by Beverly Long
She picked up her phone. Her mom answered on the third ring. “Hi, honey. How are you?”
“I’m okay,” she said. How many times was she going to say that over the next few weeks and not mean it? “Are you and Dad busy?”
“No. Just watching television.”
“Can I come over?”
“Of course. Josh, too?”
“No, just me.” Josh might never want to get into a car with her again. “See you in ten.”
When her mother opened the door and frowned, Tilda realized that she hadn’t been a hundred percent successful in erasing the signs of her crying jag.
“What’s happened?” her mother asked.
Tilda didn’t answer. She simply walked in, took a seat on the couch, picked up the remote to turn down the television and looked at her parents. “I have something to tell you.”
“You’re scaring us,” her mom said.
“I don’t mean to.” Her parents had been absolutely wonderful. Sure, there had been some initial shock when she’d told them she was pregnant, as well as some irritation when she’d refused to tell them who the father was. But they’d vowed to be there for her no matter what. And when she’d been confident that adoption was the answer, they’d been nothing but supportive. But as the pregnancy had progressed and she’d fallen more and more in love with the baby she carried, they’d also promised to help her in any way they could if she decided to keep the child.
Then she’d thrown them for another loop when she’d quickly married Dorian after Josh’s birth. She’d never told them that Dorian was the baby’s father, but by not denying it outright, she’d let them think that was possibly the truth.
Over the years, they’d been her constant rock.
And she was about to hit them with a sledgehammer.
“Thirteen years ago, when I got pregnant with Josh, I hid the fact that Blaine Colton was his father.”
There. It was out.
“Blaine Colton,” her mom repeated, no doubt trying to remember the young man who’d been around those few months of her senior year.
Her dad said nothing. He knew the power of the Coltons in Roaring Springs. Was likely already thinking of the problems this news might unleash.
“Blaine recently returned from the army,” she said. “We told Josh the truth tonight.” There was no need for them to know the gritty details of how they’d gotten to that conversation.
“How did he take it?” her mom asked.
“He was surprised, of course. But he and Blaine are out having a quick dinner, starting to get to know one another.”
“You knew it was Blaine Colton’s baby?” her dad asked.
“I did.”
“But never told him?” he continued.
“That’s right.”
Her dad considered her. “Then, I’m guessing you had a pretty good reason.”
The tears that she’d managed to get in front of threatened again. As always, her parents were in her corner. “I did,” she sniffled. “At least, I thought I did.” She wasn’t going to give details. Her parents, along with Russ and Mara Colton, were Josh’s grandparents. If she told her parents the full truth, they would be very angry with Russ Colton and likely not be able to hide that fact from others. Again, it would only be Josh who would suffer if he had to choose between the grandparents he’d always known and the very rich and powerful Coltons.
“What do you need from us?” her mom asked, her tone kind.
“Nothing. I just needed you to hear it from me. To be prepared. There’s going to be talk.”
“I imagine so,” her mom said. “Roaring Springs can be a bit of a gossip mill at times. But here’s what I know for sure. You’ve been a great mom, honey. You’ve raised an amazing son. No one can say different.”
Would it be enough? For Blaine? For Josh? “Thank you,” she whispered. Then she got up, hugged each of them and walked out the door. She wanted to be home when her son got there.
* * *
Blaine took Josh to a local sports bar and grill, thinking the casual atmosphere might be helpful. The Rockies were playing, and the two of them settled in a booth to watch the baseball game.
“Your mom says that you play second base. You like it?”
“I guess.”
“You must have a pretty good arm. Got to get those double plays off fast, right?”
Josh stared at him. “This is weird,” he said finally.
“Yeah, Josh,” he admitted. “It is. But it’s going to get easier. The more that you and I get to know each other, the easier it’s going to get.”
“Mom said you enlisted in the army. Did you ever shoot anyone?”
He had. Green Berets were called upon to complete some of the most dangerous assignments. And he’d done it very well.
And would have had none of it if he’d known the truth all those years ago. Tilda’s lie had allowed him to pursue a career that he’d excelled at. But that didn’t mean that he was happy that he’d been in the dark. “I did what was necessary,” he said. “But if I’d have known about you,” he said, “I would have come home much sooner. Would have been part of your life.”
“I guess I’m glad that my real dad isn’t dead,” Josh said.
“I... I’m glad that you loved Dorian. I’m glad that he was a good father to you. I don’t ever want you to feel weird about the fact that you loved him.”
Josh swallowed so hard that Blaine could clearly see the movement. Neither of them said anything else until the pizza was delivered. When it arrived, Josh dug in. Blaine picked up a slice. His first meal with his son. He felt as if he should memorialize it in some way, maybe stand up and make an announcement. He glanced around, realizing that the people at the other tables were oblivious to the importance of the moment.
But word was going to get out. How long it took for the news to reach his parents would represent the quality of the Roaring Springs grapevine.
