Having Faith (26 page)

“Yes.”  He offered her an indulgent smile and placed his hand over hers.  “We shared something once, a very long time ago.”

Nathan’s hand felt heavy and foreign; she reclaimed hers almost immediately and gripped her coffee mug.  She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued on.  “You were there for me once, and I do appreciate that.  But I’m afraid that I cannot allow sentimentality to hold sway in this situation.  One million dollars is a lot of money, Faith, no matter what happened between us.” 

It took her a moment to process his words.  “You think I’m here to use our previous, uh, relationship, to persuade you to drop your motion?”

“Aren’t you?” he asked, spreading his arms open, once again the consummate lawyer.  In the back of her mind, Faith pictured Shane.  He’d made her a little nervous at first, but he was nothing like this.  None of the Callaghans fit the standard stereotypes, come to think of it.  Sean cared more about her and Matt’s safety than he did about making money.  Shane wanted to be her legal counsel, pro bono.  And the others – Ian, Jake, Michael, and even the big scary guy, Kane, had been very good to Matt.

“...for someone like you.” Nathan was saying.  “Not that I blame you.”

Faith sat up a little straighter, her hand gripping the coffee mug so tightly her knuckles started to whiten.  Certainly she hadn’t heard what she thought she had.  “I beg your pardon?”

“Come now, Faith.  We both know your family didn’t have a decent pot to piss in.  That kind of money is enough to make anyone think twice about stretching the truth a little, eh?”

Faith stiffened.  She’d never realized what a snob Nathan was before.  Yes, his family had lived in a big house on the wealthier side of town, and her family hadn’t.  Because her father was a minister, they lived in whatever the parish church provided them, which often didn’t amount to much.  But they always had food on the table and clothes on their backs, and they thanked God for whatever other blessings they could list at any given time, some days leaner than others. 

Pushing the hurtful slight aside – he didn’t even seem to realize he’d said anything offensive, she tried to remember that she was here for Matt’s sake.  And somehow, she had to explain that to Nathan.

“Although,” he said, dropping his voice into what he no doubt believed was a sensual tone, “perhaps we can make some arrangement.”  He reached over for her hand again as his leg found hers beneath the table.  “I can set you up,” he said softly.  “A nice place on the outskirts of town for you and your boy.”  He lifted her fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss to them.  “And we can... renew our acquaintance.”

She heard the coffee cup slam down onto the counter much harder than it should have, and reigned in her own growing revulsion before Nathan said even one more thing.  “I don’t want your money, Nathan,” she said as she tugged her hand out of his grasp and wiped her knuckles on her leg.  She was proud of how even and calm her voice sounded when all she really wanted to do was up-end that plate of sausage and biscuits over his receding hairline.  The contents of that steaming carafe of coffee would look pretty good in his lap, too.

He blinked.  “Of course you do.  Why else would you be here?”

“Matthew,” she said very clearly.  On cue, Matt stood slowly, then turned around and started walking toward her.

“Matt, this is Nathan Longstreet.  Nathan, I want you to meet my son, Matthew O’Connell.” 

Nathan looked at the young man standing beside their booth.  The boy had her dark coppery hair and gray eyes, but there was little else in the way of similarity.  He was big, towering over Faith, with broad shoulders. 
His
build. 
His
features.

Matt nodded tersely, and slid in next to his mother.  The expression on his face looked like he was just barely containing himself from giving the older man a good beat down. 

“Mr. Longstreet,” he said with forced politeness.

“Jesus, Faith.”  Nathan, stunned, looked at Faith, then back to Matt.  There was no denying the boy was his.  Just by looking across the table, he knew what the results of a paternity test would be.  For several moments, Faith indulged in enjoying his very obvious discomfort.  She ignored the little pang of guilt at taking such a pleasure.

“What do you want?” he asked softly.

“Me?  I want nothing,” Faith said quietly.  “But Matt wanted to meet you.”

Nathan paled.  “How old are you?” he asked, but he already knew.

“Fourteen, as of September second,” Matt replied evenly, his gray eyes analyzing Nathan’s every feature.  Faith knew he was comparing it to the face he saw in the mirror each morning.

“Fourteen,” Nathan whispered.  He looked back to Faith, the shock on his face almost as hurtful as his denial all those years ago.  “I didn’t believe you,” he said.  “I thought you were trying to get back at me because Carla and I...”

