Wednesday, spring 2009.
So I did it. Just after closing you yesterday, dear diary. I called Sam Sekemoto and invited him over. I knew it wouldn’t be an easy conversation, but I could not imagine how hard it would be or how it would end. But I had to do it; I wouldn’t allow my kid to be raised in a house without a father or in a house with a father that wasn’t hers or his. If being attached to Leighton meant being attached to Sam… so… I would live with it.
The first thing I did when he arrived was telling him that I was aware of the truth. He was Leighton’s son, information I lacked when we had our family dinner. I also announced him my pregnancy – as if it wasn’t obvious. He, by his side, sustained his silent manners – even though now he wasn’t a teenager anymore. He had grew into a young adult while I was getting married to his father and calling the stork to bring me a baby.
I was a bit apprehensive and I didn’t even thought about inviting him in. I had a proposition to make that would ease my life and his as well. It was a splendid idea – at least for me. And I presented it to Sam while we’re both still standing by my front door. I knew the old Leighton’s house was to sale and I supposed Leighton was expecting that money to both finish our own house and buy an apartment to his son. But wouldn’t it be better to built a great house and save some money if we all lived together?
But he didn’t react all so well. He started shouting saying I was responsible for his precocious development into a young adult. He had to take care of himself since Leighton had moved in with me. He also added he wouldn’t deny his roots as I was willing him to do. Oh, yes, diary, for my splendid idea to work I would need Sam to cooperate with me and never reveal to the kid I was yet giving birth that he was Leighton’s son. Come on, it seemed a good idea!
He would move in with us, he would have a whole house area all to himself for free and in exchanged I only asked him to act as “uncle Sam”. He would still be around his father, he would still share a life under the same roof as our family but he would need to get used to call Leighton by… Leighton. Instead of daddy or so. It wasn’t that difficult!
Leighton, who was taking a nap inside, woke up to our voices. He showed by the door and greeted Sam. The boy turned all the news to him. He was sure expecting Leighton to be furious and who knows what… break the marriage? But it just didn’t happen. Leighton started talking and calming him down. He added he wasn’t aware of what I was about to propose – and glanced at me in disbelief. Sam seemed upset, but more prone to talk and be convinced of whatever.
Leighton could understand his son’s anger: Sam was raised to always tell the truth. But Leighton was growing old and life had teach him some lessons. Being a kid from a divorced couple isn’t easy; questions such as “Where’s your daddy?” or “Why did your parents split up?” always arise to remind of the days one would prefer to forget. Sam, on the contrary, had been leading a comfortable and easy life. Sure having a grandmother and a father as a whole family wasn’t the most common family arrangement in the valley, but at least he grew up with both a male and a female presences. I’m sure Yumi was ever there to him when Leighton couldn’t due his work.
Trying to “undo” the bad impression I had caused – as he himself said – Leighton complimented Sam for his appearance. He had grew into a strong young adult. The boy smiled, flattered. He said both of us were glad he accepted the invitation to visit us and that uniting the family again was the only thing that mattered. So, he reminded Sam of some old bathroom jokes Yumi used to tell – and how would be nice if they could pass this “family knowledge” to the next generations. Well, I don’t know if I want my kids to have such knowledge and grow to be inappropriate ones… but the argument seemed good and pleased Sam, who ended accepting to move in when his father proposed it.
Leighton didn’t make any references to my terms. So… the terms in which Sam moved in remained unclear. But I’m afraid my perfect family will have a more crooked beginning than I have ever imagined.