by Sandy James
“You and Eli are close.”
I nodded.
“Are you going to…try to…” She took a shuddering breath before she found the words. “You won’t go for custody or something, will you?”
The poor woman needed to hear me say it plain or she’d never get past this. “No. No way. Eli’s your son.”
“He’s your son too.”
“Not the same thing. I’m his birth mother. You’re his mom.”
A tear spilled over her lashes onto her cheek. “Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for. I should thank you. For sixteen years, you’ve loved and cared for him.”
“I wanted to.”
“And that’s why I gave him to you. You should know that I never take back a gift I’ve given.”
We shared a quick hug, then she led me through her stereotypical middle-class Cape Cod. Eli’s room was upstairs, and the moment I walked through the door, I realized how much alike we truly were.
His walls were papered in drawings the same way mine had been with posters. Music blasted from his computer. “What do you think?” he asked, jumping up from where he’d be sprawled on his bed. He adjusted the music to delegate it to background noise.
“Looks like a typical teenage boy’s room.” I tossed him a smirk.
“I meant about my stuff.” He nodded to the drawings tacked on the wall to his right.
Stephanie excused herself, saying she was working on Eli’s favorite foods for supper.
I drifted around the room, taking in all his artwork and smiling. “Too cool, Eli.” How talented he was. If his work was this good at his age, I could only imagine how far he could go after attending art school. “Have you ever heard of Herron School of Art?”
“Yeah. In Indianapolis.”
“Are you going to apply there when you’re done with your diploma?”
A shrug in reply. “Was thinking more about New York schools.”
We needed to talk. “C’mere.” I sat on his bed and patted the space next to me.
He sat down at my side. “You look upset. Don’t you want me to come to New York? I mean, I could live with you. But I won’t screw up again. Don’t you trust me now?”
“Of course I do. But I think you need to base your decision on college on what’s best for you, not on what will get you closer to me or farther away from home.”
Eli narrowed his eyes at me. “What makes you think I want to move away from home?”
“‘Cause it’s what I wanted to do when I was your age. It’s why I moved to New York City. I wanted to get the hell out of Pottsville. Everyone under the age of fifty wants to get the hell out of Pottsville.” Trying to draw on the type of talks my mom always had with me, I laid some words of what I hoped were wisdom on my son. “Don’t live your life running away from something.” Like I had.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That’s supposed to mean that you do what’s right for you for all the right reasons rather than all the wrong ones. Choose a college because they can make you a better artist or because you like the campus and the professors.”
He mulled it over for a good long while before he nodded. “What if that school’s in New York City?”
“When you make that decision, call. We’ll talk. We’ll figure something out.”
“You’d let me stay with you?”
I nodded.
When he leaned over to give me a quick hug, I couldn’t have been more surprised. “Thanks, Maddie.”
I patted his back. “You’re welcome, Eli.”
After half an hour of talking about our graphic novel, I finally left. Once inside the smoky Taurus, I pulled out my phone, turned it on and dialed the number I dreaded the most.
Chapter Twenty-One
Craig’s Mercedes pulled up next to my rental in the Woodrow Wilson High School parking lot fifteen minutes later than he’d told me he’d meet me. Everything inside me screamed to keep him as far away from Eli as I could. The man was a damned rapist. And he’d surely done the same to more girls than just me, especially considering Terri had told a similar tale. Yes, he’d contributed the DNA that made Eli, but he wasn’t a father. In my eyes, he would never be a father.
Guilt haunted me anyway, gnawing at my conviction. By lying, I’d kept this man from ever knowing he’d sired a son. I shoved that remorse aside, knowing what I was doing would be best for everyone concerned. Maybe someday, years and years from now I would…
Oh, who was I kidding? There was no way in hell I’d ever let Eli know that Craig was his father. The man raped me. He didn’t deserve to know, nor did I intend to ever put my son through that kind of torment.
Craig slammed his car door and stomped around to where I leaned back against my trunk with my arms folded over my breasts, trying to look strong and composed. He glared down at me like he thought he had the right. “I should sue your ass to hell and back, Maddie Sawyer.”
His bluster didn’t even make my heart beat faster. Shit, I lived in New York City—having an angry and decidedly crazy man scream at me was a daily occurrence.
“Sue me?” I snorted a laugh. “For what?”
“For not telling me we had a kid!”
I pasted on my best nonchalant expression, the one Marla had carefully taught me to use whenever we talked to editors about publishing one of my books. My poker face. “I can see why you’d jump to that conclusion after hearing about the kid coming to the reunion. But—”
“Damned right, I figured it out!”
“But,” I continued, letting him know how much I hated his interruption, “you’re wrong. That boy might be my kid, but he sure as hell isn’t yours.”
Craig threw his keychain against the pavement. His alarm remote shattered into pieces of black plastic. It would surely cost a pretty penny to replace a Mercedes remote. Schadenfraude made me smile—even though it was wrong to do so, I loved his misery. “You think I can’t add, Maddie? The kid’s probably sixteen. That makes him mine.”
“Then add again, genius. He’s barely sixteen, if you’d bothered to check. You couldn’t be his dad.”