He shook his head, and for the first time, Faith saw a hint of regret in Nathan’s eyes.  “And then you left.  All these years I let myself believe...  I heard rumors, of course...”  His eyes widened.  “Jesus Christ, Faith.  Your family really kicked you out, didn’t they?”

She didn’t have to answer.  The look on her face said it all.

“Mom?” Matt asked, and now she felt her son’s eyes on her, too.  She had never told Matt the full truth of it, of exactly what her decision to keep him had cost her.

“Yes,” she said, drawing courage from somewhere way deep inside. 

“
Jesus
.”

For some unfathomable reason, Faith actually felt sorry for Nathan in that moment.  It hadn’t always been easy, but she had her son.  “It wasn’t all bad.  Your dad helped us find a place to live.  He’d come and visit sometimes, spend some time with Matt, but never told him who he was.”

“I’m sorry, Faith.  Forgive me.”

Faith inclined her head.  “Thank you.”  She looked into Nathan’s eyes, saw real torment there.  “And I forgave you a long time ago, Nathan.”  She didn’t realize the truth of those words until they came out of her mouth.  All these years she’d blamed him, but it was herself she’d needed to forgive, not Nathan.

She slipped her purse over her shoulder and turned to her son.  “Okay?” Faith asked Matt.

“Yeah,” he said, exhaling.  “I’ve heard enough.  Thanks, Mom.”

“Wait!” Nathan said.  “You’re not leaving are you?  You just got here.  And I don’t know anything about you.”

Matt turned calm, thoughtful eyes to him.  “No,” he said.  “You don’t.”  There was not a trace of the hurt or anger she had feared this meeting would bring, just acceptance and a sense of closure.

“Can you stay?  Just for a little while?  Please?”

Matt looked to Faith.  “It’s up to you,” she said, so proud of him in that moment. 

“Nah,” Matt said finally.  “I’m good.”  He stood and offered his hand to Nathan.  “It was nice meeting you.”

Stunned, Nathan took his hand.  “You’ve got a good, strong grip,” he murmured.

One side of Matt’s mouth curved upward in a grin, so like Kieran’s that Faith stilled for a moment as yet another realization hit:  Matt was as attached to Kieran as she was. 

“Thanks, Nathan,” she said, grabbing her check, leaving Nathan’s.  “We won’t bother you again.”

“Oh,” she said, reaching into her bag and extracting a familiar looking envelope.  “Here.  Your papers.  Burn them, shred them, do whatever you want with them.  We’ve gotten what we came for.”  Matt draped an arm around his mother’s shoulders as they walked away from the table, leaving Nathan Longstreet in a mild case of shock. 

“Y
ou okay, Mom?” Matt asked once they had walked out of view.

No, she thought inwardly.  She was not alright.  Her head was throbbing with the potential for a full-blown migraine, probably brought on by the stress of the last few hours and Nathan’s heavy cologne.  And her stomach felt like there were a bunch of miniature leprechauns doing a jig in there.

But that was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.

The events of the last hour or so had made a lot of things crystal clear.  Not the least of which was that she was hopelessly, desperately in love with one big, blue-eyed Irishman.  Sitting there across from a man she thought she had once loved, Faith couldn’t help but compare everything about him to Kieran, and there just was no comparison.  Kieran was everything she’d ever wanted in a man and more.

And it had absolutely nothing to do with his money or his family or his success.

Despite being worlds apart on the socio-economic scale, he had always treated her as an equal.  With kindness.  Generosity.  Respect.  Love.  She’d been the only one to allow things like wealth and status to cloud her judgment. 

And in a few short months Kieran had been more of a father to Matt than his real father – or anyone else for that matter – ever had.

God, she was such an idiot.

“Yeah,” she finally answered, blowing out a breath.  No sense laying any more burdens at her son’s feet.  He’d had enough drama to last him a while.  “How about you?”

He grinned.  “Yeah.  Wouldn’t have picked him for my dad, though.  The guy’s a complete tool.”

After a brief moment of surprise, Faith couldn’t help but laugh.  She wound her way through Matt’s arm; thankfully he was not the type to be overly embarrassed by the show of affection.  “That he is,” she agreed. 

