He shook his head. “I think I’m going to go up to the office for a while. I’ve got a bit of work to do.” With two steps, he fled from the living room.
“Conner.”
When she called his name, his pace increased. Taking the stairs two at a time, he didn’t stop until he was behind the closed door of their office. He breathed deeply, trying to calm the beating in his chest. He prayed that Grace wouldn’t follow him.
When minutes passed, he took heavy steps to his desk and held his head in his hands. There was no way he could do this. No way he’d ever be able to utter the words that would permanently break his family. He’d have to find another way. He’d have to handle Pilar without Grace ever finding out.
Chapter 8
“Mommy, I think Daddy is mad at me.”
Grace lifted her eyes from the newspaper. She reached across the kitchen table and covered Amber’s hand. “Honey, that’s not true. Why do you think that?”
Amber pushed her spoon against the pink, turquoise, and purple circles in her cereal bowl. “He won’t talk to me.”
“Your dad just has a lot on his mind, sweetie.” She paused. “He’s been working on a hard case at work.”
Amber tilted her head to the side. “Like when Jayde was getting ready to play that tennis game?”
“That’s right, sweetie. Remember how much Jayde wanted to win the championship?”
Amber nodded. “I thought she was mad at me, but she said she was just concentrating.”
“That’s what your father’s doing. He’ll be finished with this case soon, and everything will be back to normal. You’ll see.” Grace forced a wide smile and grabbed Amber’s bowl. “Sweetie, go upstairs and put on your jeans. We’ll take a ride over to Nana’s house, okay?”
Amber’s grin was back. “Okay, Mommy,” she said before she ran from the kitchen.
Grace placed the bowl in the sink, pushed her weight against the counter, and stared out the window. The Saturday sun dazzled against the backyard gazebo. But the morning’s warmth was so different from the heat rising in their home. Outside, the sun brought promises of another glorious April day. Inside, there was only the promise of the emotional silence that had invaded their space. For more than a week, the weight Conner carried hovered over them, threatening to crash down. There were times when she could almost feel the words that Conner wanted to share. But he remained silent, shutting her out. Although it took more willpower than she was aware she had, she’d stopped questioning, knowing that he would have to come to her eventually or that whatever was troubling him would pass.
But now their children were being affected. She was able to placate Amber, but Jayde wouldn’t be so easy.
“What’s wrong, Conner?” Grace whispered the question that she’d asked at least a million times in the last week.
Grace rinsed Amber’s bowl, then placed it in the dishwasher. She marched up the stairs and stood outside the office. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then stepped inside.
Conner was sitting at the desk, staring at the wall.
“I need to talk to you.” When he looked up, the weariness in his eyes was what she felt in her bones. She leaned against the edge of the desk, hoping to find the question that would give her answers. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” They were the only words that came to her mind.
Conner looked away and closed the folder on the desk. “Grace, I don’t know why you keep asking me that. I told you …”
“You haven’t told me anything,” she said before he could finish, unable to keep the frustration from her tone.
“It’s work.”
“What about work?”
“Grace, I don’t know why you’re giving me a hard time. I’ve had difficult cases before.”
“But nothing that made Amber think you were mad at her.”
He paused, then took her hand. “Grace …”
The weariness that she saw in him before shifted to sadness, and in that second Grace wanted to flee. She was filled with fear.
After a moment, Conner looked away, letting her hand slip from his at the same time. “I don’t know why Amber would think I’m mad.”
Grace sighed. “Conner, you’re different. You’ve been leaving early, coming home late. You didn’t have dinner with us all week, and I can’t think of the last time that’s happened.” She softened her voice. “You didn’t even go to church last Sunday.” She paused. “Whatever it is, I want to help. But I can’t if you won’t let me in.”
He kept his stance, as if he was stuck in place. His silence was his armor. After long minutes passed, Grace raised herself from the desk and left the room. She leaned against her bedroom door, closed her eyes, and pressed back her tears. She knew for sure now that it wasn’t a case holding her husband hostage. There was something much more.
The image of Pilar and Conner in the restaurant popped into her mind, and she snapped opened her eyes. Did this have something to do with her? Was Conner having an affair?
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s not possible.”
“Mommy, are you ready?”
She hadn’t even heard Amber in the hall. “Give me a minute, sweetheart. Watch TV in your room, and I’ll get you when I’m ready.”
“Okay, Mommy.”
Grace watched Amber skip to her room. Just a while ago, Amber was concerned, but her assurances had made Amber feel better. Grace sighed. That’s what she wanted—the heart of a child.
But what she needed were answers. And if she couldn’t get them from Conner, she’d have to find another way to uncover what he was hiding.
Even though it was Saturday night, lights from inside the Century City office buildings still shone brightly. Conner turned from the window. He glanced at his watch, although he knew the time. It was only five minutes since the last time he’d looked—just a bit after eight. Time was slowly passing. It was still too early to go home. Grace would be there, waiting with her questions. Questions that he couldn’t respond to because he didn’t have the answers himself.
