A Long Way From Eden

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A Long Way From Eden Page 11

by Jana Richards


  Despite all the surprises, Zane was touched that the kids wanted to pay respect to their female relatives by naming their child after them. Anna Margaret Emily. His thoughts flew to his own mother. At least baby Anna would know her parents and grandparents on both sides of her family.

  It was more than he could say for himself. What if Erin or the baby got sick, and God forbid, needed bone marrow or a kidney from a compatible donor? If none of the known relatives were a match, where would they turn? Erin's dramatic delivery put Zane's lack of knowledge of his own medical history into sharp focus. He needed to know who his father was.

  His mother was getting older and so was he. If she suddenly died, he might never discover the truth. He couldn't let that happen. He was forty years old, and he had a right to his identity.

  In two days his mother would come to Winnipeg from Harwood to look after Erin and meet her great-granddaughter. Zane was determined that while she was visiting she'd tell him the truth. He wouldn't take no for an answer.

  The phone rang, and Zane mentally shook himself. He still had a business to run.

  "Zane Martin." He did his best to focus all his attention on the call.

  "Hi Zane, it's Tom. I was wondering if I could talk to you this afternoon."

  "Sure. What about?"

  "I'd rather speak to you about that in person if you don't mind."

  The serious tone of Tom's voice sent a ripple of unease through Zane. "Okay, if you like. What time?"

  "I can be at your office about five, after work."

  "I'll see you then."

  Zane hung up the phone and stared at it for a few moments. He hoped that whatever Tom had to tell him was good news, but even if it wasn't he'd make sure his daughter and granddaughter were protected. Nobody would hurt the people he loved, not while he still drew breath.

  * * * *

  At five minutes after five Tom entered the Sloan Construction offices wearing faded jeans and carrying a beat up backpack. His serious expression matched his earlier tone on the telephone. Zane ushered the young man into his office and closed the door.

  "What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked after offering Tom a chair.

  Tom tapped his fingers nervously against the arm of the chair. Despite his obvious apprehension, he looked Zane clearly in the eye when he spoke. "I want to talk about Erin and the baby."

  "What about them?"

  "I love them," he said simply. "I want to ask Erin to marry me."

  Zane felt as if all the air had suddenly rushed out of his lungs. This was what he'd wanted from the beginning, but now that his wishes were coming true, he no longer felt as sure. He blindly reached for his chair and sat down. "Why the sudden turn around?"

  "It's not sudden," Tom said. "I've really gotten to know Erin the last few months. She's a remarkable person." For the first time since he stepped into Zane's office, he smiled. "Next to my mother, she's the strongest woman I know. She's the person I want to spend my life with."

  "You're not just saying this because of the baby?"

  Tom shook his head. "I want to be a full-time father. I want to be with my daughter as she grows up. But if I didn't feel the way I do about Erin, I couldn't marry her just to give Anna a family." He leaned forward in his chair, the expression of honesty in his eyes telling Zane even more than his words. "I really love her, Zane. I'll do everything I can to make her happy."

  After a moment Zane expelled his breath on a sigh and nodded. "When do you and Erin plan to get married?"

  "I haven't asked her yet. I wanted to talk to you first."

  Zane blinked at the boy. "Why?"

  "Because your blessing is important to Erin and your respect is important to me. I hope someday I can earn it."

  Zane rose from his chair and came around his desk, extending his hand to Tom. "You have my blessing. It's Erin you're going to have to convince. She may believe the only reason you want to marry her is to be close to Anna."

  "I'll convince her." The look of determination on Tom's face told him his stubborn daughter had met her match.

  "For what it's worth, you have my respect. There's no one else I'd rather have for a son-in-law."

  * * * *

  Erin unbuckled the baby from her car seat and carefully lifted her into her arms. Anna was still tiny, barely five pounds, but gaining weight at a steady pace and healthy in every other way. For that Zane was profoundly thankful.

  Zane unloaded Erin's suitcase from the trunk and opened the front door of the house.