He would go see Russ and Mara tonight, once he dropped off Josh. After moving into staff housing, he’d been successfully able to limit his interactions with both of his parents. But it was time to talk to his dad. To offer up a sincere thank-you for whatever favors he’d had to call in to get someone to take another look at Blaine’s discharge status. And then he’d tell them about Josh.
They chatted during dinner, mostly about the baseball game, but at the end of it, he felt okay about it. For a first time, it had gone pretty smoothly. He paid the bill and then drove Josh back home. He pulled up in front of Tilda’s house at 7:57 p.m.
“Are you coming in?” Josh asked.
“I don’t think so,” Blaine said. Several times during dinner he’d thought of Tilda, how she’d looked standing in her doorway, and it had pulled at his gut. He’d had to remind himself that everyone, Josh included, was suffering. “Tell your mom that I’ll call her tomorrow.” They were going to need to work out a schedule for him to see Josh.
“Okay.” Josh opened his door. “Uh...thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.”
His son made no move to get out. His young face, illuminated by the streetlights, was tight with concern.
“Is there a question I can answer for you?” Blaine asked softly.
“Not exactly a question. I guess I just don’t know what to call you,” he said. “Dad feels weird.”
Blaine nodded contemplatively, not letting the boy know how hard it was to hear those words. It should not be weird in any way for his son to call him Dad. That was Tilda’s doing. “This is all pretty new,” he agreed. “Why don’t you just call me Blaine for now.”
Josh nodded, looking relieved. “I think that would be good.”
Blaine smiled. “This is going to get easier, Josh. I promise.”
“Right. I’ve got to go.” Josh got out and practically ran into the house.
Blaine waited until he was inside and then pulled away from the curb, thinking once again about Tilda. Would she quiz Josh about what he and Blaine had talked about? Would she try to turn his son away from him?
He didn’t think so. Was confident that Tilda wasn’t that type.
Then he gave himself a mental head slap. If anyone had asked him, he’d have been confident in saying that the girl he’d once adored would never hide the fact that he had a son. Look how wrong he’d been about that.
He drove to Colton Manor and parked near the front door. As family, he should feel comfortable just walking in. But he’d been gone a long time, and he felt better about ringing the doorbell. He waited. Finally, the door opened. It was his father.
“Blaine?”
“Hi, Dad. Can I come in?”
His father stepped back, motioning him in. “We weren’t expecting you.”
“I know. I just need a few minutes. Is Mom here?”
“I imagine she’s reading upstairs. I’ll go get her.”
“I’m right here.” Mara stood off to his right. In a nightgown and robe. Even in that, she managed to look elegant.
She led them to one of the many sitting areas in the main living space. Blaine wasn’t familiar enough with the house to know exactly what they used this room for, but it didn’t appear that the furniture had ever been sat on. It still looked showroom-perfect. He sat on a chestnut-colored leather couch. His mom took a chair on his right, his dad took one on his left.
He focused on Russ first. “I want to thank you for helping me with my discharge status. I appreciate it.” Short, succinct. Earlier tonight, he’d appreciated it when Tilda’s explanation had been the same. Maybe his dad would react similarly. And really, what else was there to say?
“Coltons do not get dishonorably discharged,” his dad said.
Of course not. Blaine had known from the beginning that his father’s help had been more about protecting the family name than about genuine concern for Blaine. At one time, that might have made him angry. But his years in the service had given him a broader perspective on many things. And the truth of it was that, regardless of the motive, his dad’s help had pushed the process forward faster than he could have reasonably hoped for.
Blaine leaned forward. “I need to talk to the both of you about something else. Something that I’ve recently learned.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure if you remember Tilda Deeds. She and I dated at the end of my senior year.”
A look passed between his parents. It was brief and indecipherable but definitely there. And it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “What?” he asked.
Neither of them said anything. Fine. Whatever. He was never going to really understand his parents. “Anyway, Tilda has a thirteen-year-old son. Joshua. She calls him Josh. He’s...he’s my son.”
“What?” his father barked.
“Josh is my son. I didn’t know about it until yesterday. Tonight, Tilda and I told Josh.”
“How do you know that she... Tilda...is telling you the truth?” This from his mom. “There are women who would find it very convenient to have a Colton child. Have you had a blood test?”
He didn’t need a blood test. He could look at Josh and tell. “I think Tilda would have preferred it if I hadn’t guessed the truth,” he admitted. “She didn’t tell me to lure me into any trap or to get financial security for her child.”
“You should get medical proof,” his father said.
“Maybe we will,” Blaine hedged. “But for now, work off the assumption that I’m right. Josh Stoll is your grandchild.”
The words seemed to echo in the quiet room. Finally, Mara leaned forward in her chair. “I want to meet him.”
“Of course. But in due time. This has been a big shock to him.” Blaine turned to his father who was being uncharacteristically quiet. “Dad?”
