Down the Hidden Path (11 page)

“She knew that?”

“Your dad told me you loved that Ninja Turtle and when the side ripped out, he stitched it himself.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Sewed the thing to his pant leg in the process. Had to redo the whole thing. Your mom and dad were the smartest people I’ve ever known so please, please don’t ever wonder if they knew how you felt about them.” Because that’s what this was really about. Gray knew. She understood. In the last couple years as David had gone from being a kid to being a preteen, he’d been trying to test the boundaries of his independence. He’d even planned to put the stuffed animal in a garage sale, but Angie had pulled it out, saying,
he’ll be sorry if he gets rid of it.

How had they been so smart? They’d never raised a child before, yet seemed to instinctively know what David needed. How was Gray going to fill those shoes?

“Do you need a glass of water?” she asked, wanting to help, not having a clue how. What would Angie do?

He shook his head.

“Shall I come tuck you back in?”

Moonlight seeped through the slats in the window, slashing his face. “Can I lie down with you?”

Her heart nearly burst. “Sure.” Gray patted the bed and readjusted the throw so she could cover them both.

David moved onto his parents’ king-size mattress. He snuggled into the pillow with the Ninja Turtle tucked beneath his arm. “It smells like them,” he whispered.

Gray fought tears because David was trying to capture the scent of
his mom and dad just like she’d tried to capture the scent of her nana. She
placed a hand on his head and the smooth hair he’d gotten from her. It was
black as coal and straight. She might as well be touching her own head. Just as she thought he’d drifted off to sleep, his giant honey eyes opened.

She smiled.

He didn’t smile back, his demeanor serious. Then he blinked and she watched his chin quiver. “I love you, Gray.”

“I love you, too, David.” And her heart melted because she’d hoped and prayed for the last twelve years she’d hear those words, and now that she had, she wished she could change everything in the last several hours if it would mean bringing back his parents, even if that meant never hearing those words from her son’s mouth.

Miah had been gracious about letting her stay home from work without peppering her with questions. She’d told him only what was necessary. The friends she’d been babysitting for died on their way home. She’d be taking care of their son for a bit.

Thursday after the funeral, Gray sat in Wilson Granger’s office. He’d been the Olsons’ attorney for years and had even handled the adoption. For the first few days, she’d stayed at the house with David, but when the quiet seemed to be taking a toll, she’d brought him to her house in River Rock. He’d needed a change of scenery and she’d needed to think. If she’d figured right, she could possibly have her place done in the next six months. It was January now and the weather had been unusually warm, but if a cold snap came, Nana’s house was nothing if not drafty with the wind whistling right under the doors and in around the windows. But they could manage. David loved it there and she wasn’t sure how smart it was for him to be home with his parents gone.

“You look tired, Mary Grace.” Wilson smiled over his half-glasses. He was a kind man who’d aged gracefully in the twelve years she’d known him. “How’s David?”

She was here at his request. Gray had been with Angie and Bill when they assigned Gray as not only the temporary guardian, but as permanent guardian as well in two separate documents that would give her custody in the event of their untimely passing. Now all that was left were the details and that was undoubtedly why Wilson had called. “David’s holding up. Not ready for school yet, of course. In fact, I wanted to ask you about that because Angie and Bill had planned for him to transfer to River Rock when he went into high school. Since I already live there, do you think it would be wise to transfer him now?”

Wilson pulled the glasses from his face.

“I mean, I know he’s been through a lot, and, believe me, I don’t mind driving him to Laver Middle School each day; it’s no trouble. I just wondered what you thought? If a fresh start might be good?”

“Do you remember coming in with the Olsons to set up the guardianship papers?”

“Of course. It was over three years ago. Bill and Angie set up the Temporary Guardianship Document and the Permanent Guardianship Document along with the Instructions to Caregiver and Instructions to Guardian.”

“Yes, that’s right, the Child’s Protective Plan, the directives in case something happens to one or both parents.” Wilson rubbed a hand over the bridge of his nose. “Mary Grace, did the Olsons speak with you about their financial situation?”

What did that have to do with David? Their corporate dealings were none of her business. “I know Bill had expanded his company. Angie mentioned that they were having some difficulties in their finances, but just growing pains.”

