WHOSE CHILD?

by Susan Gable

  Lexie's hands shook as she set the papers down on the quilt. David had made her Sarah's mother. Legally. And logistically, by leaving his daughter in her care. He really did love her. Tears flowed freely down her face.

  * * *

  Chapter 17

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  "Damn it, old man." David slammed one hand into the top of his desk, scattering papers. The other hand tightened around the portable phone until his knuckles turned white and the plastic housing creaked. "Where are they?"

  "Told you, I don't know exactly."

  "I'll take approximately."

  "Can't say."

  David shoved the chair away from the desk and rose to pace his home office. He paused in front of the long window. Outside, a gray Erie morning heralded the coming winter. A kid rode a bike on the quiet neighborhood street. Wet leaves littered the yards. "Please. It's Sarah's birthday."

  The old man cleared his throat. "I know that."

  "Last year I didn't even know today was her birthday. This was supposed to be the first one I spent with her. Instead, I'm back to wondering where my daughter and the woman who has betrayed me again, are."

  "I know. I'm sorry."

  David inhaled deeply. "If you hear from her, please tell her I want to at least talk to my kid on her birthday." He jabbed the Off button, then moved away from the window. Setting the phone on top of his metal file cabinet, he yanked open the second drawer and pulled out a large manila envelope. Inside, a business card with plain black printing held two phone numbers. He dialed the cell number, then resumed pacing, wearing a visible track in the nap of the cream-colored carpet. "Hello, Betty? I'm sorry to disturb you on a Saturday. This is David Mitchell."

  "David! It's good to hear from you." The private investigator hesitated. "It is good, isn't it?"

  "Uh, no, not exactly."

  In the background, David heard the shriek of children playing. "Boys, quiet down. Grandma's going into her room to take this call." The laughter and noise got softer, and a door closed. "Okay, sorry. What's going on?"

  "Guess I spooked her."

  "Oh, David." Compassion filled her voice. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

  "I wish I knew. Everything was great. Sarah…" His chest tightened and he struggled to speak. "She was fantastic. Took us a while, but we bonded. I thought Lexie and I had worked things out, too. I proposed to her."

  "But?"

  "I came home to prove to her I wasn't going to yank Sarah away from her, to prove how much I love her, offer her choices and now they're gone again."

  The rustle of paper came through the phone line. "Tell me exactly when you lost contact with them. The quicker we start looking, the more likely they won't get far."

  "The first few days after I left were fine. I called, spoke to Sarah on the phone every day. Lexie seemed fine. Not that we talked much. She said she was thinking things over. Didn't want to rush. Monday of this week was the last time I spoke to either of them. Tuesday I bought into the old man's excuses. Wednesday I started to get suspicious, but by Thursday, I just knew she wasn't there anymore."

  "You've called her family?"

  "Yeah. If they know something, they're not telling me." Not even Kenny would say if he'd talked to his sister or not.

  "Okay, David. Give me a few hours, let me make some phone calls, see what I can dig up."

  "Today's her birthday," he said. "My baby's four today."

  "I remember. Don't worry. We found them once, we'll find them again. I'll call you soon."

  "If you can't reach me at home, try my cell. I'll have it with me."

  "Will do."

  The phone returned to the base on his desk, David trotted down the stairs. In the living room, he paused just long enough to admire the picture of Sarah he'd placed prominently on the wall. The photograph from their shopping adventure. "Damn you, Lexie. I can't believe you did this to me again. You had no reason this time."

  Served him right for being a love-blind fool. An optimist. Following his heart instead of his head.

  He'd expected her to call the next day and tell him she believed him, and they'd be waiting for his return. Fool, fool, fool.

  Unable to stay in the house any longer, he marched into the kitchen, and from there, into the garage. He stabbed the overhead-door button. His leather coat hung on a coat tree. In his mind, though, he saw the pegs near the back door of the bed-and-breakfast, with Sarah's new purple coat on one of the lower hooks.

  Cursing under his breath, he slid into his SUV, cranked it to life.

