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Finally, he answers, “I was going through a box of Graham’s stuff. A bunch of old papers, some journals, and legal junk. It was in this bright yellow box.” He makes a face and gestures with his hands, “Anyway, inside the box, I found a picture of you and my mom. She looked really happy. I asked her who you were.” He looks up at me solemnly, “She didn’t answer me at first. But then she told me that she hurt you really badly and that you didn’t want her in your life.”
Connor stops and glances over at me, a hint of wistfulness shining in his eyes. “I picked up the picture, and I kinda look like you. I figured you might be my dad. So, I sent away for a DNA kit.”
He gives me a curious look, “Was that true?”
“Was what true, Connor?”
“That my mom hurt you and that you don’t want her in your life anymore?” He tilts his head to the side as he waits for my answer.
“Yes, she hurt me. And because of that, we can never have a future together.”
His eyes widen at my words, and he solemnly nods, “It must have been pretty bad.”
“It was, but that’s all I can tell you. Your Mom would have to tell you the rest if she wants to.” I wipe my mouth and hands with a paper napkin and toss it down on my now-empty plate.
I look over at his plate, which only has crumbs. “You ready to go?”
“Sure,” he answers with another shrug. I hide a grin as I wonder if I ever shrugged as often as he does. I have a feeling I did.
After we’re in the SUV and I’m pulling away, he asks, “Where are we going now?”
I look at him across the car’s interior. “My apartment. We can hang out there until your mother arrives.”
“Okay,” is his answer. I reach down and turn on the radio to one of the local rock radio stations. I turn up the volume and watch Connor as he nods his head to the beat of the rock song.
When I drive into the parking garage, he looks around. He follows me into the elevator, and we ride up to the penthouse. The elevator delivers us to the hall outside my front door.
“Cool,” Is all that he says as I open the door to my apartment. When Connor walks in with his backpack, my eyes follow him. I see him stop and look around; the three-bedroom, two-bath apartment is spacious, with high ceilings. At one end of the living room are triple glass sliding doors that open onto an expansive balcony where you can watch the evening sunset. I have another magnificent view of the St. John’s River.
“Wow, your view here is almost as nice as the one in your office.”
I smile, “I agree. The view from my office is better. This one is just more panoramic.”
I watch as he throws down his backpack and then checks out all the rooms. I follow him. He finally slows down when he gets to the bedrooms. “This place is huge.”
A few minutes later, “I gotta take a leak,” and he heads to the main bathroom.
I smile as I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be around a preteen boy. That stops me in my tracks. He’s almost a teenager, and I’ve missed ten years of his life. Ten whole years.
The unjustness of it all clogs my throat. I want to yell in frustration and punch a hole in the wall. How could she keep something so important from me? Why didn’t Anna tell me?
Then I remember our last conversation. I told her not to contact me. That I never wanted to see or hear from her again. I said she was dead to me. And I meant every word. But still, a son? She should have told me she carried my son. I have to hide my smoldering emotions from Connor when I hear him make his way down the hall.
He suddenly spies a basketball in the spare bedroom. “You play hoops?” I hear him ask from the other room.
“Yeah, my brothers and I still play one-on-one, but there’s a hoop on the ground floor. Wanna shoot a few while we wait for your mom?”
When he doesn’t answer, I walk into the spare bedroom to discover him perched on the bed, absorbed in the wall-mounted family portrait featuring my parents, myself, and my two brothers.
“Hey, Connor, you okay?”
He turns toward me but doesn’t stand. His face has an unreadable look, but his eyes seem to bulge. “I have uncles?” I hear the wonder in his voice.
I sit down on the edge of the bed beside him, and I point to the picture, “That was my dad, your grandpa. He died before I met your mother. The lady beside him is your grandma, my mother. Her name is Bonnie. She will cry when she meets you.” He just smiles and blinks rapidly. “I’m the oldest, but this is Carter, my middle brother who’s engaged to a woman named Kat. They both work at the office you were at. Carter travels a lot, but he recently set up and trained our elite bodyguard division.”
I point again to the picture on the wall. “The other guy is my youngest brother, Chase. He’s married, and his wife’s name is Val. They have a little girl named Gabriella.”
I stop and smile at him, “So let’s see. You have a grandma, two uncles, two aunts, and a baby girl cousin.”
