Ray stood and Parker followed his example.
"I know you didn't, sir. Nobody knew about me. Thank you for admitting at least the possibility that you could be my father."
Ray took Parker to the lab a few blocks away where both had blood drawn. Then, both walked back to the police station. Ray asked, "Where are you staying?"
"I've got a place."
"With friends here?"
"Not exactly."
"A homeless shelter?" Ray's eyebrows shot to his hair line.
"Yes, sir."
"No. That will never do. Get your things. You're coming home with me."
Parker shook his head. "No, sir. At least not until we know the truth. I'll come by your office in a couple of days, but thank you for the offer." Back in front of the police station, Parker got on a motorcycle and left.
Ray turned around in circles a few times, feeling his life was spiraling out of control. He jogged inside the station and spoke to his assistant.
Ray went home.
Larkin had not called him. Obviously, there was nothing seriously wrong, and he needed a few moments in the arms of his guardian angel at that point in time. Oh, my God! How do I tell Larkin? Ray asked himself as he drove.
♥♥♥ Ray walked into his house to the scent of his favorite meal. He remembered the first time he had tasted Larkin's rotisserie chicken and how beautiful she had been across the table from him. She had changed very little in the thirteen years they had been married. She was short and slight, and she might have gained five pounds. Moreover, there was not a strand of gray in her auburn hair. She was forty-one, but she didn't look a day over thirty.
Larkin came into the foyer where Ray always left his shoes. "Welcome home," she said brightly as she slipped her arms around her husband.
"Oh, this feels good," sighed Ray. "Where are the kids?" "Spending the night with Uncle Raif. Come on. I made your favorite meal." Larkin took Ray's hand and led him to the cozy dining area off the kitchen. He sat down quietly as Larkin spread dinner.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked.
"A bit. At least I'm really hungry tonight." She looked Ray over. "You look so tired though," she observed. "What's wrong?"
"I need to talk to you about something that happened today."
"All right, but I have something for you first. Do you mind?"
She's so happy. He could not douse her enthusiasm. "No, I don't mind."
Larkin handed Ray his gift. "Open it."
He opened the box and took out the baby shoes. "What's this?"
"What does it look like?"
"Baby shoes."
"Uh-hum."
"Why do I need baby shoes?"
"You don't."
Blue eyes looked at his wife who had a Cheshire-cat grin on her face. He exhaled, "Oh, my God!"
Larkin came around the table and sat on Ray's lap. "Yes, it seems we forgot something after the masquerade ball. You don't seem as excited as I thought you would be."
"Oh, Larkin, of course, I'm happy. It's just that you don't know what happened today." Ray rubbed his head.
"Are you getting a migraine?"
"Yeah."
She went to the kitchen and came back with Ray's prescription. He took a pill as she said, "Maybe you had better tell me what happened today because this is not the reaction I expected from you."
"I don't know how to tell you, especially now."
"Just say it." Her tone was a bit brusque.
"I met a young man today. His name is Parker Godchaux. I'm almost a hundred percent certain it should be Parker Reynolds."
"What?" She sank into her own chair.
"He's Mia's son, and I think mine."
Larkin looked at Ray in total disbelief before she whispered, "Is he the right age?"
Ray nodded.
"And he knows he's not Robert's?"
"No, he doesn't know. Mia might not know. He asked me to take a paternity test, and I did. Robert refused. We'll know for certain in a couple of days."
Her head leaning to one side she asked, "What does he want, Ray?"
"Just to know who his father is. He wouldn't even come home with me. He's staying in a shelter, Larkin."
"Where's Mia?"
"I don't know. I don't think he knows. Please, say something to make me feel better."
"I don't know what to say, Ray. If he's your son, it happened before I ever met you. I can't be angry or jealous about that, but I'm scared Ray."
"I would never leave you and the kids. I love you, Larkin."