  Erin smiled as she entered. "It's so good to be home, isn't it Sweet Pea?" The baby simply stared at her in mild inquiry.

  "Why don't you and the baby go upstairs and have a little rest and I'll start dinner. Grandma should be here around seven, and Tom will be here for supper as well."

  Erin nodded, looking as if she needed a nap. "Is Meg coming tonight?"

  "No, I called earlier and invited her, but she has to work. She said she'd come to see you and the baby tomorrow."

  "Okay. I'm going to nurse the baby and then try to have a nap. I hope Anna will sleep in her new crib."

  "Don't worry about it. If she doesn't settle, I'll bring her down here with me. You just get some sleep."

  Erin smiled. "Thanks Daddy. Have I told you lately that I love you?"

  Zane's voice felt gruff with emotion. "Love you too, kid. Now go. I'll check on the baby in a little while."

  He got a spaghetti sauce simmering on the back burner and had almost finished washing lettuce for a salad when he heard his granddaughter's high-pitched cries. He turned down the heat on the sauce and rushed up the stairs to the baby's room.

  Baby Anna quieted the moment he picked her up, somehow sensing that he was someone she could trust. Zane felt a rush of love for the tiny bundle in his arms. She was tiny, smaller than he remembered Erin being at this age, but then Erin hadn't been premature. He could almost fit Anna into the palm of one of his big hands.

  "Come on, sweetie. You and Grandpa are going downstairs to cook dinner." He put the baby in her little portable lounging chair, and after checking on Erin who was sound asleep in the next room, carried her downstairs and into the kitchen.

  He set Anna on the floor well away from the hot stove. He continued making the salad. As he washed lettuce and sliced cucumbers and green onions he spoke to the child.

  "Grandma Emily is going to be so excited to see you. She's coming to look after you for a few days." He wondered how he'd broach the subject of his father this time. He and his mother had argued about this many times in the past, never coming to any understanding. He had to make very clear this time his intention to discover his paternity.

  The front door bell rang. Zane glanced at the clock on the microwave. Just past four o'clock, too early for either his mother or Tom to be making an appearance. He wiped his hands and, picking up the baby's chair, went to answer the door. Meg stood on the other side with several bags and boxes in her hands.

  "Hi! Does this mean you'll be joining us for dinner after all?"

  "Sadly no. We're shorthanded at the restaurant tonight so I'll be working until about nine." She put her things on the floor and took the baby out of her chair. "But I just couldn't go a whole day without seeing this little girl."

  Meg held Anna close and crooned lovingly to her. The picture they made together tugged at something inside his heart. She could easily be mistaken for Anna's mother. Meg was a young woman and an obviously loving one. It would be a shame if she never had another child.

  "I brought some pies I made this morning," she said, motioning to the things on the floor. "And Erin's favorite, garlic bread." She laughed, the sound happy and relaxed. "I hope it doesn't upset the baby."

  "Did you bring lemon meringue?"

  "Absolutely."

  He grinned at her. "Good girl."

  Zane picked up the boxes from the floor and took them into the kitchen. Meg followed with the baby. "Where's Erin?" she asked.

  "She's sleeping. She loo
ked pretty wiped so I took over the baby for a while. I just hope Anna doesn't get hungry or need to be changed before Erin wakes up."

  Meg laughed again. "Well, I can't do anything about feeding her, but I can change her diaper before I go."

  "Maybe you can show me how it's done. It's been a long time since I changed a baby. Diapers are pretty high tech these days."

  She looked at him in surprise. "You changed diapers?"

  "Yeah, I changed a lot of diapers. And mixed formula and walked the floor at three in the morning." He smiled at Meg's look of astonishment. "What's the matter? Don't I look like the diaper changing type?"

  "I wouldn't have thought so," she said with a smile, "but you keep surprising me."