Wilson leaned back in his leather chair and stared at the ceiling. “There couldn’t have been a worse time for this to happen. Not that there’s ever a good time, but the Olsons had refinanced their home, essentially liquidating everything to sink into the company.”

Was he saying there was no inheritance for David? That didn’t matter, not really. He was smart, would get a full scholarship to the college of his choice and, in the meantime, Gray was capable of taking care of him. An inheritance didn’t matter.

Wilson went on. “They’d even cut their life insurance policies. The accident was most likely their fault; eyewitnesses said Bill swerved to miss a dog running across the road.”

“I’m sorry, Wilson. What does this have to do with me?”

His chest expanded with the breath he drew, causing the buttons on his dress shirt to groan under the pressure. “I just need you to understand.” He frowned. “Angela didn’t discuss anything with you recently?”

Gray was tiring of this. “She asked me a few weeks ago if we could get coffee, but we never did.”

He frowned. “And that struck you as odd?”

“Only because she had the same look on her face as you do now.” Gray’s heart was pounding. Something wasn’t right about this whole meeting. Wilson had been too formal, too professional, shaking her hand when she arrived when usually he gave her a hug. “Wilson, what’s going on?”

But then the secretary knocked and swung his door open and there . . .

Gray stood from her seat because in the splash of sunlight that slipped through the front d
oor and right into Wilson’s office, she saw something that wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be possible. There, standing on the other side of Wilson’s secretary, was Jeremiah McKinley.

CHAPTER 7

There was more than a little confusion in Miah’s golden eyes as they trailed from Wilson to Gray and back again. His brow furrowed, his shoulders filling the doorway.

“Mr. McKinley, thank you for coming.” Wilson smiled.

And the whole of what might be happening right now began a slow drip through Gray’s system. The secretary disappeared and closed the door behind her.

“Please, have a seat.” Wilson used his attorney voice, the one that was friendly but edged with control.

Miah stepped in, reached out toward Gray. “Did you ask him to call me?”

A shake of her head caused Miah to look to Wilson for answers.

“Before we go any further, I need to ask you if it’s all right for Mary Grace to remain in the room while we discuss the matter concerning Bill and Angela Olson.”

“Wha—Yes, of course it’s okay for Gray to be in here. She’s the one who knew them.” Miah crossed his hands over his chest to wait. He obviously wasn’t enjoying the red tape and half answers.

“Mr. McKinley, Bill and Angela Olson were—and still are—my clients. Do you know who they are?”

Gray’s eyes closed. No. This couldn’t be happening.

“Yes, sir. Friends of Gray—er, Mary Grace—she said they’d died in a car accident and she was keeping their son for a time.”

“And I understand that Mary Grace works for you? Is that why she informed you of the situation?”

“Yes, sir. She’d taken off a couple days to keep their son, and that’s when they had the car accident. She’s been off since, of course.”

“And she didn’t explain anything unique about this situation?”

His gaze landed on her. “No, sir.”

If Gray could sink into the marble floor and disappear, she would. She’d worked so hard to stay away from Miah, worked so hard to maintain the promise she’d made to Angela when Angela had found out the truth.

“Mr. Granger, I don’t mean to be rude, sir, but I spent the last twelve years in the Army and I’ve found that when people need to say something, it’s best to say it and not beat around the bush.”

Wilson rested his forearms on the desk. “All right, Mr. McKinley. The Olsons were also dear friends of mine. I’d like to speak frankly as their attorney, but also as their friend.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Miah clasped his hands in front of him and waited.

“Twelve years ago, I handled an adoption for Mr. and Mrs. Olson. They adopted a son, named David. It was an open adoption, allowing the birth mother to be part of the boy’s life. Mary Grace, would you like to interject anything here?”

Miah looked at her.

Tension wound her body so tightly, she couldn’t move. In her periphery, she knew Miah was putting the pieces together.

He stood from the chair. “Gray, is David your son?”

She attempted a nod.

He took a step closer to her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

But she couldn’t look at him, she couldn’t even breathe because her carefully constructed house of cards was getting ready to crumble.

Wilson continued. “This meeting isn’t about Mary Grace’s relationship to the boy. It’s about yours.”

For a few moments, the world went black around Gray. Beside her, Miah stumbled two steps away and fell back into his chair. Gray dropped her head in her hands and cried.

