My Muted Mate. *editing*

{Extra #Five.}

Years later

I was on the floor, acting like a monster in front of Jace, my little beautiful two old son who looked every bit of Scott. I’ve seen pictures of Scott as a toddler and I swear it was Jace in the picture, "I'm going to get you!” I said in a witchy like voice. Scott had just took Jaycee, our six year old daughter to kindergarten. She had his dark hair and brown eyes, but she had features of mine.

Jace squealed and ran away and I chased after him on my knees, making myself seem bigger. I caught him and tackled him to the ground, tickling and blowing at his tummy, making him giggle and squeal. Jaycee was in preschool and Scott was at work. I looked up at Jace's hazel eyes he got from me, "You going to be a good boy for mommy?”

He shook his head, "No.".

I pretended to bite at his tummy and he chuckled more, trying to push me away, "Okay then!” I said.

Suddenly the phone rang and I got up, helping Jace up. I was chuckling when I went over to the phone and picked it up, "Hello—Jace stop it, mommy on the phone. Sorry about that, hello?”

"Hello, is this Abigail Crow?” a lady on the other side of the phone asked.

I was caught off guard a little now, "Oh um, that was my maiden name. Yes, that me.”

"Oh good, I found you.” she said.

My eyebrow came together, "I'm sorry, who you are?”

"Oh, well, I'm your father wife.” she said and I froze when she mentioned my father. I ignored the slapping Jace was doing to get my attention. The old weird feeling I use to get when I was a teenager came back and I couldn't help but be afraid. "Abigail?”

"Sorry, sorry, I'm here.” she said. "Oh, um, I didn't know my father got remarried.”

"Yeah, a few years back. My name Joan, your father talked about you and your brother a lot.” she said.

I didn't know what to say, I wanted to just hang up on the women, but that would be rude and I was kind of curious to know why she was calling. Why her anyways? Why not my father? Not that would be any better, but it was a little strange. I cleared my throat, "Okay, well, um....” I didn't know what to say. I haven't seen my father in how long? Almost ten years? No word, letter, nothing. That's how I liked it though, but.... I didn't know what to think.

"I'm afraid to tell you, your father passed away two days ago.” she said and I just stood there. I wanted to jump, celebrate, through a party. Well, that's what I use to think. My whole life, I knew I couldn't wait for my father to die. But now—did I just not care anymore? It felt like being told someone you only met like three time they died. You feel bad, but you’re not sad.

"How?” I asked, curious to know what could have taken that man who was never a real father to me or Tyler.

"Well, it was cancer, but your father drank a lot.” she said.