  For a moment he couldn't think of a thing to say. He tried to come up with something flippant and nonchalant, but instead decided to go with honesty. "My late wife wasn't very...maternal. When I came home from work she would dump Erin in my arms and she'd be my responsibility till I left for work the next morning.

  "I'm not complaining," he said quickly when Meg shook her head. "I loved looking after Erin when she was little. But I have to admit I was glad when she finally started sleeping through the night."

  Meg didn't smile at his weak attempt at levity. "That must be why Erin says she doesn't remember her mother at all. She was so lucky to have a daddy like you. She still is."

  For a few moments neither of them said anything. But the tenderness he saw in Meg's dark eyes filled his heart to overflowing.

  Eventually she averted her gaze and kissed the baby's downy head. "Okay, sweetheart. Let's take you upstairs and get you into a nice dry diaper."

  "Mind if I tag along? I could use the refresher course."

  She smiled. "Come on, Grandpa. We'll do it together."

  * * * *

  "Can I get you more coffee, Zane?"

  "No thanks, Ma. I'm good." Zane tapped his fingers restlessly on the table. His mother had been staying with them for two days and he still hadn't brought up the subject of his father. It never seemed to be the right time. A steady stream of visitors wanting to see the baby meant he hadn't had three minutes alone with his mother the last few days.

  Aside from that, demanding his mother give him the identity of his father proved even harder for him to do than he had anticipated. Emily was a good person and a terrific mother. She probably thought she had valid reasons for keeping the truth from him. Doubt began to creep into his thoughts. Did he really have the right to know? Did he really want to know? The reason his mother had never spoken of his father might have resulted from the way he'd been conceived. Had she been raped? The thought twisted his gut and made his heart ache for her.

  He thought of his baby granddaughter and knew what he had to do. She deserved to know where she came from. Now was as good a time as any. Tom and Erin had gone upstairs with the baby and the house was quiet.

  He took a deep breath. "Why don't you come with me to my office, Ma. I need to talk to you."

  Emily's smile faltered. "That sounds ominous."

  "Not ominous. Just necessary." He held out his hand to her. "Please Ma."

  "Okay." She took a deep breath and reached for his outstretched hand, looking as if she'd rather go anywhere but into his office.

  They walked into the room and Zane closed the door behind them. "I've got some sherry. Would you like a glass?"

  "Sure," Emily said. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

  Zane poured his mother's sherry and two fingers of scotch for himself. He handed her the glass and then wheeled his leather office chair around the desk and positioned it across from her chair. He lifted his glass and took a drink.

  "I've been thinking a lot lately about my father." He held up his hand when she would have interrupted him. "I don't want to hurt you, Ma. That's the last thing in the world I want to do. But I need to know who my father is. And it's not just for me. Erin and Anna deserve to know, if for no other reason than to find out if there are any medical issues we should be concerned with."

  Emily slumped against her chair, and stared at her clenched hands. "I've been thinking a lot about your father lately as well." She shook her head. "This isn't easy for me."

  "Ma please. What if something happened to you? I'd never know who he was."

  "Yes, of course. I know you're right, but it's just so difficult for me to talk about." She looked into his face for a moment, before quickly lowering her eyes. "I'm still ashamed by what I did."

  Zane took her hand. "Did he... Did he hurt you?"

  She lifted her head and stared at him blankly for a moment, until understanding dawned. Her hand fluttered to her throat. "You think he forced me? No, no, it was never anything like that. Your father is an honorable man."

  "Then why couldn't you bring yourself to tell me all these years?"

  She closed her eyes in misery. "Because while he was an honorable man, he was also a married man. Your father is my sister's husband."

  Chapter Nine

  Of all the things Zane imagined his mother might tell him about his father, he'd never thought it would include the fact that he was also his uncle. He leaned back against the leather headrest of his chair and searched his memory for some remembrance of his uncle and came up empty. He'd never met the man.

  "Your sister Frances? The one who lives in Vancouver?"

  "She's the only sister I've got. She's six years older than me. Her husband's name was--is--Clayton McPhillips."

