His Twin Baby Surprise

by Patricia Forsythe

  * * *

  MAUREEN SAT IN her car staring at a building, much as she had on her first day back in Reston. Only this wasn’t her daughter’s real-estate office. It was Jackson Iron Works in Muskogee. The front of the establishment was fenced with wrought iron beautifully decorated with leaves and vines. The small yard was crowded with metal and wood park benches, whimsical animals, enormous flowers painted bright colors and a horse at least eight feet tall. The entire display was overwhelming while also being artistic.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Clive asked from the passenger seat. He’d offered to drive her but she’d wanted to be in complete charge of this trip. It was her way of proving to Lisa that she was doing all she could to locate John Jackson. In truth, Lisa probably couldn’t have cared less about Maureen and Clive’s travel arrangements.

  A few days ago she had worked up her courage to return Lisa’s calls. It had been awkward, but joyful, too, when she had learned her daughter was having twins. Hearing that had strengthened her resolve to find Lisa’s father. She and Lisa couldn’t move forward until every effort had been made to find him. When that happened, she was sure she would have a better shot at developing a more normal relationship with her daughter.

  “I do want to do it if your son...if Todd thinks this is truly Lisa’s father.”

  “It’s the only lead that’s panned out and if he’s sure, I’m sure. You’ve spent every spare minute for weeks tracking this guy down and Todd has put in a lot of time, too. There’s every reason to think it’s the right guy.”

  Maureen looked over at him and nodded, giving him a shaky smile. “Thank you for coming with me. I’m so used to doing everything myself, it never occurred to me to ask for help until you mentioned Todd’s job. I’m glad you didn’t mind the time I spent on this search.”

  Clive shrugged. “Your work didn’t suffer, and I’ve got to keep my cook happy.”

  And she was happy. Instead of trying to remain unnoticed as she’d done for years in almost every previous job, she had begun making friends in Peachdale. Rather than wallowing in self-pity, she had focused on her plan to find Lisa’s birth father.

  When she had told Clive the truth about herself, about how she had abandoned her daughter to a fate she couldn’t face herself, he hadn’t been judgmental. Instead he’d called Todd and asked for his help. Although his son couldn’t use the resources of his police department for a private search, he had given her many tips and spent his own time helping her out.

  They had begun the search in April and had followed numerous leads, false starts and wrong turns over the past several weeks. She had actually gone to take a surreptitious look at two of them, but neither man fit the memory she carried in her head, even after she had accounted for all the years in between.

  “Do you want me to come in with you? I can pretend to be interested in that giant horse.”

  “Where would you put it?” Maureen asked with a chuckle.

  “On top of the café. It would be quite an attention-getter.”

  “It sure would.” She paused, knowing he was waiting for an answer to his question. “No. I need to do this on my own.”

  Clive leaned the seat back as far as it would go. “Call me, or come and get me if you need me. I’ll just take a little nap while I wait. Thanks for parking in the shade.” He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

  Maureen paused. “Clive, when I told you about my daughter and how...I’d left her, you didn’t judge me. Why was that?”

  He turned his head to look at her as he shrugged. “Why would I? I’m not perfect, done some things I’m not proud of. In the Marines, you learn everybody has a story, a background they might want to forget, so you do forget in order to focus on the job that needs to be done. Besides, you’d already spent thirty-three years beating yourself up over it. No need for me to add any more blows.”

  “You’re a really good man, Clive Forrest. I’m lucky to know you.”

  Clive grinned as he closed his eyes. “That’s what they all say. I’ve got my phone right here. Call me if you need me.”

  “Okay.”

  Maureen stepped out and smoothed the front of the blue camp shirt she wore with crisp jeans and polished boots. The May sunshine felt good on her back, though she knew it was a promise of the summer heat and humidity that was to come.

  She opened the gate and crossed the yard, pushing open the front door before she could lose her nerve. An old-fashioned bell over the door announced her arrival. She found herself in a large room full of shelves and tables of all sorts of wrought-iron art objects.

  Beneath a display table, a family of coyotes marched across the floor, accompanied by one of quail, all of them watched over by a hungry-looking coyote. Some of the items were painted bright colors and some were in shades of rusty brown.

  “Hello,” a voice called out from the other end of the room. “Welcome to Jackson’s. Let me know if I can help you find anything.”

  Maureen looked up to see a young woman arranging candlesticks on a table. She was a short, chubby girl with a cheerful smile who appeared to be in her late teens or early twenties.

  “Thank you. There are so many interesting and unusual things here, it’s hard to choose.”

  The girl grinned. “I know what you mean. If you’re looking for a gift for someone, though, you can’t go wrong with the quail. People love them.”

  “They’re very cute. Do you order these from somewhere else or are they made locally?”

  “My dad makes them, mostly from reclaimed iron. He’s got a shop out back. Are you interested in a special order?”

  “Your dad is John Jackson?”

