The Doctor's Secret Son

by Deb Kastner

  Jo snorted and planted her hands on her hips. “From the children, Frank. You know better than that. Are you ready, Santa?” she asked, turning to Zach.

  Zach knew that to be his cue. With another hearty laugh, he stepped up on a crudely built wooden platform and sat down on the large black leather chair designated as his throne. He grinned in anticipation as the teenage boy and girl dressed up as elves herded the children into a semblance of a line. In the enormous black sack beside him, he had all kinds of goodies to share with the kids, each marked for a boy or a girl by age. It was, of course, the children’s favorite part of the evening.

  A couple of little towheaded boys crawled into his lap—Drew Spencer’s sons, Matty and Jamey. He chuckled in a low tone as Drew tried to coax them to stop squirming long enough for him to take a picture.

  “What do you boys want for Christmas?” Zach asked merrily, wrapping an arm around each of them to keep them from wiggling off of his lap.

  “A toy fire truck, and a baseball, and a bat, and—” Matty started.

  “And a piano, and some coloring books and some crayons and a big stuffed horsey,” Jamey finished for his twin.

  Matty’s face suddenly fell and his bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

  “What’s wrong, little dude?” Zach queried gently.

  “Daddy said we weren’t supposed to ask for a bunch of stuff. He said we’re supposed to thank Jesus for what we have and maybe even give some of our stuff away to kids who can’t get any presents.”

  “Well, your daddy is a very smart man,” Zach said, winking at Drew. “But there’s something in my sack for each of you. Here you go,” he said, giving each of the delighted twins a present.

  Still squealing, they dashed off, ripping into the paper as they ran, anxious to see what Santa had given them.

  Meanwhile, the next child had shuffled up to him. Turning his attention to the boy, Zach found he was staring into the cautious brown eyes of the lad he’d seen sitting with Delia earlier.

  Her son.

  “Hello there, young man,” Zach greeted, patting his knee. “And what’s your name?” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Delia was watching the scene, but without looking at her directly, he couldn’t tell how she felt about the fact that he was meeting her son for the first time.

  “Riley,” the boy answered. He stepped forward hesitantly and propped himself unsteadily on the end of one of Zach’s knees.

  “So, Riley, what can Santa bring you for Christmas this year?”

  The boy, tilting his head, met Zach’s gaze skeptically. Zach had the funniest feeling he’d seen Riley before, even though of course he couldn’t have. Maybe it was just that he looked like his mother. His jet-black hair, bow-shaped lips and the high definition of his cheekbones were smaller replicas of Delia’s, an observation that produced the funniest fluttering effect on Zach’s heart.

  “A basketball,” Riley mumbled.

  “Yeah? You play?” Zach asked enthusiastically, shaking off the sense of uneasiness he was feeling.

  “I used to play in a league in Baltimore. My mom says that once we can afford it, she’s going to put up a hoop in the driveway at my grandma’s house. That’s where we live now.”

  This wasn’t news to Zach. He’d found out where Delia was living as soon as he’d discovered she was in town.

  “Well, it isn’t Baltimore, but we do have a team here in Serendipity,” Zach explained.

  “Yeah?” Riley’s uncannily familiar brown eyes lit up with interest.

  “Sure. Tell your mom that she should contact Coach Bowden, and he’ll get you signed up for the team.”

  “Cool.” The boy hesitated and then smiled. “It’ll be easy to remember that. Bowden is my middle name.”

  For a moment, the world stopped spinning on its axis. Shock played havoc with time, and it felt like forever before Zach regained the tiniest semblance of a handle on his spiraling existence.

  Riley was his son.

  Zach’s mind careened around nearly as fast as his stomach, which felt like he’d been sucker punched.

  In a very real way, he had been. A knife in his gut might have been less painful than the tortuous agony he was now experiencing. His breath had left his lungs in a rush and wouldn’t return.

  Shock. Anger. Elation. Joy.

  Riley was his son.

  No wonder he’d felt as if he’d seen Riley before, and it wasn’t because the boy shared some features with his mother.

  But only now did Zach understand what his mind had, up until this moment, kept just beyond his reach. The reason Riley looked familiar was because of his eyes, his chin, even the texture and thickness of his hair.

  It was like looking into a mirror and staring at his own reflection of when he was nine years old, except that his hair had been brown instead of Riley’s black locks.

  When he’d first seen the boy, it hadn’t even occurred to Zach to wonder how old Riley was. He had just assumed the boy was another man’s child.

  And why wouldn’t he?

  Delia wouldn’t have kept a secret like that from him. She wouldn’t have kept him from knowing his own son.

  But she had.

  She had.

  How could she have done this to him?

  He was still dazed and in shock as he handed Riley a gift from his sack. The boy took off from the makeshift wooden platform and plunged into the crowd. Zach barely noticed as a two-year-old little girl with her thumb in her mouth promptly crawled into his lap.

