“I’ll take her to the car,” Conner said as he kissed Grace on her cheek.
“I’ll meet you in the room.”
Pilar said, “Thank you again, Grace.”
Grace nodded and turned away without saying anything. She didn’t have any words left.
“That went well,” Conner said when he entered the hotel room.
Grace turned from the window where she’d stood. “Pilar doesn’t look good.”
Conner nodded and sat on the couch. He loosened his tie. “The medication has been as devastating as the disease. She’s allergic to most of it.” He exhaled as if he’d been holding the emotions of their meeting inside.
Grace sauntered to him. “I was surprised she didn’t want to use the diagnostics center.” She kept her tone as casual as she could.
“I wasn’t. It makes sense that she’d want the test done at a place she could trust.”
What about our trust? Grace thought.
“And the medical center costs much less than the diagnostics center. Pilar said it’s only two hundred dollars. I gave her a check.”
Her glance stayed on Conner for a long moment before she said, “What do we do now?”
“Well, Pilar thinks it’s a good idea for us to meet Solomon.” He paused, and though he looked straight ahead, Grace knew he was watching her. “Even before the results are back.”
Inside, she still wanted to fight. “As long as she doesn’t introduce you as the boy’s father, Conner.”
His eyes were weary, but he smiled. “Thank you, Grace. Pilar’s going to call tomorrow. We’ll probably go on Saturday.”
Grace nodded. “I’m going to lie down for a little while.”
She kissed Conner, reassuring him that all was well. But what she really wanted was time alone. She needed to focus, put herself inside Pilar’s shoes, and figure out just how far she’d be willing to walk if she were in the same place.
Grace leaned her ear against the bedroom door again, listening. The voices from the television were only a whisper, and she prayed that Conner was either engrossed in the news or that the softness of the hotel’s couch had lulled him to sleep.
She tiptoed back to the bed and pulled her cell phone from her purse. She checked the number she’d written on the pad, took a deep breath, and dialed.
“New York College Medical Center. How may I direct your call?”
She didn’t know. “Uh … I’d like some information on a paternity test.”
“Hold a moment, please.”
Grace turned toward the door and tried to think of what she’d say if Conner walked in.
“Medical Genetics.”
“Yes, I’d like some information on having a paternity test done.”
“Well, it’s six hundred and fifty dollars. That covers the mother, father, and child.” Grace grabbed a pencil from the desk. “The next test is on the twenty-second of May, and the results take six to eight weeks.”
Grace frowned. “Wait a minute. The test is in May? What do you mean? We have to come in?”
“Yes. There are centers that do this through the mail, but to make sure there are no errors, we do the tests in person.”
“And you’re sure it takes six weeks?”
The woman sighed. “Yes.”
“And it costs six hundred and fifty dollars?”
Her sigh was deeper this time. “Yes.”
“Thank you,” Grace whispered before she hung up. She stared at the notes she’d taken and wondered why the words on the paper were so different from the ones Pilar had told them.
Chapter 25
It would have made a lot more sense if we’d stayed in Queens, Grace thought as she stared at the same houses they passed on their way to the Plaza. They were driving back toward the airport into St. Albans.
When they awakened this morning, Conner told her that a car would pick them up at nine.
“Let’s rent one,” she’d said. “It’ll give us more options.”
He nodded, and as he turned to roll from the bed, she’d stopped him. “We should pray first.”
He said thank-you with his eyes, then held her hand as they prayed.
That had been over two hours ago, and they had exchanged few words since. Thoughts kept them silent. Grace tried to imagine what was in her husband’s mind. And then there were her reflections. She hadn’t told Conner about her call to the hospital. There could be many explanations, and when she did go to him, she would take only facts.
“There’s Linden Boulevard.” Conner pointed and she looked at the directions she held. They turned left, and continued down the potholed street.
When they crossed Merrick Boulevard, she said, “There’s the church.” Grace read the last line on the paper: “House will be two blocks down.”
Her heart pounded as the vehicle slowed, and then it seemed to cease beating altogether when Conner stopped the car. They stared at the red brick two-story home. A city-abused burgundy Honda Accord sat in the driveway covered with the same urban dirt as the other cars on the street.
Grace’s eyes roamed to the second floor where beige miniblinds covered two white-trimmed windows. The blinds on the right swayed, and Grace leaned forward, straining to see who was behind the window’s covering. She jumped when Conner touched her hand.
“Are you okay?” His voice trembled.
She could only nod because her vocal cords felt paralyzed.
Conner opened his door and came around to her side. She kept her hand in his as they approached the house. Her legs wobbled as Conner opened the low iron gate, but she felt steadier when they moved up the cobblestone pathway. Before he could ring the bell, the door opened.
“Come in.”
Grace took a deep breath and stepped inside, keeping her eyes away from Pilar’s.
The entryway was small. When Pilar closed the door, the three stood with their shoulders almost touching.
“Come in,” she repeated and they followed her into the living room.
