Secrets of Paternity(3)

"Seems to me you should learn to park your bike differently."

He laughed, then after a brief hesitation he reached into the inside  pocket of his jacket and pulled out a business card, passing it to her.  "I'll see you in a few days, Ms … . Mysterious."

He walked away. She looked at his card. James Paladin, Investigator, ARC Security & Investigations.

Well. Maybe he wasn't like Paul, after all.





Two





An hour later Caryn was holding her breath as she waited for her son to say something. Anything.

"I don't want to meet him," Kevin muttered at last.

He pushed away from the kitchen table and stalked to the window  overlooking their tiny backyard. Caryn sat quietly, giving him time to  let the idea of James Paladin settle. She'd had a week's advantage on  him in that regard, but she was by no means calm or accepting, either.                       
       
           



       

She'd explained everything she knew-that Paul had chosen James  specifically as the sperm donor, that they'd entered into a written  agreement which stated that the resulting child, if there was one, would  have the right to contact James upon turning eighteen. She told Kevin  how she'd found the agreement in Paul's paperwork, then about the other  letter giving James's current contact information. That was it. Bare  bones information. No note saying he still wanted to meet Kevin. No hint  at all. Name, correct address-she'd double-checked that-and phone  number. Period.

"I don't have to see him," Kevin added, his arms crossed, his tone harsh. "The agreement says so."

"That's right. Nothing requires you to."

He shoved his hands through his hair, as James had done earlier. The  gesture caught her by surprise. Maybe Kevin had always done that, but it  took on more significance now-heredity, not environment.

"I wish you hadn't told me," he said, firing a look at her.

"I wish I hadn't had to."

His hesitation lasted several beats. "'Never make a promise you can't  keep, and always keep your promises,'" he said, parroting a lifetime of  her own words to him.

It wasn't only her philosophy but Paul's, as well. She'd fulfilled her  end of the bargain. Now she was free of the technical part of her  responsibility. She still had to deal with the results of backing into  his Harley-plus if Kevin did at some point decide to meet him, the  emotional aspects of the whole business.

She stood, smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt. Her fingertips brushed  against the outline of the business card in her pocket. "He's a private  investigator, by the way," she said, giving him the last piece of  information, one she thought might interest him too much.

Kevin lifted his head. "Yeah?"

"Will you tell me if you decide to meet him?" she asked, wishing she  could hug him as though he were five years old again and make everything  better. He'd had a horrible time adjusting to Paul's death.

"I guess so."

"You want to stay for dinner?" she asked.

"Nah. Jeremy's coming over to study. He's bringing pizza."

"Okay." Caryn had bought an old duplex near Kevin's college. They each had their own two-bedroom unit, his downstairs.

"How'd work go?" he asked.

"Good tips today."

"Was Venus there?"

"Yes." She grabbed a glass from the cupboard, turning away from him,  keeping her frown to herself. Kevin's crush on the young waitress who  worked with Caryn worried her. He didn't need another obsession in his  life, and Venus was fast becoming one.

"Did she … say anything about me?"

"No." Caryn kept her voice upbeat and didn't ask questions.

"Okay." He started to leave but stopped, his hand on the doorknob. "What does he-" He frowned. "Do I look like him?"

She nodded. The similarities struck her anew. The same facial features,  except eye color. And their hands-long fingers and broad palms. Close in  height, too, although James had a man's body, while Kevin was still  growing into his.

"Why did Dad choose this guy?"

"I don't know. I gather they knew each other, but I don't know what the connection was."

"Okay." He banged his open hand against the doorjamb. "Later."

After the front door shut she tried to find something mindless to do.  She opened the refrigerator, stared inside it, then shut the door. She'd  lost weight since Paul died, pounds she hadn't needed to lose. She  should fix herself a meal, but she doubted she could eat more than a  bite, anyway.

She walked across the slightly warped hardwood floor to where a portable  phone hung on the charger base. She picked up the handset. After a  minute she carefully returned it to the base. Who could she call? No  one. Not until Kevin made a decision to acknowledge James. Until then  she couldn't tell her mother, her brother or even her best friend.

She'd had such hope for this move back to her hometown. Some people  thought she was clinging to Kevin, that she'd bought the duplex in order  to keep him close instead of turning him loose as an independent adult.  Maybe that was partly true. He'd had an even harder time than she had  adjusting to Paul's death, yet he'd decided to attend Paul's alma mater,  to major in criminal justice, like his father.

She worried that Paul's life philosophy was embedded in Kevin, that he  would take as many risks, revel in them, actually. He already had the  notion that the accident that ended Paul's life was intentional, even  though law enforcement people from more than one agency had been  involved in the investigation, and nothing they found indicated any hint  of truth to Kevin's claim.                       
       
           



       

Lately Caryn had been wondering the same thing, if not worse.

She took a sip of water, letting go of her worries about Paul and  focused on Kevin instead. She'd listened as friends and family advised  her to let go of him, that it was time for him to spread his wings-and  she'd ignored the advice, because she knew her son better than anyone  else did, and she knew he wasn't ready to be cut loose yet. When he was,  she would know. She hoped it would be soon, for both their sakes.

For now, however, her longtime curiosity about the man whose generosity  had given her Kevin had been satisfied. He was tall, dark and handsome,  and her son clearly resembled him. And the man was capable of keeping  his temper under control, as witnessed by his demeanor toward her after  she'd run into his bike. He was in a profession that required  intelligence, cunning, quick-on-his-feet reaction-and a willingness to  take risks, the part of Paul she'd had the hardest time dealing with  through the years. With good reason, as she'd discovered.

Had Kevin also wondered about the man? She and Paul had never kept it  secret that Kevin had been conceived by artificial insemination. But  then, Paul had never mentioned James Paladin and the agreement. She  understood, perhaps, why Paul had kept it from Kevin, but why hadn't he  told her? If she hadn't found the letter of agreement, what would've  happened? Would James have found Kevin and her instead, and accused them  of not biding by the agreement?

If Kevin didn't contact the man within a certain amount of time, would  he come looking? It wouldn't be too difficult for a competent private  investigator to find out where they lived.

Maybe she would have to intervene, after all, if only to say that Kevin didn't want contact yet.

But she would give Kevin some time first. Just a little time. She hoped James would, too.



That same evening, James's doorbell rang. His gut clenched as he hurried  downstairs and to the front door. Even after a twenty-year career  dominated by anticipation, he was surprised at the almost staggering  sense of expectation that surged through him every time the phone rang  or someone came to the door. But then, this wasn't work related.

"I come bearing food," Cassie Miranda said as she shouldered her way past him, trailing a scent of basil and garlic.

He masked his disappointment-or relief, he wasn't sure-that an  eighteen-year-old with maybe his own green eyes wasn't standing there  instead. He wished he knew whether he was waiting for a boy or girl.  "Did we have plans, Cass?"

She looked around. "Do you have company?"

"No."

"Heath is in Seattle. I got lonely."

He shut the door and followed her to the kitchen. "You've been engaged for three weeks and you've forgotten how to eat alone?"

"Amazing, isn't it?"

James knew why Cassie was there, and it had nothing to do with her  fiancé being out of town. In the almost-year that James and Cassie had  worked as investigators at ARC Security & Investigations, they,  along with their boss, Quinn Gerard, had forged a friendship rare for  such independent souls. They were the only people he'd told about what  was happening in his life, what he was waiting for.