“Did she now? What about the person she came in with? The legal adult who signed the paperwork? Did you see that person leave by any chance?”
Silence. Big Mike was busted. He had two choices—fabricate an adult who’d come in with Violet to make the piercing legal or admit he’d pierced a minor without regard to state law.
Nic was betting on the latter. Big Mike might like bending laws like pretzels to suit his needs, but he wasn’t stupid.
Sure enough, a beefy fist came down on the counter making the glass rattle in the case. “Come on, chief. With all the shit going on in this town, since when do you have time to start trolling the streets looking for misdemeanors?”
Nic’s turn to shrug. “The parents were pretty upset by what you did to their precious little angel. They were already talking court when they picked the kid up from the curfew center. That’s where this photo came from. Evidence for the judge. Wouldn’t be at all surprised if they’ve secured their attorney by now.”
Big Mike’s mouth opened and shut a few more times, reminding Nic distinctly of a gasping fish.
“You’re going to bust my chops about a piercing?”
“A minor, Mike. You know the rules.”
The rule today: Nic wanted answers about the judge.
And the ruddy flush creeping into the man’s bristly cheeks told Nic he did know the rules and didn’t like them one bit.
“She’s no one, Chief.”
Beep. Wrong answer. Nic whipped out a citation pad from another pocket. “Now that’s where you’re wrong, Mike. She’s the minor who’s costing you one significant chunk of change.”
“You. Are. Shitting. Me.”
Nic checked off boxes and scratched out his name. He handed Big Mike a citation for the max allowable fine. “No shitting today. But about that other incident, Mike, and all the excitement you missed—if it turns out you remember anything, anything at all, give me a call. You know where to find me.”
Nic tucked the citation pad in his pocket with the envelope and photo. He smiled and said, “Have a nice day, Mike.”
And headed out the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TAKING A DEEP BREATH, Megan willed herself to calm down. She glanced at the clock on the display of her loaner car, a car that had proven surprisingly fun to drive—or would have been in any other circumstances.
Ten forty-eight.
She was meeting Nic inside at eleven. She’d already spent the past few hours standing in lines and getting information about legally changing her two-person family into a three-person family. Somehow the paperwork she held was driving home the situation in a way nothing else had until now.
STATE OF LOUISIANA ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF PATERNITY AFFIDAVIT CHILD BORN OUTSIDE OF MARRIAGE
NOTICE: You must read all three pages and initial the third page of this form before you sign the affidavit.
This is a legal document. Complete in ink and do not alter.
Do not alter? Did someone have a sick sense of humor? Completing this paperwork would alter her life forever. While there might not be much time left for shared parental responsibilities, Nic would still be a part of Violet’s life, which meant by default he’d be a part of Megan’s. She might run into him on holidays. Certainly at Violet’s milestone occasions. At the very least Megan would hear about him from Violet, about the part he was playing in her life.
All well and good. Nic should be a part of his daughter’s life, no question, but Megan hadn’t counted on her reaction to him, as if fifteen years and a lot of bad decisions had never happened. Why couldn’t the man have gone on with his life and gotten married like someone normal?
If she’d have shown up in New Orleans to meet Violet’s stepmother and six half siblings, she wouldn’t be so aware of the man. External circumstances would have tempered her reaction. But she’d waltzed right through his mother’s front door and sat at the dinner table as if she’d only run to the corner market to pick up a gallon of milk.
Ten forty-nine.
She had time.
Retrieving her cell phone from her purse, she depressed number three on the speed dial. The call connected quickly.
“Hello, dear,” Marie said.
Megan rested her head against the steering wheel, eyes shuttering against the bright Louisiana sun for the briefest of instants as she said, “SOS.”
Save Our Sanity.
A chuckle on the other end. “I will if I can. Tell me what’s going on. But first tell me how you found Violet. I assume she’s in one piece. Your text messages didn’t say much.”
“One piece and quite pleased with both her new father and her new nose ring.”
A gasp. “She didn’t.”
“Oh, she did.”
“Well, look at the bright side. At least the piercing will close up when she gets tired of it. Not like a tattoo.”
Megan couldn’t suppress a shiver. “You’re right. I should stay focused on the positives.”
Tattoos and body piercings. When had her life dissolved into using such a yardstick?
“You should,” Marie agreed. “So Violet’s pleased, but I’m not hearing the same from you.”
Preliminaries over, Megan exploded. “Oh, Marie. I’m caught up. Just like I used to get. Just like that. I didn’t even remember I felt this way until I started feeling this way.”
“Slow down, dear. Take a deep breath.”
“I have been. I’ve been taking so many I’m about to hyperventilate. It’s not helping.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
Megan launched into the series of events that began with Nic’s appearance at the airport and ending with the fact that she was sitting in front of a notary’s office getting ready to meet him to legally include him in Violet’s life.
Do not alter.
Altered irrevocably and forever.