"I know that. I also know you and your sense of justice. If he is your son, then you'll want to be his father. And you should. I'm not afraid of Parker. I'm afraid of Mia."
"Why?"
"She has kept this secret from you for nearly eighteen years. Your kid is sleeping in a homeless shelter. I'm sorry, Ray, if this doesn't sound like me, but that woman is a heartless bitch. If I ever meet her, I will give her a real piece of my mind."
Larkin stood. "My husband's child will not sleep at a homeless shelter tonight. Even if that child turns out to be Robert's, he will not sleep in a homeless shelter tonight. Come on. We're going to find him. It's time for him to know his father."
8 A Hard-knock Life
At the third shelter, Ray spotted the old Honda motorcycle Parker had ridden that afternoon. He and Larkin entered the dingy, but warm and dry, facility. With the four days of rain had come much cooler temperatures. As the person at the entrance announced, "We're full," without looking up, Ray flashed his badge.
"I'm Police Chief Raiford Reynolds. I'm looking for Parker Godchaux. I think he already signed in."
The tired-looking elderly man at the door looked at the registry. "Yes, he did about an hour ago. He missed dinner. Is he in some kind of trouble?"
"No."
"Go and find him, Chief."
"Thanks." Ray took Larkin's hand protectively as they walked though the crowded shelter. "There," Ray pointed out the youth who was playing spades with three much older men.
"Okay. Get your son out of here," prompted Larkin.
With his heart pounding, Ray tapped Parker on the shoulder. Parker turned around and exclaimed, "Mr. Reynolds!"
Ray commanded gently, "Get your things. I'm taking you home with me."
Parker protested, "We haven't got the test results back yet. I don't want to be a bother."
"Fooyay! You and I both know what those tests are going to confirm."
Larkin slid her hand up Ray’s arm in a calming caress. Parker surveyed the very pretty auburn-haired woman beside Ray, and Larkin smiled softly at the young man who had her husband's eyes. Ray came to his senses and introduced the two. "Larkin, this is Parker Godchaux, the young man I told you about. Parker, this is my wife, Larkin."
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Reynolds," said Parker formally as he offered a shaky hand.
Larkin took his hand and felt calluses on seventeen-yearold hands that should have been almost baby soft. "Larkin, please," she said compassionately.
Parker gave a curt nod. "Larkin, you can't seriously want me in your home."
"Why not?"
"Mr. Reynolds said he told you about me."
Ray grunted, "Ray—for now."
"Yes, he did," Larkin responded. "That's precisely why I want you in my home. If you are, indeed, Ray's son, you'll be most welcome. On the other hand, if Robert LaFontaine proves to be your father, well, we were once friends, and you'll still be welcome."
"Mr. LaFontaine is not a nice person," said Parker matterof-factly. "I hope he's not my father."
Larkin laughed softly. "Yes, he was most definitely a jerk. Now, get your things because Ray isn't a jerk."
"No, he seems nice enough," said Parker as he made eye contact with Larkin. Then, he looked at Ray. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," Ray replied with a nod.
Parker turned to the older card players who had been listening intently. "Excuse me, guys. You'll need to find another player. I'm
gonna sleep in a real bed tonight." Parker disappeared and returned a minute later with a backpack.
"That's it?" asked Ray.
"Yes, sir."
Outside, Ray said, "Get your bike and follow us. Where'd you get it?"
"I stole it, of course."
Ray stopped and looked at the boy with raised eyebrows as he asked, "Really?"
"No, but I had a hard time convincing the cops in Kenner of that. I saved up money from odd jobs and bought her. She didn't even run. I fixed her up. She purrs now." Parker beamed with pride.
"Sounds as if it's in the blood," joked Larkin. "Ray restores old cars," she explained.
"Really?" asked Parker as his face lit up in curiosity and excitement.
"Yes, I'll show you," Ray said, "but I don't think it's in the blood. Raif doesn't tinker with old cars. He would get too dirty."