He returned to the desk and flipped through the notepad. Beyond work, he’d never been much of a writer, but for the past days, he’d put his troubled thoughts onto these pages. There was a boy in New York, a child who could be his son. On the other side of his life’s ledger were his wife and the two children whom he’d loved before they took their first breaths.
Conner stared at his notes as if his glare could transform the words. But nothing that was before him was going to change.
The beeping of his cell phone startled him. He hadn’t expected Grace to call. Days ago, she’d stopped trying to track him down. He glanced at the Caller ID and frowned.
“Yes, Pilar,” he said, his words and tone lacking any pleasantries.
“I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”
“I’ve needed some time to sort this through.”
“I don’t have time.”
“I know that, Pilar. But this is not easy.”
“Have you told Grace?”
His silence was his response.
“I need to see you,” she said.
“There’s no need for that.”
“Tomorrow.”
He leaned forward in his chair. “You’re in L.A.?” Questions swirled through his mind like a deadly tornado. What was Pilar doing here? Was she going to try to see Grace?
“Yes, I’m in L.A. I need to talk to you.”
“We can do that over the phone.” He paused, then added, “It’s better over the phone.” He closed his eyes as he imagined meeting with Pilar and Grace seeing them again.
“This will be the last time, but I have to see you.” She hesitated. “You owe me this much, Conner.”
He wanted to be angered by her words, but she was right. He did owe her one more meeting. He needed to tell her face-to-face what he’d just decided. That he would do everything he could for Solomon. That he would pay any amount of money to make sure he was well taken care of. That he would make su
re all was well with him, even after she was gone. He would do it all—except be his father.
He’d help her make other plans, find another home where Solomon would be safe and loved. But not with his family. Not with the Monroes.
“We can meet tomorrow,” he said. “After church. I’ll call you in the morning to let you know where.”
“Fine.” A second later he heard the empty air of the phone.
He leaned back in the chair. Maybe it was good that Pilar had come back. Her call had helped him decide. Now he could move forward, handle this without Grace ever knowing. His secret would remain. The truth would never be told.
As he picked up his briefcase and stuffed his cell phone into his pocket, he tried to push aside the voice in his head. The one that said that the truth always came to light. But maybe this one time it didn’t have to.
Chapter 9
“I have to make a quick stop,” Conner said as he pulled the car to a halt in their driveway. He could see the protest in Grace’s eyes. “But I’ll be right back,” he added. When Grace stared at him a moment longer, he said, “I promise.”
Grace nodded and moved toward her door. But before she could get out of the car, Conner reached for her, leaning over the console of the Suburban. He held her tight, wanting the embrace to resemble the thousands that they’d shared before Pilar had come to Los Angeles. When she pulled back, Conner traced the edge of her face with his fingertips, and a smile filled her face.
Conner smiled too. This was coming to an end. By the time he returned home, his life would be the way it should be.
“See you in a little while, Daddy,” Amber said before she ran into the house after Jayde.
He squeezed Grace’s hand. “Give me an hour.”
Her smile widened. “The girls and I will get dinner ready.” She paused. “Maybe we can catch a movie tonight. Mom asked if the girls could stay over since tomorrow begins their spring break.”
He nodded. “Let’s do that,” he said before he kissed her cheek.
Conner smiled as he pulled away from his home and directed his car toward the meeting place with Pilar. But as he got closer to Kenneth Hahn Park, his grin faded as he thought about the words he’d say. He would explain that he’d take this journey with her, but there was no need to disrupt his life and no need to disturb Solomon any more than they had to. After all, he was losing his mother. He didn’t need the added emotion of finding out about his father. Surely, there was someone to whom Pilar could give custody, especially since he was willing to take care of Solomon financially. He hadn’t worked out all the details, especially not how he was going to provide money for Solomon without Grace finding out. But those were minor details that would be solved once Pilar agreed.
Conner swerved into the park and then rushed up the hill to where he’d told Pilar to meet him—away from the main thoroughfare. At the top of the hill he paused, until he spotted her sitting on a bench. His steps slowed as he approached her. He searched for signs of how she would accept his words. But it didn’t matter. This was his plan; she’d have to agree.
He sat next to her, feeling the hard wooden planks of the bench through this suit.
“Hello.”
She nodded, keeping her eyes straight ahead. He followed her glance and saw four boys tossing a football. He wondered what she was thinking. Wondered if she was imagining her son’s life in the years without her. He would assure her that Solomon would have a good life.
“Thank you for meeting me,” she spoke finally. “I needed to move this along. We have to start making plans.”
“I agree. I want you to know that I will do everything I can to take care of Solomon.”
For the first time she looked at him. She smiled. “Thank you.”
He looked down. The words had been in his mind since they’d spoken last night. He’d hardly been able to sleep. He’d prepared what he’d say as he would a summation. But now that Pilar sat next to him, this was tougher than any courtroom situation he’d ever been in.