  Cruising town did little to soothe him. He drove out on the Peninsula, intending to traverse all fourteen miles of roadway. In the far background, the landfill rose up, bringing to mind Sarah's wrinkled nose at learning that was what substituted for mountains in the immediate Erie area.

  He found himself turning up State Street

  , the road that divided Erie into east and west. He shifted one block west onto Peach. Signs for the Erie Zoo had him imagining taking Sarah there. Had she ever been to a zoo? Mill Creek, Montana, didn't have one. She'd probably love the train and the carousel.

  The Saturday prelunch traffic—the "Peach Jam" in local vernacular—crawled near the mall. Sarah could have a field day shopping with him there. With his luck, it probably had a purple jacket with fuzzy stuff on the hood in every department store.

  Connie's Ice Cream, the movie theaters, all things he'd intended to share with his daughter.

  He gripped the steering wheel tighter, and eventually found himself parked in front of Chuck E. Cheese. A minivan pulled next to him. A man and woman got out of the front seats, and three kids spilled from the sliding door. The woman reached back inside, retrieving a gaily wrapped present with long, multicolored ribbons that swirled in the breeze.

  David watched them enter the place he'd intended to take Sarah for her birthday celebration.

  A deep, hollow sensation crawled up from the pit of his stomach. In all the time he'd spent looking for them the first time, he'd never known pain and despair quite like this.

  Because then he could only imagine what he was missing.

  Now, he knew.

  The two-layer cake pitched to the right. Little clumps of the yellow cake showed in the chocolate frosting. David licked the spatula and nodded. He hadn't made a cake since food science class in high school. It wasn't perfect, certainly nowhere near what "Momma" would have made for Sarah, and Mrs. Wächter, his former teacher, probably would have given him a C on it, but by damn, he'd made it himself. Water splashed as he dropped the utensil into the sudsy bowl in the sink.

  When the phone jingled, he slung a dish towel over his shoulder and peered down at the caller ID display. He snatched the handset up. "Betty! That was fast. Have you found out anything?"

  "I've got a rental car in John Nonnemacher's name, on his credit card, rented from the airport in Butte. But John's at the bed-and-breakfast. So, I'd say that makes it pretty clear what she's driving, anyway."

  "Any idea where she's headed?" He kneaded the tight muscles in the back of his neck.

  "Haven't found anything else yet, but I'll keep on it. We can find out where the car gets returned to Avis. You sure you don't want to notify the police? I've got the make, model and plate. They could put out an APB, or maybe even issue an Amber Alert."

  "No! Cops swarming them would terrify Sarah. She's been through enough lately. Like you said, we found them once, we'll find them again. I have faith in you, Betty."

  "Okay, it's your call. I'll let you know ASAP if I find out anything new."

  "Thanks." After replacing the phone, he dropped the towel on the counter. He stuck pink candles into the cake, then carried it to the kitchen table. Outside the sliding door to the deck, twilight gathered. Orangey clouds streaked the sky.

  Sinking down into one of the chairs, David propped his chin in his palm. Next to the cake, the gold velvet box from the Sapphire Mine displayed the ring he'd bought for Lexie, another prop to flog himself with.

&
nbsp; God, how he missed both of them.

  How stupid could one allegedly intelligent man get?

  He glanced back to the cake. Matches. He needed matches. Fumbling through the junk drawer, he shoved aside string, tape, keys, and eventually found a battered book of matches.

  The doorbell rang.

  A small, irrational spark of hope flickered to life. Cutting through the living room, he forced himself to stroll to the front door. He flung it open. "Mom." Disappointment filled him, and he hoped it hadn't come through in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

  She pointed over her shoulder at the Lincoln parked near his mailbox. "Actually, it was your father's idea. He said it was your little girl's birthday, and he thought maybe you'd need some company. And you wouldn't answer my phone calls."

  Despite the nippy November air, his face grew warm. "Sorry, Mom." He looked out to the street. The Judge had suggested the visit?

  David opened the door wider. "Why don't you come in?" He cleared his throat. "Both of you."

  His mother arched her well-groomed eyebrows in shock. "Both of us?"