  “That’s right,” the girl said proudly. “And I’m Zoe.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Maureen turned away, pretending interest in a parrot in a cage that swung from a wall hook. Somehow, in all of her searching, she hadn’t counted on John having other children, ones who were younger than Lisa, and might be hurt to find out about her. Back then, he’d told her he’d had a son, who would be in his late thirties now. Old enough to handle finding out his father was a philanderer. But this girl appeared to be barely out of her teens. How would she accept such news?

  On the other hand, this might not even be the John Jackson she sought. And if it was, it was his decision to share the news about Lisa. She was trying to think of a way to ask after him when the girl handed it to her.

  “Are you interested in a custom-made piece? Dad gets lots of orders for those.” Zoe grinned. “One lady wanted new front gates for her house made in the shape of angel wings. They turned out great.”

  “That sounds interesting. Yes, I might want to discuss something like that with him.”

  “Outstanding,” Zoe said. “I can’t leave the front right now, but you’re welcome to go on out the back door. The workshop is across the courtyard.”

  “Thanks.” Maureen followed the sound of metal striking metal outside.

  The doors and windows of the workshop were open, which made it possible for her to look inside.

  A man was pounding the end of a metal rod. After several blows with a mallet, he picked it up, examined the end and then laid it next to a row of similar rods. He set the mallet down and took a minute to twist his hips, stretching his back.

  When he turned his head, Maureen knew she’d found the man she’d been looking for. He was older, of course, chunkier, with the massive arms of a man who worked with iron. His hair was thinning and going gray, but it was certainly the man she remembered.

  Memories flooded back, of what it had been like to have his full attention, to have him tell her how pretty she was.

  She stepped inside. “Hello,” she said.

  He turned around. “Oh, hello. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. What can I do for you?”

 
Her palms were sweating, and she rubbed them on her jeans as she cleared her throat. “You’re John Jackson, right?”

  He tilted his head in a little sideways dip she remembered. “Yeah, the last I heard. You looking to order a custom-made piece?”

  “I’m sure you don’t remember me, John, but I’m Maureen Thomas.”

  He stepped closer to get a better look at her. “Hello, Maureen. I’m afraid you’ll have to remind me where we met.”

  “You seriously don’t remember?”

  “No, sorry.”

  He shrugged as if it wasn’t that important, so her voice was testy when she said, “At the Burger Barn in Toncaville, right here in Oklahoma, almost thirty-four years ago.”

  He peered closely at her, then felt in his shirt pocket for a pair of glasses, which he put on to look at her even more closely.

  She lifted an eyebrow at him as she waited.

  He frowned. “Toncaville, I don’t—” His eyes widened. “Oh, yes, Maureen. I...I do remember you.” He licked his lips nervously. “How are you? How did you find me, after all these years?”

  “Determination.”

  His gaze darted guiltily to the open windows and door. That told her he definitely remembered her.

  “Do you have an office or somewhere we can talk?” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “What I have to say probably isn’t something you want your daughter to hear.”

  “Yes, okay. Over here.” He pointed to a room at the back of the shop and Maureen preceded him inside.

  John gave a quick look around the shop before he shut the door. He moved a stack of mail and newspapers off a chair, gave it a dust-off with his bare hand and said, “Here, sit down.”

  He took a seat on the other side of a scarred and dented metal desk. Clasping his hands together on top of a pile of papers, he asked, “So, what can I do for you?”

  “You can agree to meet your daughter.”

  He frowned and pointed toward the store at the front of the property. “My daughter is—”

  “Not that one. Zoe seems like a very sweet girl, and I’m sure you don’t want her hurt.”

  “No, of course not. You can’t come in here threatening—”

  “I’m not making threats. I’m talking about your older daughter. My daughter. Her name is Lisa.”

  “Lisa?”

  “That’s right.” As she spoke, her confidence grew. “I came to tell you about her because I’ve decided there’s no point in holding back any information about her, or about me.”

  Maureen told him everything that had happened since he had made love to her and abandoned her, concluding with her recent visit to Lisa, who was herself expecting twins now.

  “You lied to me. You got me pregnant. I’m surprised to discover the name you gave me was real. You said you worked at a garage outside town, but when I called, they’d never heard of you.”

  “Uh, well, I didn’t really have a job. I didn’t want you to think I was a deadbeat.”

  “Well, guess what? You were, and now you owe me. You owe Lisa.”

  John made a strangled sound. His hands moved back and forth across the cluttered desk as if he was searching for something without looking down. “You want money? All I’ve got is this business and my house. I can’t give you my retirement fund. Sheesh,” he muttered. “My wife will kill me.”

  “I don’t want money. I told you, all I want is for you to meet Lisa. She deserves to know her father, and her siblings.”

  He frowned in confusion. “There’s just the one. Zoe.”

  “But you said you were married and had a little boy.”

  He shifted in his chair. “Ah, yeah, about that. I lied about having a wife and kid, too,” he admitted, shamefaced. “It was what I always told the girls I dated.”

  “Good grief! There’s more? Do you have kids scattered all over the state?”