Miah had been in a firefight once where everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Only once. Usually, time sped up. But there was that single day when he could hear every snap of a twig, every pant of the guys beside him; he could smell the blood rising from a fresh wound on his arm, could taste the sweat as it slid between his lips, could even taste the gun residue in the air.

That paled compared to this. The attorney sat across from him, eyebrows high on his head, fingers tapping the desk as if counting off the seconds until Miah exploded. But he was a trained soldier; explosions weren’t part of his MO. Access, redirect.

The attorney’s information was wrong. Plain and simple. “Mr.—” He had to look at his gold plate to get the name right. It had slipped right out of Miah’s mind. “Mr. Granger, that’s impossible.”

How could the guy have gotten his information so messed up? “Gray.” It was a question and a command and caused her head to snap to look at him. “Tell him. He’s got it wrong.”

That’s when he saw the haunted look in her eyes. And the meeting at the taco stand filtered through his mind—how quickly she’d wanted to get away from him. Then he thought about her resistance to take the job, her lack of willingness to reunite with the man who’d been her best friend. Suddenly, he felt nauseous. Miah leaned forward, planting his hands on his knees, and pulled several deep breaths.

“Miah, I . . . couldn’t tell you.” Gray’s voice, weak, small.

No. This couldn’t be happening. Then he remembered how she spoke of the mystery man in her life and how Miah feared her heart already belonged to someone else, leaving little room for him. “David,” he scoffed.

“I’m sorry.” She looked over at him, but could only hold his gaze for a moment. “When Angela found out it was you, she made me swear never to tell you. If I did, she’d take David away.”

“Why? I never even knew them.” Miah gripped the arms of the chair with such force, he thought they might disintegrate in his hands. “How long have you known he was mine?” he ground out.

“If I may interject,” Wilson said, raising a finger. “Mary Grace told us she didn’t know who the father was at the time of the adoption. That made our . . . situation easier. The Olsons wanted a clean adoption. They didn’t want to run any risk of being challenged by a birth parent down the road. Since Gray requested an open adoption—and since there was no father in the picture—they felt certain it would all be fine.”

“Fine?” Miah choked on the word.

“I think Mary Grace was trying to do the right thing. There was another child the Olsons could have adopted. They may have gone that way if we’d had to track and get the okay of an absent father.”

Gray stared at the floor. “But when Angela got to know me, she said there was no way I’d have a child not knowing who the father was. David was two. I admitted the truth.”

Wilson raised his index finger as if to make a point. “I had no foreknowledge of this. But from what I understand, Angela made Gray promise not to tell you about the boy.”

Miah could feel the adrenaline running through his veins. He turned his fury on Gray. “Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

“Mr. McKinley, I can advise you to get a paternity test.” Wilson leaned back in his leather chair.

Miah tried to wrap his head around all of this. Gray. At eighteen. She hadn’t been dating anyone, spent every free moment with Miah. And there was that one night. He corralled his anger, walked to where she sat and kneeled in front of her. “Is it true? Is David my son?”

She looked as if her world was crumbling. Maybe it was. And in her eyes, he knew. She didn’t even need to say it, but he wouldn’t let her off the hook.

“Yes,” she whispered. “He even has your eyes.”

Miah’s eyes drifted shut.

Wilson kept talking. “You’re still welcome to do a paternity test.”

Miah shoved to his feet and spun. “Not necessary. If Gray says he’s my son then he is.”

Wilson folded his hands in front of him. “Now, if we’ve established that, let’s move on to the next—”

Miah raised both hands. “Stop. Just stop. I need a minute.” He walked to a small window that overlooked the street. Outside, a small child was being chased by his mother in the park that anchored the square of downtown River Rock. “I have a son.” The toddler in the park opened his mouth wide when his mother grabbed him up in her arms. “I have a son.” And the whole of all he’d missed, all he’d not gotten to experience, overwhelmed him.

He spun toward Gray. “How could you? How could you watch him live and grow and not tell me?” The oxygen was too thin in Wilson’s office and Miah suddenly felt light-headed. “How, Gray?”

She stood, looking only slightly more in control than she had moments ago. “You’d run off to Hollywood, Miah.” Her voice was flat.

“And this was to somehow punish me?”

“It’s not all about
you
. I was trying to do what was right for David.”

He took a step toward her, pulling Wilson up out of his chair again. “By keeping him from his father?”