  "Yeah. Come on, it's cold out there."

  She waved at the car, motioning for his father to join them. Clad in a long woolen overcoat, the Judge strode briskly to the front step. He inclined his head in greeting. "David."

  A confusing swirl of emotions rolled through David. This man had let him down, missed out on his entire childhood. He'd been a check-writing father when it suited him.

  And yet, now David found himself in a similar position. Never in a million years had he expected to feel some connection with the Judge. "Come on in." Taking his mother's coat and hanging it in the foyer closet, he turned to accept the gray overcoat, and couldn't stop his jaw from dropping open in surprise. "You're wearing jeans?"

  Phillip Wysocki ran a hand over his hair, chuckling.

  "Yes, and I put them on one pant leg at a time like everyone else, too."

  "Guess I've only ever seen you in a suit," David muttered, embarrassed by his reaction. But it wasn't his fault he didn't know much about his old man.

  Or was it? After all, he'd been the one who'd refused to have anything to do with him once his mother had told him the truth, after the Judge's wife had died. Thirteen was a hellish time for a kid, and dropping the bombshell of his father's identity on him then hadn't helped.

  At least his mother hadn't forced it on him. And she'd waited to continue her own relationship with the man.

  It had taken him months to even phone his mother after she'd married the Judge, the pair eloping to Hawaii while David had been away at college. He'd never gone back home after that, spending summers at his apartment near school.

  Maybe it was time to put aside all the hurt he'd carried over the years and find out what his father's story really was. "You guys want some cake?"

  "That would be lovely, dear." His mother headed for the kitchen, but stopped short at the photograph on the wall. "Is that your Sarah? Oh, David, she's adorable."

  "Thanks. I think so, too, but then I'm probably biased."

  "It's not easy to have only photographs of your child."

  David turned to face the man who was his father.

  "So, why'd you settle for that while I was growing up?"

  "I think I'll make some coffee to go with the cake," his mom said, slipping into the kitchen.

  "I told you, son, that sometimes a man makes mistakes. My mistake wasn't in creating you, but in not having the courage to acknowledge you sooner and let the chips fall where they may."

  "Why didn't you?"

  "Because all my life I'd wanted to be someone important. A judge. Maybe a politician. My wife was in a car accident three years before I met your mother. The crash left her severely impaired. I had to put her in a nursing home." Creases appeared in the Judge's forehead as he frowned. "It was hard. Really hard. Some days she knew me. Most days…" He shrugged.

  "But then I met your mom." He smiled.

  David fought the impulse to step backward as a dimple appeared in the Judge's right cheek.

  "She made me feel alive again, hopeful. I shouldn't have let things go as far as they did. But I don't regret it. I don't know if I would have survived those days without your mother."

  "But the affair and an illegitimate kid?"

  "Would have ruined my chances for a bench if they'd become public knowledge. Which is why your birth certificate read 'Father Unknown.' Because your father was a coward who put his career before the people he cared about." He held out a large envelope. "Your phone call got me thinking. Hope you believe in better late than never, son."

  David took it, lifting a sheet of paper from inside.

  The raised seal of the state of Pennsylvania bumped beneath his curious fingers. "A new birth certificate? For me?" Phillip Edward Wysocki was listed under "Father's Name."

  "I hope you don't mind. After all, it is pretty late."

  "I—I don't know what to say." Besides, the huge lump in David's throat made it tough to talk. He swallowed hard.

  "Don't say anything. Except that you'll give your old man a chance to get to know his son after all these years."

  "And if it wrecks your career now?"

  His father grinned. "Scandal has become much more commonplace these days. With the right spin…" He shrugged, and the grin slowly faded. "I think you'd be worth it."

  "Sure as hell took you long enough."

  "Yes, it did. And I'm more sorry about that than you'll ever know." His father held out his hand. "What do you say?"

  David took the offered grip, letting his fingers close around his father's hand for the first time. Though he'd met with the Judge on rare occasions, they'd never shaken hands, never touched. The Judge was now willing to put his career on the line—to sacrifice—for him. "I say, nice to meet you, Dad."