“But the party we slept together…”
“You’re wrong.”
“Prove it.”
Trying to get an unreasonable man to listen wasn’t easy, but I gave it my best shot. “Search your memory again, Craig. You raped me in—” Damn, it just slipped out, and I knew he wouldn’t let it go unnoticed.
“I didn’t rape you, goddammit!”
No backing down now. “You raped me in August—it was at the back-to-school party.” I thanked God for Marla’s coaching on how to hide my emotions. My poker face stayed cemented in place as held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t remember an incident that was clearly unimportant to him. Shit, we’d been wearing costumes because it was Halloween. He’d been Freddy Krueger. I was Cinderella, wearing the tiara I got at Disney World. Surely a guy wouldn’t remember details like that.
He stood as still as a statue for some long, agonizing moments. “Back-to-school party?” I could almost see the gears turning in his head and flippantly waited for smoke to trickle out of his ears. “It was, wasn’t it? When did ya say the kid was born?”
“July of the next year. No way you could be his dad.”
Fingers starting clicking off until he reached nine. “But I figured that I was probably his dad.”
I should have felt guilty, but my son had enough problems in his life. The burden of knowing his father had raped his mother could break him. I pressed my point, hoping Craig would be convinced. “Well, you figured wrong. I met his dad at a Halloween party. Now count nine fingers again. This time, it’ll fit.”
His narrowed eyes told me he didn’t believe me. “What’s the dad’s name?”
“Was. His name was Dom Niemand—a Dutch exchange student from Garfield High. He died in a car accident a couple of years after our son was born. He never even knew he had a kid.”
Craig didn’t blink for so long th
at his eyes had to sting. “He’s really not mine?”
I shook my head. “No way in hell he’s yours.” A good lie needed a good bluff. “Want a DNA test? ’Cause I can arrange it.” And how in the hell I could fake that, I had no clue. But I’d find a way. Somehow.
All the fight went out of Craig as he flopped back against the trunk of my car to stand next to me and look at his shoes. “God, you scared the hell out of me. I figured you’d hit me up for back child support or something. That would cost me a pretty penny, I can tell you. Been down that road once already with an old girlfriend. I don’t think Anita’s forgiven me for that mistake yet. I don’t want to lose her over something stupid that happened in high school.”
This whole ridiculous meeting had been about money and his marriage, not concern he might have a son. Not the desire to get to know his own child. Craig clearly hadn’t changed one iota.
“No one wants your fucking money.” As I yanked my keys out of my pocket, I pushed away from the car.
Craig’s hand shot out to grab my arm. His fingers were like branding irons against my skin.
I jerked away from his touch. “Don’t ever do that again!”
“Your boyfriend gonna threaten me again? Sue me for assault or something?”
Was that what Scott had done at the reunion? I remembered the business card Craig had tossed back at Scott. “He will if you don’t keep your damn hands to yourself.”
A scowl and he marched back to his car. The slam of his car door was the most wonderful sound I’d heard all day.
At least the guilt had evaporated. Eli didn’t deserve rejection from a man who’d only see him as a financial burden, and I’d deny until the day I died that Craig had anything to do with creating such a fantastic young man.
* * *
“Maddie?” My father came out of the sanctuary of his garage and wiped the grease tinting his hands on a grimy towel. “You’re back?”
“Hi, Daddy.” I leaned in to kiss one of the few clean spots on his cheek. “Mom called me, wanted me to come for supper.”
Daddy peered over my shoulder. “Is Eli with you?” His voice told me he was still starved to spend time with his grandson.
“He’s back with his mom.”
His lips fell to a frown. “I guess I hoped…I mean, you’re his mother after all.”
I wasn’t about to let him or Mom hold out some unreasonable hopes that Eli would be with me full time. “Stephanie’s his mother.”
“You’re his mom, Maddie. You gave birth to that boy.”
“And I gave him up for adoption. I’m glad you and Mom know him now, and he’s willing to be part of our family. But Stephanie’s his mom.”
With a shake of his head, Daddy mumbled to himself and returned to his beloved garage.
Judging from how many times she’d called over the past week, I had a feeling Mom would be every bit as persistent as Daddy, and I suddenly thought supper was a terrible idea. Especially since Mom would want to talk not only about Eli but about Scott. Here I was, running home to Mommy like some stupid kid. Running home to tell Mommy I had boyfriend trouble.
“Madalyn Grace?” Mom called from the kitchen door. “Is that you?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“I made your favorites,” she said.
“No, thanks.” I followed Mom into the kitchen and took a chair at the table that probably dated back to the 1970s.
Opening the refrigerator door, Mom acted as if I hadn’t spoken a single word. “Made fresh fried chicken, and we’ve got a few tomatoes from the garden.”
“Mom…please.” I groaned the word and dropped my forehead to the cool surface of the table.
A hand stroked the back of my head, and the comforting action sent me flying back to childhood. Mom always did that when I needed soothing, and never once had she failed to make me feel better. Didn’t matter how badly I screwed up, my Mom would fix it. Except that one time… But had I told her about being pregnant, I had no doubt she would have been there for me—and for Eli.
