, enter the new five-digit code, and press the pound sign."

She started back to the door. Dylan closed it and blocked her path. "We need to talk, Lena."

"About?"

"Like you told Morgan, don't piss on my leg, and tell me it's rain. I can do the math. I am pretty smart myself."

"What are you talking about." She wasn't particularly good at playing dumb. Lying was never her strong suit.

"Lena, April 10th, 2018? That is almost nine months to the day that you shipped out." He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his Google Pictures drive. He gave the phone to her and swiped through a dozen pictures. That's me and my mom. Or is that my mom and her grandson?"

She looked at the pictures. He was right. Asher looked almost exactly like him when he was little, from toddler to what he looks like today. She looked up at him. He looked angry, but tears were falling down his cheeks.

"I know. I knew it the second I saw him at Cole's. He has my hair, my eyes, my mouth. He has your nose and the shape of your face and your cute little ears, but he's mine. Tell me I'm wrong. Please tell me that you did not keep my son away from me for almost six years. Did you ever try to find me? Does Cole know?"

She nodded. "That's why he sought you out and hired you. He thought he could stick it to me one last time and make my life a living hell. He knew if he made you my personal security, you would have to meet Asher."

He started pacing. "FUCK LENA!"

"Please don't yell, and please don't swear."

"At least not in English, huh? How can you do this to me? I can't believe you. And you were just going to reassign me and never tell me? I live six miles away from you, Lena, and I have for the last two years. I didn't change my name! This is why you changed your name. Because you didn't want me to find you and Asher?"

"I'm so sorry. I was so angry at you when I found you with Sowa. I didn't want a cheating bastard raising my son. I ended up leaving the Army on a medical discharge. Then there was my specialty employment that I did to support me and Ash---"

"Your son! He is my son, too! I could have supported you and Ash! I could have helped you with everything. I came into a good chunk of money when my dad died. I know I hurt you, and I know what I did was horrible, but to keep my kid from me. Jesus Christ, Lena. I could have fucked a dozen women, and I still think hiding my son from me is worse... and hurts more. My son. I have been living my life all this time, and I had a child out in the world."

"I know. I know. What I did is completely unforgivable. When I got together with Cole, he became Asher's father. That's the only father he's known. I couldn't---"

"And whose fault is that Lena!" he said through gritted teeth.

"What do you want to do now? I can reassign you. Or if you want to quit, I can give you six months' severance pay. Just let me know what you want from me."

"I want to be in my son's life. I want Ash to know I AM his father." He poked himself in the chest with his thumb.

"I just can't come out and tell him Dylan. He's five. He's smart, but he's still just a little boy."

"Why did you put pictures of me in his room? Why are half the photos he has of you from places you and I have gone? I took all those pictures. It wasn't a coincidence I am in those football photos. You had to of gotten them off the internet and had them printed. You chose them."

"I know. I guess it was a way for him to be with you, in a way."

"As you once said, that is the dumbest thing I have ever heard! If you wanted him with me, you could have just got in touch with me. I guess you are a demon because this is just evil."

"What do you want from me, Dylan? I can't go back in time. What can I do to fix this?"

"I don't know Lena. I'm not sure there is anything you can do."

There was a knock at the door. "MAMA! CAN WE PLEASE ORDER THE PIZZA! I AM WASTING AWAY OUT HERE! I THINK MY RIBS ARE SHARTING TO SHOW!"

"He really is something else."

"What that is, I don't know. Are you going to stay for dinner?"

"I would like to spend some time with my son."

He was angry. He yanked the door open, and there was Asher. The way he lurched forward when the door flew open indicated that his ear was pressed on it.

"Did I interrupt something? You weren't kissing where you?" Asher said, his face looked disgusted.

"Far from it, Sport. Let's go order you a pizza before you waste away and disappear." Dylan picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Asher screamed and laughed.

Lena stayed behind. She just stood in place, chewing on her bottom lip, desperately trying to hold back tears. I can't believe how bad I fucked this up. Well played, Cole. Well played.