  Moisture glistened in the man's brown eyes as David pumped his hand. The Judge cleared his throat. "Good." Releasing David's hand, he cuffed him on the shoulder. "What do you say we go see how your mom's making out with that coffee?"

  "Sure."

  In the kitchen, they found David's mom staring at the coffee machine as the dark liquid dripped into the pot. "Mom?"

  She turned to face them, tears coursing down her cheeks.

  "Aw, Mom. Don't. Don't cry." David rushed forward, taking his mother into his arms. "Why are you sad?"

  "I'm not." She sniffled against his chest. "I'm happy. I never thought I'd live to see this day."

  Over his mother's head, David glanced at his father, who lifted one shoulder and rolled his eyes. Women, the look said. Who could understand them?

  Not David. He was done trying.

  The doorbell rang again, twice in rapid succession. "Now who?" David asked, releasing his mother. "Be right back."

  This time when he opened the door, he discovered a huge bunch of Mylar balloons. His heart thudded against his chest wall as he glanced down. The balloons wore a purple coat with fuzzy stuff along the bottom, and farther down, a pair of ruby slippers.

  Stunned, he stood there for a moment. The balloons rustled impatiently. "What in the world?" he finally managed to say.

  The shiny silver balloons rose on a set of entwined ribbons, and Sarah's beaming face came into view. "Surprise!" she yelled. "Happy birfday, Daddy!"

  "Sarah." He rushed out onto the step, the storm door slamming behind him. The child giggled as he scooped her up into his arms. "You're here! In Erie!"

  "Easy, Daddy, the balloons will fly away!"

  He kissed her soundly on both cheeks. "I can't believe you're here."

  "We surprised you?"

  "Oh, yeah, I'm surprised all right." He glanced around. "But where's your momma?"

  Sarah's nose wrinkled. "Toto gets carsick. He barfed on the front seat right when we got here."

  David stifled a chuckle. "Oops. Bet your mom isn't too happy about that."

  "No, she's not."

  Lexie slogged up the driveway, Toto under one arm, and
a blue plastic bag dangling from her other hand. Her mouth was set in a thin, tight line, and her hair blew in her face. She looked tired and cranky.

  And he'd never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

  She hadn't betrayed him. She'd come to him.

  She marched up the steps and thrust the puppy at him, forcing him to shift Sarah into one arm and take Toto in the other. "You forgot your dog," she said. "If you think you're getting off that easily, I've got news for you, buster."

  "Okay, so what is it?"

  "What's what?"

  "What's the news for me?"

  The features of her face softened, and she offered him a tentative smile that wiped the weariness from her eyes. "I believe you."

  "You do? What do you believe?" He couldn't stop the grin that appeared on his face.

  "Do we have to do this on the porch, or are you going to invite us in?"

  He didn't want Sarah getting a chill, or else he wouldn't have budged until everything was resolved. "Welcome," he said, opening the storm door. After Lexie went into the foyer and dropped the bag, he followed. Their coats got draped over the stair banister. He set Sarah and Toto on the floor, then pulled Lexie into his arms and kissed her soundly. Then, he whispered, "What do you believe, Lexie?"

  She smiled at him, reaching up to cup his face. Happiness twinkled in her eyes. "That you love me. Will you marry me, David Mitchell?"

  "Lexie Jacobs, it would be my pleasure to marry you."

  "Yeaaayy!" Sarah yelled, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. Toto yipped, running in circles on the wooden parquet floor. "We're getting married!"

  "What's all the commotion?" David's mom and dad appeared in the living room. "Who's getting married?"

  Sarah ran to David, pressing her face against his leg.

  David lifted her into one arm, and wrapped the other around Lexie's shoulders. "We're getting married," he announced. "But first, we're having a birthday party. Mom, Dad, this is Sarah, our daughter. She's shy," he explained as the child hid in his neck. "Maybe, before we light the candles on the cake, we should call the rest of the family and get them over here." He looked at Lexie. "Kenny and Jess and the baby, Marc, and your parents should be here, don't you think?"