“What did you ever see in him?”

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question, literally?  “He was very good-looking,” Faith said, smiling when Matt rolled his eyes.  “He was smart, athletic, and popular.  But I think what really did it was that he was nice to me.”

“Other guys weren’t?”  Matt asked, as if the very thought was inconceivable.

“Not like him.  The ones who came from good families.  Who had nice clothes and expensive cars.”  Like Kieran.  Kieran was all those things, and he had been nice to her.  And he never once asked her for anything more than to share her life with him. 

As if she was the one who had everything
he
wanted.

“Your family didn’t?”

Faith was done carefully constructing answers out of partial truths to make things sound rosier than they were.  If he wanted the truth, she would give it to him.  He’d already proven he could handle it.

“No.  We were church-mouse poor.  My dad was a preacher, so we lived in whatever house, shack, or trailer the parish provided.  It was one of the benefits of the job,” she explained when Matt gave her a questioning look.  “And the members of the congregation gave us stuff – food, secondhand clothing, an old beat-up station wagon.” 

Faith swallowed a pang of regret.  Her whole childhood, everything she had had been based on the charity of others.  Maybe that’s why she was so vehemently against accepting it now.

They walked in silence while Matt processed that.  “You never told me they kicked you out.”  Matt’s voice was soft, slightly reproachful. 

“No,” she agreed.  And she didn’t want to talk about it now, either, but this trip was turning out to be all about facing demons, wasn’t it?  What were a few more?  Matt wasn’t a baby anymore.  If he asked, she would tell him, no matter how painful the truth was.  He deserved that much.

“Because of me,” he frowned.

“No,” Faith said firmly.  “Because of
me
, Matt.”  She still remembered the look of tremendous relief on her mother’s face the day she picked up that suitcase and walked out the door without causing a scene.  No teary goodbyes.  No I love yous.  Just profound relief.

It still hurt.

Faith never understood why her father seemed to hate her so much.  She’d tried to be good, she really did.  But she was never good enough.  And her father never looked at her the way he did his other children.  Her mother hadn’t been much better, but then Faith assumed she was afraid of bringing John O’Connell’s wrath down on her, too.

She hadn’t realized she’d voiced a few of those thoughts out loud until Matt squeezed her hand.

“You grew up around here, right?”  Matt’s voice brought her back from her musings.  Faith nodded, surprised to find that her feet had unknowingly carried them in that direction.  “Yeah, just a couple of miles, actually.”

“Will you show me?”

“Why?”

Matt shrugged.  “We’re here till tomorrow, right?  Seems like as good a thing to do as any.”

There was more to it than that, Faith guessed.  Matt wanted to know where he came from.

“Okay,” she agreed after only a moment’s hesitation.  Maybe she needed this, too.  Maybe it would help her come to grips with a few things, provide some closure.  Just like saying their final goodbyes to Ethan, and letting go of all the emotional baggage she’d carried around over Nathan.  It seemed like this trip was about laying the past to rest so they could begin to move forward again.

The parish-provided house didn’t look like she remembered it.  It was much smaller.  Older looking.  More rundown.  Judging by the state of disrepair, the congregation wasn’t as diligent in providing free labor and supplies as they used to be, but Faith supposed things were tough all over.  It had never been a wealthy parish at the best of times.

“This is where you grew up?” Matt asked in disbelief.  The place made their tiny cottage look like the Taj Mahal.

The house was behind the big church hall, out of sight of the main road, but close enough for the preacher to be at the church in a matter of minutes.

“Excuse me.  Can I help you?”

Faith stiffened.  The last fifteen years melted away in that moment at the sound of that voice.  Matt turned around first.  The woman had graying hair, was on the thin side.  A well-worn pale blue dress, faded from too many washings, hung on her thin, bony frame.

When Faith faced the voice, the woman’s eyes widened, and she dropped the basket of fruit she held in her hands.  “
Faith?
”  Both hands came up to cover her mouth.

“Mama.”

The woman looked as if she had seen a ghost.  She broke her gaze away from Faith and looked up at Matt.

Faith attempted a smile.  “This is Matthew, Mama.  Your grandson.”

The woman shook off her shock and anger contorted her expression into something so ugly Faith instinctively placed herself in front of Matt and took half a step back.