Anna Adams - The Secret Father

He dragged the back of his hand over his mouth. He was tired of dreams shot with light like tracer fire from a weapon, tired of waking sweat-covered and panicked as if he’d run through enemy battle lines in his bare feet and still managed to get his friend killed.

Staring at Evan’s photo, aching to see the boy, to hear his voice, Zach ran his finger over the cowlick his son would never be able to tame unless he got himself a military haircut. For Evan’s sake, he wanted to trust Olivia Kendall.

Closing his eyes, he saw her—tall, breezing into his office on the strength of her own self-confidence, her wavy black hair sliding over her shoulders, gray eyes splintered with ice that melted only a little beneath occasional warm concern. She wouldn’t research or write any story that would hurt Evan.

It wasn’t so hard to believe he’d loved her. Inconceivable that he’d forgotten her if he’d cared enough for her to make a child.

Zach glanced at his watch. Why waste any more time? He reached for the phone to call Olivia and tell her he knew exactly what he wanted.

Once she knew where he stood, he’d warn his family they were about to meet his son. He didn’t want Helene or anyone else to find out about Evan from a newspaper or TV.

“AMNESIA?” James Kendall’s mirthless laugh nearly deafened Olivia through her cell phone’s receiver. “He was never good enough for you, and this lame amnesia excuse just proves my point.”

“Why would he lie, Dad?” Despite her own doubts, she tried to soothe her father’s. At the first sign of weakness in her, he’d try running Zach out of the country. She stayed calm for several reasons. One, she didn’t want him all over Zach. Two, he’d stuck by her through a pregnancy that had shamed him. And three, he loved Evan.

“He dumped you and he doesn’t have the guts to be a man. Why are you willing to let him think about it? Evan deserves a father who simply wants him for a son.”

“I’m not holding a grudge.” Not much of one, and she’d fight every step of the way to make things right for Evan. “He couldn’t help what happened.”

“Why let him jerk you around?”

“I insisted Zach think about the obligations I’m asking him to take on.”

“Did he argue with you?”

“No, but he was stunned, and I don’t want him to do the right thing out of some knee-jerk response. What good would Zach’s sense of duty do my son?”

“I didn’t have to decide whether I wanted to be his grandfather.”

She could have argued. He’d conveniently forgotten the day he’d suggested he could help her “not have” the baby. He’d made up for it too many times to count since. She twitched the curtain away from her window. Dusk hovered over Bardill’s Ridge. In the street below, Victorian lamps glowed orange-yellow.

“You had seven and a half months to get used to the idea of Evan. I’m willing to give Zach a few hours, and I’ll stay with Evan and him when they’re together at first.”

“Thank God you’ve still got some sense. Calvert should have considered his actions back then. When a twenty-six-year-old man knows he can’t even be honest about his job with a twenty-one-year-old woman, the honorable thing is to abstain.”

“You like to forget I was there, too, and you’re still annoyed I didn’t hold out for a wedding ring. You and I aren’t selfless.”

“More so than the man who left you holding the diaper bag.”

“If Zach decides to become part of this family, I expect you to be civil to him.”

“If you hold a single doubt about this man, I say we start the paperwork to sue him for support.”

“Great idea, Dad. Evan will never need a dime from Zach, but he’s gone without a father’s care for five years. A lawsuit should fix all his problems.” She dropped the curtain and opened the nightstand drawer to find a laminated pizza menu. “I don’t think Zach’s going to duck out. Why can’t you give him the benefit of the doubt?”

“You are, and that’s more than he deserves.” Her dad went quiet. She hoped he was trying to find some restraint. The family counselor they’d seen when Evan was a baby had taught him to give Olivia room to parent her own child, but her dad was always happiest when he’d worked up a full head of steam. “When are you supposed to see Calvert again?”

“His name is Zach, and I’ll let you know when he calls.”

“Are we supposed to twiddle our thumbs while he decides? I should be there with you. In fact, I’m on my way.”

Olivia laughed to remind her father he was over-reacting. Suddenly, the phone at her bedside jangled. She eyed it with foreboding. “I have to go, Dad. You stay put in Chicago. Is Evan all right?”

“Sound asleep, or I’d let you talk to him.”

He’d already admitted to spoiling her son with dinner and the richest cheesecake in Chicago at Evan’s favorite “grown-up” restaurant. From there, her father swore Evan had hauled him to a batting cage. He’d exhausted the little guy.

The other phone rang for the third time. “I’ll call you,” Olivia said again. “Kiss him for me.”

“Get back here and kiss him yourself, or let me bring him to you.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“I’ll arrange a healthy meal for Evan tomorrow night.”

“I’m glad.” Her father was a man who showed his love through service rather than affectionate words. “Bye.”

She switched off her cell phone and lifted the other receiver. “Olivia Kendall.” Putting this conversation on business terms was like suiting up in her best armor.

“It’s Zach Calvert. I want to come by in the morning.”

“To talk?” Who cared if she sounded eager? “You can come now.”

“I’ll be ready to travel in the morning, but tonight I have to tell my own family.”

Her pulse tripped over a few beats. He was saying yes. He wanted to know Evan.

“Yes” terrified her. For her son—a little for herself. She’d once loved this man, and he was coming back into her life. She remembered desire and trust that had turned on her like Cleopatra’s asp. She couldn’t afford to get confused about long-dead feelings.

“Maybe it would be better if you didn’t mention Evan to your daughter until you meet him.”

“What?” The one word suggested she’d over-stepped.

“Until you make up your mind, why disrupt Evan’s life or Lily’s?”

“You have nothing to do with my daughter, Olivia. I take care of my family.”

His harshness hurt her feelings. She tried not to snap back. His anger might come from problems he’d had with Helene over custody of Lily.

“Bottom line,” she said, pretending to ignore his quick temper, “I don’t want my son hurt.” She threaded her voice with sharp steel, just in case he considered her soft. “If he ever thinks you’re sorry…”

Silence met her half threat. Seeing his expression would have been nice.

“Is eight o’clock too early to leave tomorrow?” he asked.

“Fine.” She probably wouldn’t sleep. “I’ll arrange our flight.”

“Let me.”

“Face it. I have more pull.” Zach could be in charge next time.

SHARING A GLASS of iced tea with her mother-in-law, Greta, Beth Calvert recognized her son’s car down-shifting to start the climb up her hill. Over a pot of chili, the two women had begun planning a party to celebrate Greta and her husband Seth’s fifty-fifth anniversary.

They’d planned very little party and talked more about Seth’s single anniversary request—more time with his wife. He wanted her to retire from her job as director of The Mom’s Place as she neared seventy-six years of age.

Beth smiled. Greta seemed to feel her husband asked too much. Already pregnant with Ned, Zach’s father, when she was in premed, Greta had worked nearly all her life, and pretty much all the time she or Seth could remember. Seventy-six wasn’t too young to retire by any means, but around here country doctors worked a lot longer than that.