“I will do everything I can….” He stopped. He didn’t need to look at her to know that her smile had faded as she waited for his next words. “I’m sure there is someone who would be better for Solomon.”
“I told you, there is no one else.”
“I’m really thinking about Solomon.”
Pilar turned away and raised her hand above her head. Conner frowned and followed her glance. In an instant, one of the boys broke from the group and raced toward their bench. With each of the young man’s steps, Conner’s heart stabbed his chest. Approaching him was the image in the picture that Pilar had given him. The boy with the bushy eyebrows, the high cheekbones, the cleft in his chin. The boy who left no doubt. The boy who was his son.
“Mom, did you need me?” the boy said to Pilar.
She smoothed her hand against his head. “No, I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t overdoing it. You know there’s a three-hour time difference between home and L.A.”
“Oh, Mom.” The boy grinned as if he were used to this protectiveness. “I’m fine.” His grin went away. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded.
The bench was Conner’s prison. He felt as if shackles bound his feet, his hands, his head. Only his eyes were able to move as he followed every movement, each gesture, trying to ingest twelve years of information about the boy. His mind raced, yet he captured a single thought: I love my son’s smile.
His son turned to him. “Hello.” Solomon tilted his head. “Do you know my mom?”
Before Conner could respond, Pilar said, “Solomon, you’d better go back to your game. We’ll be leaving soon.”
“Okay, Mom.” He stared at Conner for a moment longer, then ran back to the group.
Conner tried to swallow, but his lips were pinched together. Pilar allowed the silence and the sight of her son to settle before them.
Finally he said, “That was Solomon.” His voice was soft, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?”
“Would that have made a difference?”
Conner didn’t respond. He didn’t know.
“It’s time for us to make plans, Conner. I have to make sure my son is taken care of when … I’m no longer here.” She stood and swayed slightly. Conner reached for her, helping her to steady her stance. “We’ll be leaving for New York in the morning. I have a doctor’s appointment, and I don’t want Solomon to miss too many days of school.” She began to walk away, but just steps later, she glanced over her shoulder. “You just laid your eyes on your son, Conner. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
Conner stayed as Pilar trudged across the grass to where Solomon tossed the football to one of the other boys. Then she placed her hand on his shoulder, and they walked away. He stared, still unable to move. He wanted to run after them. He wanted just another minute, even just a second … with his son.
Just before Pilar and Solomon disappeared over the curve of the hill, the boy turned around and waved. He could have been waving to the boys he’d just played with, but Conner was sure the gesture was for him.
He closed his eyes and pressed the tears back. Every thought, every plan, all the preparations dissipated inside of him. There would be no hidden checks or hushed meetings. There would be no secrets at all. He had to claim his son.
Conner’s hand trembled as he pressed the remote for the garage door. It’s good that it’s Sunday, he thought for the thousandth time. At least this morning, he and Grace had prayed together, worshipped together. And by the time they got home, they had hoped together. Although they still had not talked, Conner knew that Grace had the same wishes he had—that their lives would return to normal.
But that was hours earlier.
He didn’t know how much time had passed since he’d left Pilar, but he knew that it had been too long for Grace. He was sure she and the girls had long ago had dinner.
When he stepped to the door, he closed his ey
es. “Dear Lord,” he began. “I’m finally doing the right thing. Please help me to find the right words.” He’d said that prayer in variations all afternoon.
Inside, he moved slowly through the darkened hallway, but at the kitchen door, he stopped. Grace sat at the table with her arms crossed, her frown planted as if it had been in place for hours. The curry from the shrimp she’d cooked still fragranced the air. Conner tried to gulp the lump in his throat. His wife had prepared his favorite dish.
“Grace …”
She held up her hand and stood. “Conner, I am not going through this anymore. You’ve disappointed me and the girls for the last time, and …”
This time he stopped her. “I know. We need to talk.”
She backed away slightly as if surprised by his words. “Okay.”
He looked around. “Where’re the girls?”
“With Mom. They’re spending the night.”
He took a breath, and then reached for her hand. The chains that he’d felt in the park returned as he led them to the living room. But it was the noose he felt around his neck that frightened him the most.
“Is a case bothering you?” she asked as they sat.
He knew that was her thought, that was her hope. He stroked her face with his fingertips and wished that God could take them away from this place. Finally, he took her hand and moved closer. Their knees touched. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” The apology was a good beginning.
“About what?”
He lowered his eyes. “There’s something I have to tell you, but I don’t know how.” His tongue grazed his lips again.
Grace took both of his hands into hers. “You can tell me anything.”
The water welling in his eyes blurred his vision. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Conner.” Her voice trembled.
He hoped she’d say those words again when he was finished. “I found out something. I don’t understand … I don’t know how … I don’t know what …,” he jabbered.
Grace held his hands tighter.
“Pilar …”
She pulled away.
Truth Be Told Page 9