  As his heart and his lungs slowly started functioning again, a depth of anger and resentment unlike anything he’d ever before experienced formed into a tight ball in his gut and began billowing up into his head.

  Now he understood what people meant when they said they were seeing red. His blood pressure must have skyrocketed, for his eyesight truly did become a hazy crimson for a moment as he struggled to calm himself.

  He choked back the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. This was the worst possible time and place for him to make such a monumental discovery. How could Delia have done this to him—or had she had just that in mind when she’d brought Riley with her tonight? Maybe she hadn’t intended for him to put all the pieces together while he was playing Santa. But, surely, she would realize he’d figure it out sometime during the party, when he’d be surrounded by people and be unable to get a grasp on the way she’d just turned his life inside out and upside down.

  When had she become so conniving—even cruel?

  But no matter what he was feeling, no matter how badly he wanted to scrap the whole Santa thing to find Delia and demand an explanation, he could not—would not. The children in line were laughing and joyful. They didn’t realize that their Santa had just had the floor crumble out from underneath him.

  He wasn’t letting on because he wasn’t about to disappoint those kids. It took every bit of his self-control and a frantic silent prayer to God for him to be able to turn his attention back to the children. But with effort, he managed—comforted only by the knowledge that as soon as he could slip away and get out of the Santa suit, he would be hunting Delia down to demand an explanation from her.

  Not that he expected much from that conversation. He would never, ever be able to forgive her for what she had done to him. But one thing was for certain, he was going to make up for lost time with the boy he’d not even known existed.

  His son.

  Chapter Six

  Delia knew the exact moment when Zach had recognized the truth—that Riley was his son—and it couldn’t have come at a worse time for him. Or for her.

  The whole night hadn’t turned out even remotely as she had planned. Circumstances were whirling so far out of control now that she had no idea how she could
possibly ever make things right again.

  Poor Zach.

  Poor her—because she knew without a doubt that Zach would be coming after her. And when he found her, he would be beyond furious. And rightly so.

  The last thing on earth she would have expected would be for Zach to play Santa Claus at the Christmas party. As a teenager he had hated all things Christmas and the dreaded goodwill that went along with it. For him to have made such a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn as an adult was almost beyond Delia’s comprehension.

  Zach playing the role of Santa completely ruined the plans she had made. She’d intended to take him aside sometime during the party and speak to him alone. But, as Santa, he wasn’t going to get a moment alone, and even if he did, she could hardly drag Santa Claus off for a one-on-one chat.

  As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d misguidedly gone to a lot of effort to get Riley to even consider seeing Santa in the first place. At the time it had seemed the right thing to do.

  Because she was a single parent, she felt there were many ways that Riley had had to grow up too fast. She’d fought to preserve whatever precious time he had left of childhood, and to her, at least, that’s what Santa Claus represented.

  If, upon learning the true identity of the jolly old elf, she’d suddenly and inexplicably changed her mind and encouraged Riley to avoid the man, her son would have been suspicious, at the very least. He was a bright boy—he’d know something was wrong with this picture. It might even have ruined his night, when all the other boys his age got gifts from Santa and he was left out.

  But the reality of seeing Riley and Zach together for the first time wasn’t anything like she’d expected or imagined. For the first few moments, it was just a matter of trying to breathe around the ache in her heart at seeing Riley on his father’s knee. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes, but she was too fazed by the sight of her boy with his dad to even bother to brush them away.

  And then Riley had said something that had changed Zach’s gaze from amazed, to shocked, to angry, all in a matter of seconds. Whatever it was that had been spoken had tipped Zach off to the truth.

  Zach’s gaze had searched hers out, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he saw the truth in her eyes and in the tears sliding unheeded down her cheeks.

  It was too late now to change the way things were going down. She might have made some poor choices in her life, but coming here tonight with the anticipation of bringing the whole truth out in the middle of a public venue had, in all likelihood, been the worst one of all. That she had to face him and attempt to put this catastrophe right was an unavoidable fact. But not in public.

  She had to leave the party. Now.

  “Riley,” she said as he darted past her with one of his new friends. “We need to get going.”

  Riley spun on his heels. “What? No, Mom. Not yet! We just got here.”

  Delia would have laughed if it wasn’t such a dire situation. They’d been there for a couple of hours at least. But Delia knew what her son meant, and her heart clenched. Riley was making new friends, which was exactly what she’d hoped would happen. The party wouldn’t be over for at least another hour—more time for him to play with and bond with the boys.

  It was unfair of her to ask him to leave early. But what else could she do?

  “Delia.” Zach’s low, rich drawl, almost a growl, came from behind her and caught her unaware. Startled, she gasped for breath and spun around to face him.

  Zach had changed out of his Santa suit and was now wearing his trademark blue jeans and white T-shirt. His dark brows furrowed into a straight line and dropped low over his eyes as angry gaze burned into her.