  "What happened between you and Clayton, Ma?" It seemed odd to actually say his father's name after all the years of wondering.

  She took a deep breath and began. "When I was eighteen I left Harwood for Winnipeg to take a hairdressing course. I always knew that's what I wanted to do. Clayton was ten years older than me and at this time he and Frances had been married six or seven years."

  She paused and took a sip of her sherry. "Clayton and Frances lived in Harwood as well. He worked as a grain buyer for one of the large grain companies. His job took him into Winnipeg every couple of weeks. As a favor to my parents, he would come by the little apartment I shared with my girlfriend and check up on me.

  "I guess my mother was afraid I'd be up to no good in the big, bad city," she said with a rueful smile. "I began to look forward to his visits. He took me to different restaurants, and I took him to some of the places that I'd discovered, like the library and the art gallery. We found we had so much in common. We liked a lot of the same things, thought about life the same way. For the first time in my life I felt I could really talk to someone who understood me. Very soon we found that we were falling in love."

  Emily smiled in remembrance, but Zane could see the memories were painful for her. "Clayton began coming to the city more often on the pretense of having to work. He told me that he didn't love Frances and that their marriage had been unsuccessful almost from the beginning. We began to stay together at his hotel, or in my apartment when my roommate was away. We had to be so secretive because my roommate was also from Harwood. If word got out that Clayton and I were seeing each other..."

  Zane got the picture. A married man having an affair with his wife's younger sister would cause quite a scandal in a small town like Harwood even today. Forty years ago it would have been devastating to the whole family.

  "And then I found out that I was pregnant. Clayton was going to leave Frances and marry me. We were going to move somewhere far away and start over where no one knew us. I felt badly for my sister, but I loved Clayton so much and I wanted to be with him. I had you to think of as well. You needed a father." Her voice caught on a sob, and for a few moments she couldn't go on.

  "What happened to change your plans?" Zane asked gently after a few moments.

  Emily visibly pulled herself together and continued. "Just before Clayton was going to ask Frances for a divorce, she announced that she was pregnant. She was due to have her baby only a couple of months after I was due with you.

  "I was devastated. Clayton had tol
d me he hadn't had relations with Frances in months and I believed him. I thought he loved me and that he was true to me. But here was proof of his infidelity staring me in the face."

  She laughed, but the sound was not happy. "Ironic that the other woman should complain about her lover cheating on her with his wife, isn't it? But that's how I felt. He claimed he didn't love Frances and yet he had slept with her, even after professing to love me. How could I ever trust him again?"

  "What did he say to you?"

  "He claimed it happened only the one time and that Frances initiated it. He said he still loved me and wanted to marry me, but I refused. I was too hurt, and too full of pride.

  "I finished my hairdressing course and got a job in a shop in the city until you were born. I never planned to go to Harwood again, but fate has a way of intervening. My mother had a stroke and my Dad couldn't look after her himself. I moved back in with them, and set up a shop in town. I thought it would be temporary, but it didn't turn out that way."

  "And Clayton?"

  "Shortly after I moved back to Harwood, he and Frances and their son, Nathan, moved to Vancouver. It was for the best. We couldn't continue to live in the same small town because it was impossible to avoid one another. The tension was unbearable and people were beginning to wonder what was going on. Frances and I had never been close, but now we could barely be civil to one another. I'm sure she knew about Clayton and me, or at least suspected, though she never said. The only time she ever came back to Harwood was for our parents' funerals."

  Zane sat back in his chair, his memory traveling back in time to his grandfather's funeral. He'd been sixteen and had been hit hard by the old man's death. Despite his advanced age, his grandfather had tried to fill the role of father figure as best he could, and Zane had loved him. He didn't remember much about the day of the funeral, except for the looks of open hostility given to him by the tall, thin woman in black who'd been briefly introduced to him by his mother as his Aunt Frances from Vancouver. At the time he hadn't understood why she seemed to hate him so much.

 

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