Grace was reminded of 704 Hauser Street. Like Archie Bunker’s house, most of the first floor was one large room. Even part of the kitchen could be seen from where she stood.
“Have a seat.” Even though it was ten in the morning, Pilar clicked on a lamp.
They sat on the long brown crushed velvet couch that overwhelmed the room with its size. Pilar sat across from them in a half-moon-shaped green brocade chair.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said to Conner, and then her eyes moved to Grace.
Conner asked, “Have you heard anything from the medical center?”
“No, not yet.” She looked away. “They said in another day or two.”
Grace crossed her legs. “I’m surprised they can get results that quickly.”
Pilar’s eyes met hers. “NYCMC is one of the best in the country.”
Silence followed their exchange.
Conner leaned forward, his elbows rested on his legs. “Where’s Solomon?”
“In his room.” She motioned toward the stairs behind them. “I told him that some old friends of mine were stopping by.”
Conner nodded.
Grace stared.
“Before we do this,” Pilar started, “I have to make sure. I have to protect my son.”
“Pilar, you’re the one who keeps talking about there not being enough time,” Conner said.
“That’s true, but I want to know … when the test results show …”
“I will do the right thing.”
Grace inhaled.
“Does that mean you’re going to take responsibility?” Pilar asked.
Conner moved to stand, but Grace put her hand on his leg, keeping him in place. “Pilar, this is not a game.”
“No one knows that better than me.”
“What do you think my being here is all about?”
Grace said, “May I say something?” With their silence, she continued. “We shouldn’t be talking about this with Solomon upstairs.”
�
�It’s fine. He’s on his computer.”
“Still …” Grace looked from Conner to Pilar.
Pilar said, “As I said, I want to be sure.”
“Nothing is sure until the results come back.” Conner stood and took Grace’s hand. “Maybe this would be better handled through lawyers.”
“No,” Pilar said calmly, unaffected by Conner’s display. “We don’t need attorneys. I just wanted to know where you stood.”
“Now you know.”
She pushed herself from the chair. “I’ll get Solomon.” It took a moment for her to take the first step, but then she disappeared up the stairs.
Conner filled his cheeks with air, then exhaled.
“Calm down, honey,” Grace said.
“I don’t want to play games.”
“This is not a game to her.” Grace was surprised at her defense of Pilar. “She needs assurances because once she brings that boy downstairs, things are going to be different, no matter what.” Her words were a warning. “This is what I was afraid of. Moving too quickly.”
He stared at her. “We’re just meeting him. Nothing more.”
With her palm, she caressed his face. He wrapped his arms around her. They were holding each other when the first steps echoed on the stairs. Conner pulled away, but held Grace’s hand.
Pilar came first, then the boy, who stood just an inch or two shorter than his mother. The two walked toward Grace and Conner. As they came closer, Grace felt Conner’s fingers slip away.
Pilar placed her hands on her son’s shoulders. “Solomon, these are my friends. This is Conner Monroe. The man I used to work for.”
The boy smiled and a look of recognition filled his eyes. “I remember you. You were in the park in L.A.”
“Yes, that was me.
He extended his hand. “It’s nice to see you again, sir.”
Conner hesitated, then took the boy’s hand. “I am so glad to meet you, Solomon.”
Grace raised her hand to her mouth to hide her trembling lips.
Pilar said, “Let’s sit down.”
Still holding Solomon’s hand, Conner led him to the couch, and Pilar returned to the chair where she’d been sitting. It took a moment for Conner to remember Grace, still standing where he’d left her.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He turned to the boy. “Solomon, this is my wife, Grace.”
He granted her the same smile that he’d blessed Conner with a moment before.
“It’s nice to meet you, Solomon.”
He nodded, and then turned back to Conner.
Grace looked around, and sat in a chair next to Pilar facing Conner and Solomon on the couch. A loud silence engulfed the room for seconds that felt like minutes. It was Solomon who saved them.
“Do you like baseball?”
Conner blinked, then smiled. “Yes, I do.”
“I really like the Mets. My mom takes me to Shea Stadium.”
“I’ve never been there,” Conner said.
Solomon tilted his head. “Maybe you can go with me one day.”
Grace clasped her shaking hands in her lap. He looked as if he would be a good baseball player—lanky, the way Conner looked as a boy.
“Solomon loves sports.” Pilar picked up a photo album from the table. She moved to the couch, putting Solomon between Conner and her, and opened the book on her son’s lap.
Grace watched as the three shared Solomon’s pictorial biography. Within minutes, she knew that she’d made a mistake. She should have never allowed this meeting.
“Grace?” Her eyes focused on her husband. “Do you want to come over here?” Conner moved a bit on the couch, making room for her.
She shook her head. He looked at her for a moment longer, then returned to Solomon and Pilar.
Grace glanced around the living room, seeking a reprieve.
“This is Solomon’s first softball championship.”
Grace jumped up. “May I use your bathroom?”
“Sure, it’s the first door that way.” Pilar pointed, keeping her eyes on the pictures.
Grace waited to see if Conner would look up. He didn’t.