  “Zach,” she replied, instantly on the defense. Her heart was racing. He had every right to be angry, but his thundering expression still took her off guard.

  Riley stepped in front of his mother, putting himself between her and Zach. Obviously he was aware of the palpable tension between the two adults, and he had always been protective of Delia, maybe extra cautious because it had always been just the two of them against the world.

  In Riley’s eyes, Zach was a stranger.

  Possibly a threat.

  “It’s okay, Riley. I’ve decided we don’t have to leave right this second. Go ahead and play with your friends.”

  “We can go now if you want to,” Riley protested. “I don’t care.”

  “No, really,” Delia insisted. “Go on. Have fun.”

  His eyes on Zach, Riley hesitated for another moment, but then one of the boys called his name and he was off in a flash.

  “You were going somewhere?” Zach asked, his tone hovering somewhere between disapproval and disbelief.

  “No, not really. Just back to my parents’ place. It’s been a long day,” she added, and then wondered why she was trying to explain herself. There was nothing she could say that would bring Zach’s temper down from boiling point.

  “Without speaking to me.” Zach moved closer, invading her space and hovering over her like a dark thunder cloud.

  Delia shrugged. She was caught in a web of her own making and she knew it.

  So did Zach.

  He took her elbow and none too sympathetically led her out the front door and into the parking lot, completely ignoring the curious looks their neighbors flashed them. The temperature was below freezing and the wind only made it worse, but Zach didn’t seem to notice. His glower didn’t let up as much as a fraction. He’d snatched his coat up on the way out, but he hadn’t even bothered to put it on, tucking it under his arm instead.

  Unconsciously, she shivered, as much from the confrontation ahead as from the icy temperature.

  “You’re cold.” It was a statement of fact made without the least hint of compassion, yet his touch was gentle as he wrapped his coat around her shoulders.

  A rush of warmth shot through her, causing her to shiver in a new way. His jacket was thick and soft and buffeted her against the wind, but it was the inherent tenderness in Zach’s action that really warmed her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded as soon as they were well away from the door and any possibility of being overheard. “Riley doesn’t know, does he?” Zach asked bitterly.

  “No. I’m sorry.” She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, so she dropped her gaze.

  “You’re sorry?” he roared, stepping forward and hovering over her, invading her personal space. “What does that even mean?”

  Delia flinched but she didn’t back away. She deserved his censure. She decided right then and there that she was going to let him have his say, even if it meant letting him shout at her. She’d probably have done the same thing if their situations had been reversed.

  “I had to protect Riley,” she explained, keeping her own voice soft and level.

  “From what? His father?” Zach paced like a caged tiger, jamming both of his hands into his hair and raking his fingers across his scalp as he blew out a deep breath. “How could you not have told me, Delia?”

  Delia could deal with Zach’s anger, but now the tone of his voice had crept from infuriated to wounded, and that she could not bear. Tears burned in her eyes as she searched for the right words, something that would explain her past decisions while at the same time easing Zach’s anguish.

  It didn’t take her long to realize there were no words. There were no excuses. The only thing she could do right now was offer her deep, heartfelt apology to a firebrand teenager who’d grown into a responsible adult.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  Zach glared at her. “Not good enough.”

  “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Really?”

  Delia shrugged. She didn’t know what he wanted—or at least, she didn’t know where to be
gin to tell him what he wanted to know.

  “Answer me one question.”

  “Okay.” Her defenses went on red alert.

  “Did you know you were pregnant the day you left town?”

  “No.” She could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, and the pulse in the corner of his jaw was pounding rhythmically. She could see he was fighting to rein in his temper.

  He shook his head and scoffed. “Unbelievable. You’re still lying to me.”

  His statement hit her like a slap in the face. “No, Zach. It’s the truth.”

  “Well, excuse me if I don’t believe you.” He scoffed again, then whirled around and stomped off toward his truck.

  She’d certainly buried the hatchet between them—right in his back.

  Chapter Seven

  Zach yawned loudly as he laced his gym shoes in preparation for his coaching duties at the community center. It was winter break, but the kids liked to meet and play anyway; and he didn’t have anything else to do with his Saturday mornings, so he usually joined them.

  This morning, however, his spirit was lagging. The last thing he felt like doing was revisiting the scene from the night before, where he’d had the shock of his life in finding out he had a son—not to mention where he’d furiously confronted Delia with the issue.

  Even though he knew he had every right to be angry, he wasn’t exactly proud of his behavior, but his feelings were still too raw to try to figure out what to do about the situation.

  If he had his way, he’d crawl back into bed, pull the covers over his head and pretend none of this had happened—except how could he?

  He had a son. A son!

  That was enough to stagger any man. But he also had other people’s children waiting on him, a large gathering of young boys waiting to play basketball. Despite how he felt, he couldn’t let them down.

  He’d spent a restless night trying to put his thoughts and feelings into perspective. He’d prayed and prayed but had acquired no real peace in his heart about anything.