This is supposed to be a stand alone story, but can be seen as an unauthorised sequel to one of Just Plain Bob's stories, "Forget Living Well". JPB writes good stories, and I read most of them, but sometimes he goes far overboard. To use an innocent child as a tool for revenge on a cheating wife is not acceptable. In the case of "Forget living well" he does that, and doing so serves a good story idea on a platter. I hope you forgive me JPB, but you asked for it.
Many thanks to angel love for her editing skills and good advice once again.
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Sitting on a bench in the park, I was watching my little girl running around chasing soap bubbles. I had a bittersweet smile on my face. I loved the little charmer, at the same time I hated her. It was now two years since my divorce, and two and a half years after the birth of Jane. I had born the pregnancy with joy, fully believing the little growing bud inside me was the result of hefty lovemaking between my husband Frank and myself.
In the delivery room after several hours labor, pushing the child out, hearing the strong wail from the new-born, I was relieved - another healthy child I hoped. Before cutting the cord, the midwife laid the infant to my chest and told me with a genuine smile that I had delivered a fine girl. I looked lovingly at her, but got the shock of my life, as I saw a baby with black hair, darker skin than to be expected, and clearly Negroid features. I fainted. You see Frank and myself are white, and I had never had sex with a black guy, or at least that was what I believed.
I shook my thoughts away, and looked at her again. Would I ever be able to tell her who her father is? Probably not.
As the last few Saturday mornings I saw the nice and handsome looking black guy coming hand in hand with the little boy Jane liked to play with. He was around three years old I would guess, pulling his fathers hand toward the playground, eager to join Jane in her play. Well into the playground he let go of his father and ran over to my girl, and together they chased the soap bubbles she made from her dispenser.
Unlike what he usually did, sitting down on a bench on the other side of the playground, he instead walked toward me.
"As our children are playing so well together" he said, "maybe we could chat a bit?" He reached out his hand, and said; "I'm Jacob, Jack for short, do you mind if I sit down next to you?"
"Of course not, your welcome," I replied, "and I'm Mandy by the way."
We had a very nice Saturday morning, watching our children play, and talking about all and nothing.
The bench we sat on became our meeting place, as every Saturday morning while our children played, we talked about our every day life and the small trivialities and sometime the more serious problems. You see, over the next few weeks, Jack told me bit by bit how he lost his wife in a car accident and how he tried to cope being a single parent for a small boy. I also learned that he was a lawyer, and spent long hours in his office and therefore must have a live in nanny for George, his son. The weekends he always tried to spend quality time with him, he was obviously a good father.
I in turn did the listening, and told very little about my problems, so that's why one day he turned toward me and said, "Mandy, I have told you a lot about myself and my situation. You have volunteered very little about yourself. I have gathered you are divorced, and that you are not all that happy about your present situation. I see sometimes a sad smile on your face when you look at your girl. Will you tell me a little about your problems? I suspect they are connected with her and her father, am I right?"
"I'm sorry if you feel I am holding back on you. Yes you are right, and I think it might be a good idea to tell somebody before I go crazy. But not here and not now. I have to compose myself and I need to be in a place without the children. I might cry a bit," I replied.
"OK," Jack said, "this is what we can do. One evening next week you bring over your daughter to my house and George's nanny can baby sit both of them. I will take you to a nice restaurant for dinner. The place I'm thinking about has a moderate background noise, and partly screened booths so we can have privacy and you can cry without making a scene. If you accept you can tell as much or as little as you choose, and I will promise to listen to you with an open mind."
"Thank you , that's kind of you. You just decide when, I'm always free after work and I know it sounds pathetic, I should have pulled myself together and started socializing a long time ago, but I haven't. I never go out."
"Very good, I will call you Monday morning after I have seen my week's work schedule, and found a suitable day. If you find that you do not want to tell me much, then at least I have succeeded to get you out one evening," he replied with a smile.
He called as promised Monday, and we had agreed on Wednesday. So Wednesday after work, when I told Jane that we should visit George in his house, she was ecstatic. She couldn't wait to get out of the door.
Standing outside Jack's house with Jane I was a bit nervous. This was not a date in its normal sense, but it was such a long time since I had been out dining in the company of a man. I had dressed demurely, but with style. When I had looked at myself in the mirror before leaving, I saw a lady I hadn't seen for some time, and I had said to myself: "Mandy, you are not bad looking. You can get yourself a man if you want to." But the sad thing is, I'm not ready - yet. With a sigh, I pushed the doorbell.
Jack opened the door, and after a brief pause exclaimed, "Wow, you are classy tonight. You are a beautiful woman. I'm already looking forward to be seen with you." He turned toward Jane and continued, "And you my girl, you will have a good time with George, and Maria will take good care of you while your Mom and I go out for a while."