Which Megan pointed out without stopping to draw air, so she was breathless and dizzy by the time she finished. Marie remained silent, and Megan could almost see her shaking her head to clear it, trying to find some sense in that verbal tirade.
“Let me get this straight,” she finally said. “You and Violet are staying with his mother?”
“Yes.”
“You’re driving his brother’s car?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re adding his name to Violet’s birth certificate and legally changing her last name?”
“Yes and yes.”
Another beat of silence then, “Oh, dear. Well, you are caught up.”
Megan stared out the windshield at the people strolling through their mornings, tourists exploring the French Quarter, business people heading to appointments, city employees going about the variety of tasks that made life in New Orleans more convenient and pleasant for the folks who lived here. Most of these people were probably exhibiting much better coping skills than Megan was right now. What had happened to her? Between South America and the U.S. she’d transformed from a sane, independent woman into a panicked, confused wreck.
“I can’t think around him, Marie,” she admitted the truth in a whisper. “I never could. Even way back when I knew if I told him I was pregnant, he’d probably suggest getting married and I’d never be able to say no.”
“Did you want to marry him?”
“I don’t know,” Megan said with a disgusted sigh. “I wasn’t thinking about what I wanted. I was only hearing what my parents said and they were telling me all the reasons why marriage would never work.”
If you care at all for Nic, you wouldn’t want to saddle him the responsibility of a wife and child, or at the very least eighteen years of child support payments he can’t afford.
Guilt, guilt and more guilt. Megan hadn’t wanted to be a burden—the way she felt with her parents, as if a lifetime of accomplishment had been wiped away by her actions.
Would she have wanted to marry Nic?
She’d loved him enough to stand up to her parents in the only way she’d known how to be
with him.
Yes.
“I think this is one of the reasons why I’ve been going back and forth so much on taking this project, Marie.”
“It’s not an easy decision with all the personal issues attached to it, but I know how much you want this project. Helping Hands is headquartering in New Orleans to help your home. You’ve got a chance to pitch in. Just because you’ve been gone a long time doesn’t mean you care any less. You grew up loving the place. Your family is there, your friends, your memories.”
“I know. I know. And the office environment will have such unique challenges because it’s outreaching into so many areas that other not-for-profits have been working since almost right after Katrina. A lot of opportunities to work in conjunction with these other groups to get even more accomplished.”
“That’s why Robert wants you, dear. You know that as well as I do. It’s a tough project. He needs your expertise, and he knows how much you like challenges.”
Megan remembered Violet’s accusation when they’d been in Nic’s office and knew her daughter was right. Marie did want to spend some time closer to her sister. Megan knew right then that Marie wouldn’t come directly out and say it because she didn’t want to influence Megan either way. “And I haven’t been stateside in such a long time.”
Silence on the other end. “That’s true as well, but your family is involved with this decision. You take the time you need to make the decision and it’ll be the right one. For everyone.”
Megan felt a tiny smile tugging at her mouth. “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate you?”
“In a thousand different ways every day.”
“Good, because I do.”
“Then trust me on this.”
The smile faded. “Oh, I do, Marie. You know that, but it’s him. I think that deep down I knew the minute I was around him again it would be all over.”
“What would be over exactly?”
“My sanity.”
“What precisely does that mean, dear?”
Oh, God, the woman had infinite patience. Why she’d chosen to remain friends all these years… “It means I get caught up in him, Marie. I managed to forget until I saw him in the airport. Or, I don’t know, maybe I thought I’d outgrown it. I’m not eighteen years old anymore. I’m a single mother with a teenage daughter. I’m a businesswoman. A well-respected businesswoman.”
“You don’t have to convince me. I agree with all of the above. Add good mother and dear friend to the list.”
Ten fifty-three.
“You’re an angel.” Megan had never meant anything more in her life.
“No, I’m your friend. And I want you to feel better.”
“Thank you so much for always being here when I need you.”
“The pleasure is mine. You know that. Just like it’s yours whenever I need you. We’re a good team.”
“I don’t think you ever need me as much as I need you.”
“Ha!” Marie said. “Our needs are different, that’s all. I can’t imagine how lonely the past few years would have been if you hadn’t allowed me to crash your family party.”
Marie’s only son had died tragically young, leaving behind a wife and child who’d gone on with their lives but weren’t all that great about including Marie.
“I thank God every day you crashed when you did.”
“Ditto, dear. Ditto. But I’m still not clear on this ‘getting caught up’ thing. What you’re describing sounds no different than what I used to feel with Ed. The man could talk me into anything, I swear. Even traveling to Haiti to volunteer my time at the maternity house when I had a lovely home, an active church and a coveted position in the garden club.”
She referred, of course, to St. Gianna’s Maternity Home for young mothers, which was where she’d first met Megan and Violet. Megan couldn’t help smiling at the memory, feeling nominally better.
“But Ed was your husband, Marie. I have no right to be getting caught up in Nic. Not now. Not especially after keeping his daughter a secret from him.”
