Greg squeezed his father’s shoulder, shook his head, and said, “I guess I’m the unwilling narrator to Jessie’s story.”
Frowning deeply, Greg continued. “Hope was your daughter.”
“Was,” Dylan said on an exhale, like that one word encompassed everything it meant. He took a shallow breath and leaned back in his chair, grief enveloping his whole being. He held Will a little tighter.
“No.” Dylan’s mother gasped. Everyone turned and stared at her, standing in the doorway of the waiting room. Her face pale, she used one hand to hold on to the doorway for balance. He couldn’t believe she’d driven to the hospital. Everyone looked as surprised as him to see her there.
Panic etched into every line on her pale face. “She lied. That girl was no good from the start. She probably slept with every boy in town. She’s the reason you turned your back on college, your family, the life you should have had. She sent you that email because she wanted to use you and get her hands on the McBride money. I wouldn’t let her use a baby to reel you in again. Not then. Not now. The baby wasn’t Dylan’s. It couldn’t be.”
Dylan couldn’t believe what his mother just admitted. Sick to his stomach, he spit out, “You knew she was pregnant.”
“How did you find out? She never told Dylan,” Greg added.
“The email Jessie sent didn’t go through. The reason she called you”—Dylan turned his attention to his mother, raked his fingers through his hair in frustration, trying to put it all together and believe the unbelievable—“she called you to find me. You told her I didn’t want anything to do with her when you knew she was pregnant with my baby.”
“The baby wasn’t yours. She lied to get your attention. When it didn’t work, she left you alone.”
“After the scathing things you said to her, the things you made her believe were Dylan’s words, of course she didn’t try to contact him again.” Greg swore and hung his head. “Do you have any idea what you put her through?”
“It’s her fault. She shouldn’t have lied. She should have left Dylan alone and not filled his head with nonsense.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Dylan asked, amazed this was his mother saying this bullshit. “You know, it was bad enough you sent her that email in my name, and were cruel to her on the phone, but this is unconscionable. You let me believe she was dead. You knew she was pregnant and you never told me. You let a fifteen-year-old girl, pregnant, stabbed, and alone, believe the father of her child didn’t want her. How could you do this?” The low and soft sound of his voice did nothing to cover the deadly tone.
“I’d do anything to protect you from that girl. She’s a liar and manipulator.”
Greg and John stood behind Dylan. They both put a hand on each of his shoulders to hold him back. He strained against their grip and considered strangling his own mother for what she’d done.
“After what you’ve done, what does that make you, Mother?”
She gasped and clutched her hands to her breasts. “You’ve never spoken to me in such a manner. This is her doing. I did the right thing, protecting you from that girl.”
Dylan turned to the men behind him. He owed both of them more than he could ever imagine. They’d been with Jessie through her pregnancy. They’d been there when his daughter was born. Oh, God. They’d been there when Jessie wanted to die. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.
“Tell me where my daughter is. Tell me Jessie gave her up for adoption, and she’s out there somewhere. Tell me I still have a chance to see my daughter. Please.”
Greg grabbed on to Dylan’s arm to steady him, their eyes meeting. “There’s no easy way to tell you. She died in her mother’s arms five days after her birth. Complications from pneumonia. Jessie buried her at Saint Francis Cemetery in Solomon.”
“Oh, God.” Dylan staggered backward. He gripped Will tighter. Thanks to Greg’s help, he managed to sit in a chair before he collapsed.
Tears rolled down his face and his son held him close. He stared into nothing and fell into the past, thinking of prom night and what happened to Jessie after he left.
“Her father tried to kill her, and she was pregnant with our baby.”
Anguish and misery rolled off him as he worked things out in his mind, but it never dissipated, only grew more profound.
“Fifteen and scared to death, she had no idea what she was going to do, but she wanted that baby, with or without you,” Greg said. “No matter what happened between you, she thought you deserved to know. Jessie begged your mother to give her your number, so that she could talk to you. You’d been friends for years, even if you didn’t want to be with her, she hoped to at least change your mind about the baby.”