"Who's Raif?" asked Parker.
Ray answered, "My twin brother."
Larkin said, "Raif builds miniature villages with miniature people and animals—all to scale. He has a Victorian village that he displays in his front yard at Christmas. He even has Christmas carols playing."
"Awesome!" Parker said, showing that he was still very much a little boy on some levels.
His outburst stung Larkin's eyes with tears as she realized this child had not had a good life. She asked gently, "Parker, where's your mother?"
He shrugged. "I last saw her about a year ago just before the judge put me in another foster home."
"Did you run away?" asked Ray.
Parker snorted. "Yes. I've only been in this home a couple of weeks. I just got out of"—He stepped back, unsure of the response he might get—"juvey."
"For what?" asked Ray.
"This time?" Parker asked.
Ray arched an eyebrow. "Just how many times have you been to juvey?"
"Several." Can't lie to him. He's a cop and could find out anyway. He shrugged, hands held out to his sides. "Usually just overnight or a week in a nothing environment, but this last time was six months in maximum juvey, you know, reform school." He raised his eyebrows for emphasis. "I'm sure I'll be headed back after this family reports me missing, if they do. I don't think they really care. I only have six months until I turn eighteen. They'll probably just keep quiet, get their check, and let me pass out of the system and their hair."
Ray's eyes stretched wide open and his brows shot to his hairline, but he asked, "What exactly did you do to get six months in reform school?"
"I hit my foster father, and I'm not sorry, and I'd do it again." Defiance permeated Parker's declaration as his every muscle tensed.
Not a topic for the street, Ray determined.
Parker said a little bitterly, "Now, I'll just go back inside because I'm sure you don’t want me to go with you."
"Follow us," Ray said. "You have a lot to learn about this family."
"Umm…" Parker hesitated.
Ray shook his head. "No discussion." There was no threat in his voice, but his tone brooked no argument.
In the car, Ray looked at Larkin, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "Chill," she said, rubbing her husband's arm. "There's a long story ahead of us tonight."
♥♥♥ Finally at the house, Parker stood in awe as he looked around the massive restored antebellum home. His mouth gaped slightly and his eyes bulged. He blinked several times. Have I died and gone to Heaven?
Larkin took his hand. "Are you hungry?" she asked. Parker could not help but smell the chicken. He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"Come in the kitchen. Ray and I didn't finish dinner. We'll
eat together."
In the kitchen dining nook decorated in autumn colors with
rust-and-gold-striped wallpaper, Larkin indicated a dark oak
ladder-back, cane-bottom chair next to Ray's at the polished
table with four placemats of a fall leaf pattern. "Sit down, and
I'll get you a plate," she said.
Parker was not sure how to respond to someone's waiting
on him. She's serving my plate? I must be dreaming. While he
waited, he picked up the baby shoes that remained on the table.
"What are these?"
"Baby shoes," replied Larkin.
Ray rubbed his head again as the migraine was being
persistent. He reached for the prescription that sat on the table
and popped another pill.
"You okay?" asked Parker.
"Migraines."
"Yeah. I get 'em, too, but I don't have any pills. I just get
sick."
"We'll take care of that," Ray said as he patted Parker's
shoulder. "At your age, a healthy diet will make a huge
difference. If that doesn’t get rid of the headaches, we’ll try
some herbal remedies before we even think about medication.
Drugs will be a last resort."
Parker nodded. "Okay." Then he cut his eyes back to the
shoes.
"Larkin gave me the baby shoes as her way of telling me
we're having another baby," Ray explained.
"Wow!" said Parker. "You've had a full day, finding out
about your eldest and your youngest back to back. I saw the
pictures on the wall. You have two more?"
Ray nodded as Larkin placed terracotta stoneware plates in
front of the two men and sat down to her own.
"Where are they?" asked Parker.
"Spending the night with Raif because I wanted to tell Ray
about the baby," Larkin answered.