“Megan.” Marie’s usually soft voice shifted into a warning tone. “That’s guilt talking. You made the choices you felt were best at the time. And you have to consider that while you were very young when you got involved with this man, you never really had a chance to end things properly. You’re bound to have some unresolved feelings that don’t involve guilt. You made a beautiful daughter with him. You obviously cared a great deal.”
“That makes sense.” She heaved a sigh. More in control. “What do I need to do to get things back in perspective? Will coming up with a game plan for Violet help resolve things?”
A beat of silence. “I don’t honestly know.”
“What do you mean?” Now that came as a surprise. Marie was a veritable font of worldly wisdom.
“It means that I never stopped feeling that way about Ed. I’m sure if he popped down from heaven right now and asked me to head back with him, I wouldn’t be able to say no.”
“Well, I’m sure that’s because you two were committed, married people. I just need to remember I’m an independent woman who thinks for myself, not a teenager in love.” She glanced at the clock again.
Ten fifty-seven.
Just then a familiar unmarked cruiser parked about a half a block ahead. Sure enough, the door whipped open and Nic stepped out, bristling with no-nonsense energy, so incredibly handsome with the sun bleaching out his features as he crossed the sidewalk.
“Heaven help me, there he is.” She was so aware of him. Even on a street busy with people, she noticed him right away. Responsible Nic, right on time, always someone to count on.
How long had he waited for her at Audubon Park that day so long ago when she’d promised to meet him? He’d called her house and spoken to her father. And had found out she’d kept him a secret for his trouble. He’d told her that much.
She wondered what he thought today. That she wouldn’t show up as she’d promised?
“Deep breaths, dear. Really deep. Promise me.”
“Okay.” Megan barely squeaked the word out past the sudden tightness in her throat. She had no right whatsoever to feel anything for Nic. Contrition, she’d earned. Anything else, she’d given up rights to the minute she’d decided to keep her pregnancy a secret.
But right now, with her throat tight and her heart suddenly pounding too hard, Megan could remember exactly why she’d rebelled against everything she’d known, why she’d thrown caution to the wind to be with him.
“I’ve got to go.”
“Promise you’ll call the second you can. Promise me.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too, dear. Kiss Violet for me.”
“Will do. Bye.”
Megan disconnected the call and glanced again at the clock.
Ten fifty-eight.
She’d be on time today, too.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A FEW STROKES OF A MEDIUM-TIP black ballpoint and the stamp of a notary legitimized Nic, and a new identity was born.
Violet Nicole Bell-DiLeo.
Now he, Megan and their daughter were connected in the eyes of the state. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but they were a family of three, nevertheless. He and Megan were legally bound together as parents, intimate partners according to the law.
Seemed like something momentous should mark the occasion, but there were only signatures, copies and fees.
As it was the state would only process the affidavits and issue new documentation. Violet had never been a recipient of any kind of aid so there was no reason for Nic to be investigated for payment of back child support.
The state had enough to do chasing dads whose kids were on the government’s payroll to worry about him. But Nic fully intended to contribute. He’d talk to Megan before she took off then get with his financial advisor to figure something out. One thing he did know—teens only got more expensive, not less. Cars. Insurance. Gas. Proms. Senior pictures. Class trips. C
ollege. Dorms. Meal plans. He knew the drill and intended to be a part of Violet’s life from now on to make up for lost time.
With that same few strokes of the pen, all record of Megan’s secret vanished. Violet’s original birth certificate would be sealed in an envelope and filed in the vital records registry archives. That envelope would only be opened pursuant to an order of the civil district court for good cause. He couldn’t imagine what might come up to constitute that good cause, so that was it. The past was over as far as the state of Louisiana was concerned.
He didn’t think Megan felt that way, though. And he definitely didn’t, but anger didn’t fit his mood right now, either. Not when they’d taken this significant step.
“You should come to lunch with me and Violet,” he said as they left the notary’s office.
Megan glanced up at him, clearly surprised. “I appreciate that, Nic, but you don’t have to include me. I’ve got the car. I can entertain myself.”
“I know I don’t have to. It just feels like we should do something together to make this special for her. I don’t know—a parade. Throwing beads to the crowds. Something.”
A soft smile touched her lips. “You’re right.”
“So what does she like to eat?”
“She’s pretty adventurous. Not much she won’t try.”
Nic supposed culinary flexibility came with traveling internationally. He had no real frame of reference. Most of the traveling he did was for work. Banquet rubber chicken didn’t qualify as adventurous no matter what he thought when he ate it.
When he’d been younger, he hadn’t had the money for vacations. There’d been college tuition to pay for—his and everyone else’s. Damon’s years of martial arts training hadn’t come cheaply either. And then there was always something with the house. New roof, sewer line, hot water heater…
“She’d probably enjoy someplace local to give her the flavor of the area,” Megan said. “I get the sense she considers New Orleans her hometown because she has family here.”
Nic pushed open the door for Megan and glanced at his watch to distract himself from the lingering scent of her shampoo that wafted right under his nose. Something tropical. Coconut, maybe.
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