“Youare?” Yolanda passes her drink to the other hand, her perfectly manicured eyebrows rising to her straight-cut bangs. “Well, in that case, let me have your card. We’ve been looking for someone like you. What’s your firm called?”
As we continue talking, other parents join our little circle, and I quickly scribble down my information, heart pounding, thankful I threw together a business email for myself the other day.
“Not quite ready to accept clients yet,” I hear myself saying to them, sounding the image of total professionalism, “but you’ll be the first to know when we are.”
We quiet when someone comes walking up onto the stage, tapping the microphone before addressing the crowd.
“Hello, everyone, and welcome to the first-ever CBS Chicago Kids Christmas Performance. Before the kids come out and put on their show for you, we have a very special guest and benefactor joining us.”
I wonder who it will be—the mayor, or maybe a councilperson?—and the man who strides out onto the stage makes my jaw drop, my heart picking up to a staccato beat.
“Hello everyone,” Russell says, positioning himself in front of the microphone with the confidence of a man who does it for a living. “I’m Russell Burch.” There’s a murmur through the crowd, and Yolanda leans down to mutter to me, “Wow, even more handsome in person.”
I blink through the shock as Russell goes on, his voice booming into the microphone, “Thank you so much for coming out today. Before the kids come out, I wanted to announce BHC’s newest charitable effort, called Gus’s Fund. A collective fund with the purpose of paying for vital surgeries, targeted on kids whose families might not be able to afford life-saving care.”
The crowd erupts in applause, but my hands are hanging at my sides.
“And now, I just wanted to take this opportunity to deliver a message to the two people I love most in this world—I’ve always wanted to be a dad. I thought it wasn’t possible, but it turns out I’ve always had it within me. If you’ll have me back, I’ll never let you go again.”
The crowd is silent for a second, then there’s the sound of little feet and Gus comes running out onto the stage, his light up shoes flashing under his wise man costume.
I watch, my heart nothing but jelly in my chest, as Gus launches himself at Russell, and the man turns, catching Gus in his arms and holding him like a father might hold his son.
Desperately. The way I held Gus that day in the ER.
Like he’s never going to let him go.
“Jules?” Yolanda is saying, but I can’t hear her—either through the roaring in my head, or the sound of the crowd around me. “Isn’t thatyour son?”
I nod and push past her, body finally reacting, feet steering me in the direction of the stage.
There have been a lot of moments in the past two months that my brain froze up. Moments in which I felt like everything was out of control, like I had no idea what to do.
But right now, I walk confidently toward the stage.
I thought it wasn’t possible, but it turns out I’ve always had it within me. If you’ll have me back, I’ll never let you go again.
Somehow, some way, Iknowthat he did the DNA test. That he knows the truth about Gus. That my gut instinct was right all this time.
I need to get to the stage, need to hear it for myself.
On the stage, the host comes back, thanking Russell and introducing the stars of the play, including Gus. I go faster, trying to cover the insurmountable distance as the play starts up on the stage. I’ve practiced Gus’s lines with him enough times that I know exactly what each kid is going to say before the words come to their mouth.
Security lines the side of the stage, and as I walk toward them, I think about how I’ll flash my badge at them when I get near. How, if they ask me what I’m doing, I’ll tell them the truth.
That I need to talk to my son’s father as soon as physically possible.
Chapter 39
Russell
Gus is a natural.
I know this because even after my big announcement on the stage, even though half my brain is thinking about Jules and where she is, what she thought, and if she’s going to take me back, most of me is consumed in watching this kid on the stage.
He moves around like he reallyisa wise man, and it’s captivating. For the play, they’ve whipped up a twist on the classic nativity scene, something a little more modern and inclusive of other religions and winter celebrations. It’s very morning show, but also pretty funny. I’m impressed with their ability to really make something that appeals to everyone.
What must only be ten minutes later, the play is ending, and I’m clapping for Gus, a tear in my eye at the sight of him on the stage, doing what brings him joy.
