"She wasn't … right."
"Right?" Drake's voice is so soft, it is menacing.
"It was not just that. It just wasn't part of the plan."
"Plan?" Drake echoes
"I was young, a hot head. I saw her and I wanted her. It was a mistake. I was dating your mother, and we were supposed to get married, and … "
"My stepmother," Drake reminds him. "She's not my real mother, is she?"
"Right, right," his father says. "It was just … easier. For everyone concerned."
Drake looks at him incredulously. "It wasn't easier for Morgan. You stole her baby."
His father opens his mouth to say something, but we hear footsteps coming out of the kitchen; everyone turns, and my eyes land on the woman who I assume raised Drake. She is dressed in exactly the way that Hollywood portrays rich housewives. Slim, well-cut skirt, a cream sweater, pale lipstick, and a perfectly coiffured blonde hair. She even has a strand of pearls around her neck. There is a smile on her face as she comes through, but it freezes into a rictus grin as she looks around. Even before anyone can even say a word she recognizes instantly that something terrible is going on.
"He knows," Drake's father murmurs to her.
A look of horror passes her face, but she blinks and hopes it is not what she thinks it is. "About what?"
"About Morgan," his father says quietly.
She clasps her hand over her mouth. Tears well up in her eyes, and my heart aches for her, despite everything. I watch her gather herself a little and then speak.
"You have to understand," she urges her son.
"I don't actually," he says, his voice hard and so cold, I shiver.
She takes a few steps towards him and holds out her hands in a desperate gesture. "Your father just wanted the best for you."
"Mom, what the hell are you defending him for? He cheated on you."
The words don't faze her. "We were all kids then. He made his mistakes and I've learned to live with it. All men sow wild oats when they are young. Look how many women you've had."
"Are you trying to compare my whoring to Dad stealing someone else's baby?" Drake burst out.
"He didn't steal you. He is your father. All he wanted to do was give you the best life you could possibly have, and I think he has done an amazing job."
"Did you know he wanted to have her pregnancy terminated?"
She doesn't flinch. "That was before you were born. He didn't know you then. We both love you now. You are everything to us."
"So, that makes it all okay, does it?"
Her lips thin. "Don't judge us so harshly. We were children ourselves, Drake. But we've changed, grown up. It was a very difficult time … for all of us"
"I can't believe this. I just can't believe this." Drake throws his hands up in the air incredulously. "You stole someone else's child and you think it was a difficult time for you." Drake spat in her direction, moving away from her. I flinch at the harshness of his tone. His mother backs away and goes to her husband's side, where he puts an arm around her protectively.
"If both of you really did it for my own good why have you never mentioned this before. Did you not think I might want to know?"
"I didn't want you to have to worry about it!" His father shoots back, suddenly regaining his voice, his tone rising defensively. "You were too young, and then you were busy practicing to get on the team. You were on a good path. Why would I do anything to confuse or derail you? I was always trying to do the best thing for you. It was always for your benefit."
"You were never ever going to tell me, were you?" Drake asks.
His father sighs.
Drake takes another step towards his father. "You were just going to let her die without me ever knowing that my mom wasn't the woman who gave birth to me?" His voice echoes loudly off the walls of the enormous hallway.
"I was going to figure out a way to tell you before that happened," his father scoffs. He glances over in my direction. I guess he saw the look on my face, the look that said things aren't as simple as that. His gaze flicks back to Drake.
"Is she … sick?" he murmurs, and I swear I see a flicker of sadness move across his face.
"Very," Drake says, his face black as thunder. "That's why she invited me out to meet her. She wanted me to know the truth before … before … "
He tries a couple more times, but the words aren't forthcoming. I want to reach out to comfort him, but I see that every muscle in his body is so tense he is almost vibrating with fury. He doesn't want comfort. He wants someone to take his anger out on, someone to be righteously mad at, and with his father standing right in front of him with no excuses and nowhere to hide, Drake isn't going to let him get away with lying to him any longer.
He shakes his head. "What a turn up for the book. I'm adopted."
"You're not!" His father pointed out. "I'm your real-"
"My real father," Drake cuts in, his voice cutting and sharp, as though he's finally figured out what he wants to say. "I don't even know who the hell you are, anymore."
And with that, he turns towards me, shoots one more look over his shoulder, and taking my hand in his, starts to stride away.
"Drake," his father calls.
He doesn't turn back and I hear his mother say, "Let him be. He'll calm down. He just needs a bit of time."
Drake wrenches open the door and we step outside. He is holding my hand so tightly it. "You're hurting me," I cry
"I'm sorry," he says, and instantly releases my hand.
Silently we climb back into the car.
"Drake?"
He turns towards me, and I see that he is still shaking with rage.
"Are you okay?"
"I need to go check into a hotel," he mumbles, and he rests his palms on the wheel. Until that moment I didn't even notice that we switched positions. He had naturally gotten into the driver's side and me into the passenger seat.
"Are you sure that's a good idea? Don't you think you should go back and talk to your parents?" I suggest reasonably. "I know what they did is wrong, but believe me, I know Morgan, and this is not at all what she had in mind. She didn't want to break your family unit up. She would be very sad if she knew what trouble this has caused. She just wanted to meet you."
"Well, what did she think would happen?" he lashes out.
"Don't forget she didn't know they hadn't told you about the adoption. She thought you already knew. All she really wanted to do was say goodbye."
He drops his head and stares at his shoes. Then he slams his right hand on the steering wheel.
"Talk to your parents, Drake. Please. Everybody makes mistakes. They were all so young."
"I need time to think," he says suddenly and turns the key in the ignition. "I'll drop you off back home and get a taxi to the city."
I don't say anything, and he blinks twice and turns towards me. His eyes are suddenly glowing and his voice throbs with intensity. "Or you could come with me to the hotel?"
It takes me a second to realize what he's suggesting. My eyes widen with surprise, and I stutter over my words. "Uh, yeah, uh, well-" I try to pull myself together.
"Spit it out, Reese."
I know that I shouldn't take him up on his suggestion given the state of mind he is in, and I know this isn't how I wanted all of this to go down, but at the same time, I crave him in a way I haven't needed anyone before in my life. He is still staring at me hungrily. I lick my lip and his eyes follow like a hungry dog.
You know what? I'm going to take this chance to be with him no matter what the circumstances.
"Let's go," I say firmly.
A flash of fierce pride jumps into his eyes. Then he turns his gaze to the road and sets the car into motion.
Chapter Nine
Drake
I drive fast, faster than I should in someone else's car, faster than I've driven in a long time. I just want to put as much distance as possible between me and my parents' betrayal. I trusted them completely. Fuck, they didn't even let me believe Santa Claus existed because it was wrong to cheat kids! They robbed me of that innocent fantasy and lied about this massive deal!
My mind flashes with memories of my childhood. All kinds of images slam into my head. Everything was a lie. I try to figure out if there is some way I could have known this. If I had been more vigilant, could I have put the pieces together before now? Even raging with anger, I know I still love both my parents, and I always will, but what they did to that poor woman.
Unforgivable.
My heart bleeds for Morgan. All those wasted years pining for me. Carefully cutting out my pictures from newspapers and magazines, and framing them all. Making a shrine for me. Watching every game. She was pale and frail. Like she could die any moment.