Drooping one eyelid, Parker voiced his doubt. "So, you
didn't send 'em away because of me?"
"No, Parker, I didn't even know about you when I sent them
to Raif's."
"Okay." Parker took a bite of the broccoli. He looked down
at his plate and up peripherally at the two adults. Suddenly, he
picked up the chicken breast and devoured it as if he had not
eaten in days.
A hand flying to her throat, Larkin asked, "Parker, when
did you last eat?"
Realizing how uncouth he must have seemed, Parker tried
to swallow before he answered. "On the thirteenth just after I saw Mr. LaFontaine. I stole the ten bucks that was on his
desk."
"Damn it to hell!" shouted Ray as he slammed his hand
onto the table. "Did your mother ever take care of you or teach
you right from wrong?"
Parker sat far back in the chair, waiting to be hit. "It's all
right," Larkin said as she took Parker's grease covered hand. "No, it's not!" screamed Ray as he stood.
"Ray!" said Larkin. "Sit down and stop it. You're scaring
the hell out of the kid."
Ray sat down but still talked loudly. "I'm sorry, but it
makes me angry to know my son has to steal to live, to eat.
Parker, I swear to God if I had known about you, this would
not be happening to you."
"Are you mad at me?" asked Parker, eyes round as saucers,
a slight tremor in his voice. "I can go back to the shelter.
Honestly, I'm okay there."
"No. No. I'm sorry. I'm not angry with you." He clenched
his fist and let it go. "I do want to know what has happened to
you. Did Mia ever take care of you?"
"When she wasn't coming off a high." Parker nodded. "High?" Ray took several breaths. "She was using drugs?" "Off and on. She was in and out of rehab. The first time the
judge took me away from her, I think I was three." Parker took
a bite the roll on his plate.
Ray and Larkin tried to eat and encouraged Parker to share
his story as he ate in a more reasonable manner. He ate every
bite on his plate before he talked. He seemed reluctant to
speak.
Ho
w much do I tell them? What if Ray turns out not to be
my father? Will they really let me stay here in this beautiful
place? He looked around the cozy room.
Larkin said, "Talk to us, Parker. You don't have to be
afraid."
How does she know I'm scared? "I'm not afraid," he said. Ray placed his elbows on the table and tented his fingers,
putting his index fingers to his lips. "I'd be scared shitless." "Really?" Parker asked.
"Really." Ray laced his fingers together and rested his chin
on them. "You know, I can find out facts from court records,
even a minor, but I want to hear about your life from you. We
will welcome you into our home, but I want to know a little bit
about you. So, it's up to you. Tell us your story, or I can just
snoop."
Trapped. Okay. You asked for it. A tiny lopsided grin
played around his mouth.
"Mom had this boyfriend for a while. He took pretty good
care of me. Then, he disappeared. Mom went to rehab, and I
went to a foster home. That was the second one. I've been in
seven, no, eight. The last one was only a few days before I took
off. Mom would get clean, and I'd go back to live with her.
Then, she'd get high, and I'd go to another home."
Parker held tightly to Larkin's hand as if holding on to her
would keep him safe. "Her boyfriend came back when I was
eleven. His name was Fritz. He used to say he was 'Fritz the
Cat.' When he came back, I didn't recognize him. He was
cleaned up and clean. He had cut his ponytail and wore decent
clothes. He told Mom if she'd get her act together, he'd take us
to New York with him. A few days later, he came to my bed." "He what?" Ray interrupted, his voice an octave higher
than normal.
"No, no, not like that." Parker waved his hand. "There was
just a curtain separating my cot from the sleeper sofa. The
apartment was basically one big room and a bathroom. Mom
and Fritz used the sleeper. He came over and sat down on the
cot. He mussed my hair the way he always did. He told me he
was leaving. He explained that if he stayed, Mom would only
Heartless (The Raiford Chronicles) Page 6