After a few moments, her hand moved away. I glanced up to see her staring at me with wise eyes. “Why are you really here, Madalyn?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re here. Alone. Talking to your mother instead of gabbing with your sister.”
I just shrugged.
“Why didn’t Scott come with you? Was he upset about Eli?”
I waved a dismissive hand. “No, no. Nothing like that. They get along great. I actually think Eli likes him more than me.” Not that I’d tell her their bonding occurred over a pool table, at Bridges Detention Center and in a courtroom.
“Couldn’t he get away from work?”
“Mom…I found out that…well, Scott’s a defense attorney.” The last two words seemed a whispered blasphemy.
She blinked a few times, obviously confused. “And?”
How could she take this kind of devastating news without a single flinch? “And I left him.”
“Oh, Madalyn Grace. You didn’t.”
I nodded, feeling more than a little sick to my stomach.
“Because he’s an attorney?”
“A defense attorney,” I couldn’t help but point out.
Mom leaned back and glowered at me. “I don’t understand. You love that man. I know you do.”
I shoved my chair back hard. “Yes, I love him. But he lied to me. I thought he was a…I don’t know, a mechanic—or a construction worker. But he’s an attorney. A stupid, lying defense attorney! And I…I…” Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. Where had all the air gone?
“Maddie?”
“I love him.”
“Well, of course you do.”
“Oh, God, Mom. I made a stupid mistake.”
I was enfolded in her comforting embrace before the first tear fell. She stroked my hair as I rested my forehead against her shoulder.
I’d made the worst decision of my entire life, and that was saying a lot considering all the tremendously stupid choices I’d made in the past. But losing Scott wasn’t merely a stupid choice—it was a catastrophe of epic proportions.
Daddy stuck his head inside the kitchen door just as I sat back down at the table. Mom shook her head at him, and he disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived. Having reared two daughters, he obviously knew a female crisis when he saw one and would avoid it at all costs.
Mom spent a couple of busy minutes fussing around the stove, and then she set a full plate in front of me. My stomach roiled in response.
“Eat, Maddie. You’ll feel better.” Food. Her answer to most of life’s disappointments.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I grabbed a chicken leg and took a bite. Mom’s cooking never ceased to amaze me, but this had all the taste of cardboard. I chewed and chewed and finally took a gulp of iced tea to flush the lump of meat down my throat.
Grabbing the pitcher, she poured herself a glass before sitting down to sip it and ponder me. “Explain something to me.”
“Explain what?”
“I need to understand why you’re so upset, but I just…don’t. Why does it matter if he’s an attorney? I’d think you’d be thrilled he has such a respected profession.”
Jumping to my feet again, I shot her a dubious scowl. If I kept pacing at this speed, I’d surely wear a path in Mom’s linoleum. “Have you forgotten about Jack? Defense attorneys help evil people, just like they helped the guy who murdered Jack.”
“Oh, Madalyn. Is that what you think? That the man’s lawyer was at fault?”
I nodded until my neck hurt.
“I never knew.” Her sigh hung in the air. “Losing Jack was hard on all of us. I should have known it would hurt you most. I guess I was too lost in my own grief to notice.”
“Why me?”
“You were the baby. And you were always…overly emotional about things.”
Damn right, I was emotional. Especially about Jack.
“But you’ve got it all wrong, honey.”
H
er words made my feet freeze to the floor, but I didn’t stop glaring at her.
“The man who hit Jack was sent to the wrong lab. The policeman thought it was certified.” As she told me the story, Mom poured herself more iced tea as if we were doing nothing more than discussing the hot spell that had hit Indiana.
“The breathalyzer said he was drunk.” My voice sounded shaky. Perhaps I could get a little too emotional.
“Just the first one they used. He insisted he hadn’t had more than two beers, and they got a different reading on the second.”
Second? “They gave him two breathalyzers?”
Mom nodded. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You were only in elementary school when Jack died.”
“I remember him,” I objected.
A soothing stroke of my hand took away my indignation. “Of course you do, honey. I meant about the details from the trial and things like that.”
The images seemed hazy yet strong. A paradox. “I remember how angry you and Daddy were at the defense attorney when he got the judge to throw out the drunk driving charge.”
“You’re right. We were mad, but we were just venting. I didn’t see the defense attorney as helping a criminal walk free. I saw him as a man sworn to make sure that the person who was on trial was treated fairly. And Jack’s driving didn’t help.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He turned left in front of the guy’s car, Maddie. Don’t you remember?”
No. No, I didn’t. “It was Jack’s fault?” I felt like the world had stopped spinning.
“Yes and no. He turned in front of the guy. We can’t blame it all on that man.”
A heavy sigh fell from my lips because I didn’t want her to make sense, but she was. “That asshole was drunk.”
“Watch your mouth.” Her stern frown still sent shivers down my spine.
“Sorry. But…but he was drunk.”
“Since one breathalyzer was higher than legal but the second was lower, they ran a blood test. But the policeman took him to a lab that wasn’t certified properly, and…well…” She simply shrugged. “We’ll never know.” A soft pat to the back of my hand. “And besides. Knowing wouldn’t bring Jack back to us. It’s time for you to put this behind you.”