“You were a kid, Miah. One who ran off with a starlet.”

“And what were you?”

“Smart enough to know that a couple like the Olsons could give David a good life.” Her hands were fisted at her sides, a motion he’d seen her do whenever she talked about things that were slipping through her fingers.

He smacked his chest with an open hand. “We could have given him a good life. Together.”

“We weren’t
together
, Miah. You made that clear that night when you took me home. You called it a ‘good-bye send-off.’ Remember?” There were tears on her cheeks now.

“I was . . .” He shook his head. “I was just trying to make sense of what happened between us.”

She squared her shoulders. “Well, you seemed to reconcile it all pretty well.”

For an instant, he hated himself for having said those words to her. It was wrong. He’d even known it at the time. “No.” Miah shook his head and stepped out of the regret. “That doesn’t justify this.”

“I was three months along and Nana had a stroke. We left River Rock and went to live with my aunt in Laver. From that moment on, everything I did was so David could have a good life. With two parents who loved him and loved each other.”

And then once again, it hit him. “I have a son.” His eyes trailed the room, looking for something to bring equilibrium, but there wasn’t anything. A wall clock on the mantel of a fake fireplace, a palm tree in the corner, but it all looked rubbery and unreal; even the walls seemed to be melting before him.

Wilson’s voice interrupted him. “If we could move on with these proceedings, it would be helpful.”

Miah looked at him as if he were an alien, newly landed, searching for the man in charge. Silently, he passed Gray and dropped into the seat.

“The Olsons have granted you Permanent Guardianship of their son, Mr. McKinley.”

Gray sprang out of her chair. “What? That’s impossible. I was with them when you set up the documents—” And then, Gray swayed, grasping, reaching out, but finding nothing but air. Miah grabbed her and lowered her into her seat.

Wilson continued. “Recently, Angela and Bill amended those documents. Yes, for years, Gray was to have sole custody of David. But because of their recent financial decisions, their business was going under. They felt as though it would be in the child’s best interest to be in a stable situation.” Wilson leaned forward, his leather chair squeaking with the movement. He offered a friendly smile. “Whether we’d like to admit it or not, money is a vital concern when one is considering the long-term care of his or her child. Once you returned from the war, a decorated soldier, owning your own home, and, of course, the fact that your family is the Havingers, well.” He raised his hands as if the name
Havinger
solved all the money issues of the world.

“Because I’m a Havinger?”

Wilson put on his game face and glanced through the documents in front of him. He handed a small stack of pages to Jeremiah. “Because you have a stable home situation. No one ever expects something like this to happen, but the Olsons were very proactive in their wishes.”

There was ragged breathing coming from the seat beside him, but Miah didn’t care.

“Wilson.” Gray was trying to gather her composure. She was failing miserably. “I have a home.”

He scoffed. “Mary Grace, Angela didn’t feel it was suitable for raising a child.”

She wrapped her hands around the chair and leaned forward. “I was making it suitable for David. I started working on my grandmother’s house so I could have a place for him if he attended River Rock high.”

“Angela was also concerned about your work situation. You left a full-time position at Laver Community to take an as-needed job at River Rock.”

Miah saw the panic on her face, in her eyes, but it didn’t matter. For weeks she’d worked at his house without bothering to mention the fact they had a son together. “For—”

“For David?” Wilson repeated, almost mockingly so.

Her head dropped. “The job at Laver was nights. I never got to see him.”

“Mary Grace, you know Angela was only trying to do what was right for David. Look at this as an opportunity.” He pointed at Miah. “David will get to know his biological father. This could help give him back a little bit of what he’s lost. If, of course, Mr. McKinley is interested in having the boy.”

Her gaze shot to Miah, pleading, fearful, bloodshot.

His focus went to the first document in his hand. It was titled “Nomination of Guardian” and outlined that he was to serve as guardian in the event that neither William nor Angela were able to. He read on to see Gray’s name near the bottom. In the event Jeremiah was unwilling or unable to serve as guardian, the task fell to Mary Grace Smith.

Somehow, seeing the terms
guardianship
and
parent
on the pages brought the whole thing home for Jeremiah. This was his child, his blood. A boy he’d never met. Shock slapped him once again when he thought of raising, nurturing, helping this child grow into a man. He cleared his throat. “Oh yes, Mr. McKinley wants the boy.”