“I guess it would be appropriate to offer congratulations. It’s not every day that a man finds out he has a son.”
“Or a grandson.”
“That’s true,” Russ said contemplatively.
Blaine stood up. “I wanted you both to hear it from me. I’m sure word will get around town quickly enough.” He could see his mom’s jaw tighten. Gossip about the family always made her uncomfortable. Unless, of course, there was a way to spin it into more business.
“Good night,” Blaine said.
He walked out the door, feeling very, very weary.
Chapter 6
Tilda slept fitfully and then slept through her alarm. She was trying to brush her hair and eat a piece of toast when her cell phone rang. Since she did not recognize the number, she considered letting it go to voice mail but ended up answering it, thinking it might be a parent of a student.
“Hello.”
“Tilda?”
“Yes.”
“This is Mara Colton.”
Tilda put down her toast and her brush. She steadied herself with one hand on the bathroom vanity. “Yes.”
“I’d like to meet my grandson.”
Well, that answered the question of how long it was going to take for word to spread. “I...” She stopped to take a breath. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting your call.”
“On Saturday. I want him to come to the house for lunch.”
She wanted to say Hell no. But knew she had no right to do that. But she didn’t trust the Coltons. “Not alone,” she said. “I need to be with him.”
“That’s fine,” Mara replied. “I’ll expect you both at one.”
The woman hung up. And Tilda picked up her toast and tossed it into the bathroom garbage. There was no way she could eat now.
She wouldn’t tell Josh. Not right now. She’d find a better time to break the news.
She walked out of the bathroom. “Are you ready?” she asked. When it was cold, she dropped Josh off at his school in the mornings before going on to the high school.
“I’m walking today.”
He was avoiding her. But it was slowly getting warmer and safe enough. There was no reason to say no. She’d been hoping that this morning things would be better. He’d returned from his dinner with Blaine and mumbled something about homework and retreated to his room. When she’d knocked on his door before she went to bed, he hadn’t answered. As was her custom, she’d opened the door. His light was off and he was asleep. Or at least pretending to be asleep.
“Okay,” she said. “Don’t say I didn’t offer,” she added lightly.
He didn’t respond. Just grabbed his backpack and walked out the door.
It wasn’t as if he’d never been mad at her before. One couldn’t parent for thirteen years and not have a few slammed doors and some angry shouting. But those had been kid tantrums—little bouts of adolescent independence rearing up. His demeanor now was far different.
And it scared her.
What if they couldn’t ever get back to the loving and trusting relationship they’d had? The thought of that just made her sick. And she considered whether she should call in to work. But knew she couldn’t. Subs were hard to find, and she didn’t want to put her principal in the bad position of having no one to cover her classes. She was not irresponsible, not thoughtless. To be fair, though, Blaine might want to debate that right now. She wasn’t sure. He was being rather circumspect about his thoughts.
He’d been easier to read at eighteen. He’d liked her. A whole lot, it had seemed. And she’d felt the same.
Now, it all seemed a lifetime ago.
Sad, perhaps sadder than she’d ever been, she drove to school on autopilot and parked in her assigned space. However, when she walked into the building, she had a smile on her face. Her students deserved a hundred percent effort from her. No one needed to know that her heart was breaking.
By noon, she felt as if she’d run twenty miles. She s
tayed at her desk and tried to eat the tuna salad sandwich that she’d packed. But it felt as if it might get caught in her throat. She was halfway done when Raeann poked her head in the door.
“I was worried when I didn’t see you in the lounge,” her friend said. “Everything okay?”
Tilda shook her head. “Come in,” she said. “I need to tell you something.”
Raeann shut the door behind her. “What?”
“You know that I was married. That my husband died.” That had been before she and Raeann had met but they’d had more than one discussion about it.
“Yes.”
“I let you think that Dorian was Josh’s father.”
“I suppose you did. I mean, I never really thought about it. I guess I just assumed.”
“Well, he wasn’t. And the biological father has returned to Roaring Springs after being away for all these years. He knows about Josh. And Josh knows the truth, too.”
Raeann’s mouth made the shape of a circle but she said nothing. “Now I understand why you look as if a truck has run you over,” she said finally.
“It’s stalled on top of me, pressing on my chest, cutting off my breath.”
“Oh, honey,” Raeann said. She came around the desk to give her a hug. “I’m so sorry. But it’s going to be okay. I know it will be.”
“I don’t know. I may have really screwed up this time. I didn’t tell the biological father the truth. He left town more than thirteen years ago thinking that I’d miscarried. Because I’d thought I’d miscarried,” she added. “When I found out the truth, I... I didn’t tell him. He’s pretty angry about that right now.”
Raeann studied her. “You were so young. Just eighteen, right? And you and I both know, better than most, that eighteen-year-old kids can do adult things, but they aren’t even close to being adults. Knowing you the way I do, I’m confident that you had a reason, a good reason, to do what you did.”