  “Nah. At least, I don’t think so. You’re the first one who’s showed up. I said what I said because I didn’t want you thinking there was a chance I’d marry you.”

  “What you did was against the law, John. I was sixteen. A minor.”

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry.” He leaned forward, propped his elbows on the desk and dropped his face into his hands.

  Maureen waited in silence until he seemed to have control of himself.

  His hands fell onto the desktop. “What do you want from me?”

  “Only for you to do the right thing.” Reaching into her purse, she took out Lisa’s card. “She’s a successful Realtor in Reston, and currently she’s acting mayor. She’s very accomplished and...and brilliant.”

  He took the card, which looked delicate in his work-roughened hand. “A Realtor and mayor, huh? You must be proud of her.”

  “I am.”

  “It sounds like she’s really made something of herself.” He placed the card on top of the assorted papers and mess on the desk.

  “She has and it’s all her own doing. I...I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t there for her, but I’m going to be now, and that starts with telling her I found you and that you want to meet her.”

  Looking up he said, “I can’t, Maureen. I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry for what I put you through. It...it sounds like you made hard choices and I’m sorry for that, too, but I can’t meet her, be part of her life. I’ve got to think of my family. My wife will be furious and Zoe will—”

  “Find out about your past.”

  He lifted his hand as if to ward off a blow. “I told you, I’m not proud of it. I was screwed up for a long time, took advantage of everyone I met, had no consideration, no conscience. It changed when I moved here, learned to do iron work, met my wife, had my daughter.” His eyes were pleading. “I’ve got a good life here, Maureen. I can’t mess that up.”

  She knew she shouldn’t have expected anything more. She didn’t really know him, and she’d been too young and naive to see what kind of man he was when she was sixteen. Now he was concerned for the welfare of his family, as she was for hers. She couldn’t fault him for that even though it hurt. Still, she had some information for Lisa, proof that she had found him.

  She stood and hooked her purse over her shoulder. “If you change your mind, my phone number is on the back of Lisa’s card. I know she would be happy to meet you.”

  He didn’t stand to see her out, only sat and stared at the card.

  To her relief, she saw that she wouldn’t have to walk back through the main store to return to her car. There was a gate, no doubt more of John’s ironwork, that opened to a side street.

  Maureen hurried to her car and fell into the front seat.

  Clive, who had been napping, woke with a start, rubbed his hands over his face and said, “How’d it go?”

  “Not well,” she answered and burst into tears.

  Clive sat straight and reached out to give her an awkward pat on the back. That made her cry even harder. Fumbling around, he found a package of tissues and pulled out several, which he used to dab at her face.

  “There now,” he said. “I’m sorry it was so bad. Do you want me to go in and talk to the guy?”

  She took the tissues and said, “No. I came on too strong, too accusatory. I don’t blame him for feeling defensive.” She paused to catch her breath. “I can’t make him see her if he doesn’t want to.”

  “Did he say he wouldn’t see her?”

  Maureen nodded and related the entire conversation to him, including the full extent of the lies John had told her. “I was so young and stupid.”

  “And he took advantage of that.”

  “He said he’s sorry, but he doesn’t want to ruin the life he’s got now.”

  Clive whistled between his teeth. “Irresponsible jerk.”

  “He swears he’s changed. I
hope he has. He won’t agree to see Lisa.”

  “No, but now it’s not your choice. You told him all about her, right?” Clive continued to pat her on the back.

  “Yeh...hes.”

  “Then it’s out of your hands. You hope he’s changed, but you don’t know what kind of man he is now. He was a rat in his earlier years, but now he might be the kind who’ll do the right thing.”

  Maureen nodded and mopped up her tears. “He does seem to care about his family.”

  “Then he has changed.” Clive opened his door. “Why don’t we switch places? You’re not really in any condition to drive.”

  Willingly, Maureen traded sides with him.

  As they headed toward Peachdale, she leaned back in her seat and turned to face him. “Thank you, Clive. The day I walked into the Peachdale Café, I had no idea how my life would change for the better.”

  “Me, neither.”

  The grin he gave her spread a warm, sweet feeling through her. She took a deep breath and released it slowly, feeling the tension flow out of her. Clive was right. She had done all she could. Now it was up to John.

  She had come far since last winter when she’d been so deathly ill. At her lowest point, she’d hung on to the promise she had made to Violet that she would make amends with Lisa. She and her daughter might never have a normal mother/daughter relationship, but they were making steps.

  Her thoughts drifted to where she was now.

  She had lost everything in Chicago, everything she had worked toward for so long. She’d left there barely hanging on to her health, with a car that was past its prime and with all her possessions packed in boxes in the backseat and trunk.

  Now she was well. She had a job, a place to live and a new town. Best of all, there was someone who had her back.

  “Clive?” Her voice was hesitant because she didn’t know what kind of answer she was going to get to her next question.

  “Yes?”

  “Why are you doing all of this for me? I’m just the cook in your café. You don’t really owe me anything.”