She gently closed the bathroom door instead of slamming it the way she wanted to. It took minutes for her breathing to steady. She pushed the commode’s cover down and sat, holding her face in her hands. This was not what she expected. The boy looked different from the picture. Today he looked like Conner’s son.
Could he be? She thought of the thickness of his eyebrows and the slight cleft in his chin. What if she were meeting his son for the first time? It was as if her heart was just accepting the possibility.
She took deep breaths, trying to take herself to the place she wanted to be. She heard Devry’s words. You’re a good Christian.
She stood, looked in the mirror, straightened her suit, and turned off the light. She plastered a smile on her face, but stopped before she stepped into the living room.
“Where’s Conner?”
“Upstairs with Solomon.”
Grace looked toward the stairs.
“You can go up, or … you can stay down here. With me.”
It was a challenge more than an invitation. Grace looked at the stairs, then returned to where she’d been sitting.
“I can tell that you don’t think this was a good idea,” Pilar said.
“I would have preferred to wait for the paternity results.”
“That’s not necessary. I know how they will turn out.”
Grace folded her arms. “I’m sure you do.”
Pilar’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve always known that Conner was Solomon’s father.”
“Tell me, Pilar, why did you want the tests done at the medical center?”
She’d expected to throw Pilar off with her question, but Pilar smiled when she said, “I told you.”
“Tell me again.”
“That’s where Solomon was born and where I’m being treated.”
Solomon’s giggles interrupted them.
“Pilar, your son is quite the collector.” When Conner looked at Grace, it was as if he just remembered she was there. He left Solomon’s side. “Are you okay?”
Grace nodded and forced a smile.
His face relaxed with relief. “I was looking at Solomon’s comic books.”
“He’s been collecting for three years, and what he has is impressive.” Pilar rolled her hand over Solomon’s head. “I’m very proud of him.”
Conner beamed.
Grace watched the exchange, then stood. “We should be going.”
“Oh,” Pilar said. “I thought you’d have lunch.”
“Please stay,” Solomon said.
Conner turned to Grace, and although she saw the desire in his eyes, she couldn’t grant his wish. He said, “We have … plans this afternoon,” trying to lighten the tension that tightened the room.
“But I like having you here,” Solomon said. “We don’t get a lot of company.” He lowered his eyes. “Especially since Mom …”
Conner said, “We’ll try to come back … in a couple of days.”
Solomon turned ready to direct his pleas to Grace. But her stiff smile stopped him. Pilar and Solomon walked Grace and Conner to the door. The loud silence accompanied them, and this time Solomon did not rescue them.
Grace said, “Pilar, thank you for having us.” She looked down at Solomon. “I’m glad I met you, Solomon.”
He smiled, but his eyes continued his plea.
Grace turned away, fearing that if she didn’t, she would give the boy what he needed. The noon air saluted her when she opened the door and the breeze cooled the heat that had risen inside the house.
Grace looked back and watched as Conner said, “I hope to see you again soon.”
“Si.”
Conner chuckled. “Spanish, huh?”
“He’s learning on his computer,” Pilar explained as she put her arm on Solomon’s shoulders. “When I told him that Spanish was Cuba’s official language, he was determined
to learn it.”
Solomon said, “I’d like to visit Cuba someday.”
“Maybe one day you’ll make the trip.” Conner looked at Pilar, and his eyes saddened. He wanted to apologize, but her eyes reassured him.
Grace watched Conner’s hand move from Solomon’s head, to his shoulder, until he took the boy’s hand. It still took minutes for Conner to break away.
Finally, Conner and Grace walked to the car. By the time Conner started the ignition, Pilar had taken her son into the house. The first visit was over.
They had been silent throughout the ride back, and even when they entered the hotel, they’d exchanged only enough words to determine they would have lunch in the suite.
Now, as Grace sat across from Conner at the table that held their lunch, she waited while he put the napkin on his lap. He took her hand and bowed his head.
“Father, in the name of Jesus we thank you for this food. Father, we thank you for this day.”
He paused, and Grace looked up. His head was still bowed, but when moments passed, Grace continued, “We thank you, Father, for helping us take these first steps. Help us, Father, to face the days ahead.” Grace lifted her head. “And protect us, Lord. No matter what we want, let us all pray that the truth is revealed and that your will is done. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”
Conner opened his eyes. “Thank you.”
They began eating in the silence that had become their partner. Grace twirled a jumbo shrimp in the alfredo sauce. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.” He stared at the salmon on his plate, then pushed it away. “I wasn’t prepared for today. Even though I’d seen him before, this was different. It was personal.” He paused. “I didn’t want to leave him.”
“I know,” she said, her apology in her tone.
“I can’t explain it, but I felt so comfortable with him.”
“He seems like a nice young man.”
He stared at her for a moment. “He’s more than that, Grace. He’s my son.”
Grace lowered her eyes and held her protest inside.
“But the best part,” Conner continued, “was that he was comfortable with me.”
Grace nodded, remembering how they were together—as if they had always been together as father and son.
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