Love Me Tonight (23 page)

When she could catch her breath, she said sincerely, “Okay. I will.”

He parked in front of her building, walked with her to her door and stood there looking down at her. “You are serenely beautiful tonight, and I've been a very proud man.”

“Not more proud than I was when you told those people that you loved me.”

“Yes, I do. I'll be here Sunday at twelve o'clock.” At the inquiring expression on her face, he said, “Tomorrow and through Sunday morning, I'll be cramming for my date with the judge on Monday morning.”

She opened her arms, and when he walked into them, she sensed that he'd needed communion with her. He held her so close, stroking and caressing her. “I love you, Heather. More that you will ever guess.” His kiss seared her lips, and she opened to him. But after savoring it for a second, she stepped away because she knew that, in spite of the late hour, he'd go home and work.

A faint smile played around his lips. “Thanks for the temperance. I'll make up for it.”

 

After a morning of heavy wind and rain, the sun shone brightly as Judson and Heather arrived at Telford's home in Eagle Park that Sunday afternoon. “I'd been thinking that I'd have to carry you to the house,” Judson joked, “in order to protect those pretty shoes on your feet. Fortunately, the sun's shining, and there're no puddles here. I'm beginning to believe that being impractical is part of being a woman.”

“You wouldn't expect me to come here in brogans, would you? Anyway, I don't weigh much, so carrying me wouldn't be a big deal.”

He took her hand and headed up the walk. “I didn't say it would be.” When he stopped walking, she gazed up at him with an inquiring expression on her face. God help him, but she could reduce him to putty with that look. He kissed her lips and reached for the bell at about the time that the door opened.

“Hi. You're just in time for a light snack before we leave,” Alexis said. “Come in.”

After a light repast of smoked-salmon sandwiches, deviled eggs, tea and Henry's chocolate-chip cookies, they left for Frederick. The ceremony lasted about half an hour, and all the while his thoughts centered on that day long ago when he was christened in the same church in the absence of his parents and in a ceremony of which the record no longer existed. What words had the preacher said, and had his grandmother put the kind of white gown on him that Marc wore? Did anyone play an instrument?

“What is it?” Heather whispered. “Darling, what's the matter?”

“What do you mean?”

She eased her arms around him. “You're… There're tears on your face,” she whispered.

“Don't worry. It's all right. I'll tell you later.”

At the end of the ceremony, everyone congratulated Marc's parents, and then they returned to the Harringtons' house. Henry walked up the steps with Judson. “I see the ceremony moved you like it did me, Judson. Take matters in yer hands and get some young ones of yer own.”

“It was more than that, Henry. They recorded the ceremony for Marc, his children and grandchildren. I've been told that I was christened in that same church before that same altar, but there's no record of it, and I never knew the person who arranged it.”

“I know that's tough, son, but as soon as you get yer own family, you'll stop frettin' over the past. You're Sparkman's boy or me name ain't Henry. Far as I'm concerned, that ain't up for argument.” Judson put his arm around the shoulders of the frail old man and let the gesture suffice for an expression of gratitude.

He walked into the living room behind Henry and stopped, unable to move another step. Heather sat on the living room floor with her back against the sofa holding Marc in her arms. She gazed down at the child as if seeing a miracle for the first time. He'd never seen her face so soft or her expression so tender. She leaned down, kissed the baby's cheek and, in response, Marc
bubbled with a happy grin, waving his hands in delight. Judson wanted to take her and run with her to any place where they would be alone and he could show her how he loved her. He knew that his face betrayed his raw emotions and the powerful effect that this Madonna-like Heather had on him. He turned to walk away and bumped into Drake.

“She's always beautiful,” Drake said, “but right now, she's radiant. I imagine that picture set you back a good bit. Let's get a drink. What would you like?”

“Whatever you're serving, brother, so long as it will help restore my balance.” He would take to his grave that picture of Heather smiling and serene with Marc in her arms.

 

“Would you believe that's the first time I ever held a little baby?” Heather asked Judson later that day during their drive back to Baltimore.

“Yes. I can believe that. I wish I'd had a camera. It was the most beautiful, the most touching picture I ever saw. It literally took my breath away. Why were you sitting on the floor?”

“I wanted to hold him to see what it was like, and I figured if I was sitting on the floor, I couldn't drop him. Alexis thought I was off the wall, but I did not want to drop that baby. He was so sweet, and do you know he actually liked me?”

The child's reaction to her filled her with pride. His warm little body in her arms had a life-giving quality, and she had given him back to Alexis with reluctance
and regret. “I didn't want to give him up,” she said, “and that still surprises me. Judson, it's a little scary. Having children after age thirty-five can be risky.”

“Don't worry about that.”

She just realized how badly she wanted children. Previously, she'd thought it would be nice to have them, but that it wouldn't bother her too much if she didn't.

“I hope you're right. What are you doing this evening?”

“I was hoping to have dinner with you.”

“Unless you have to have a gourmet meal, I can turn out a really nice supper in forty minutes, and then we can eat for a couple of minutes before you dash off to be a lawyer.”

“Saying no to you is not something I feel like doing right now. Do you need anything from a deli or grocery store?”

“No. Thanks. I…uh…I have everything I need.”

His laughter told her that she hadn't fooled him and that he knew she'd planned all along to have him spend the evening with her in her home. “Oh, all right,” she said.
“‘When the mountain wouldn't go to Muhammad, Muhammad went to the mountain.'”

A grin captured his face. “I get it. That's the mark of a good lover and a good lawyer—if it doesn't work one way, try another.”

At home, she changed into a peasant skirt and blouse, cooked and, in forty minutes, served a meal of broiled salmon, steamed asparagus and parsleyed potatoes with chocolate pie à la mode for dessert. They cleaned the
kitchen and sat with each other on the couch, letting their fingers entwine while listening to CDs of their favorite music.

Suddenly, without thinking, she said, “Why did you cry today? I thought it would kill me to watch those tears roll down you face.”

Like a spring overflowing, he began talking about that moment, his voice betraying the pain he felt. Unable to bear it, she climbed on top of him, locked her arms around his neck and rocked on him, loving him until she felt him bulge beneath her. She took him into her body. “What do you need?” she asked him. “Tell me.”

“You. Only you and always you.” They exploded together, and she relaxed, happy in the knowledge that she'd given him the love that he so badly needed.

He held her close. “I want you to remember this in the next couple of weeks,” he said. “When you begin to doubt me, stop and remember this moment. I love you more than I love my life.”

Chills plowed through her system. “I will. I have to, because I love you.”

 

He walked into court followed by his senior associate and two law clerks, nodded to the opposing lawyer and took his seat, waiting for the arrival of the judge. The courtroom reminded him of his own search for truth. He still had no response in his birth-certificate search. That didn't make sense unless the information he sent had proved inadequate.

The judge arrived, and he focused on the task at
hand. He turned to walk back to his seat and get a file from his briefcase and glimpsed Heather. She gave him the thumbs-up sign. She was there for him, and he could almost feel his chest expanding.

At a break, he met Heather in the corridor near the trial attorney's office. “Thank you for coming. I know you have plenty of work to do, and I want you to know that your being here means a lot.”

“Of course I came. You're doing a great job.”

“I love you, woman. Consider yourself kissed.”

He went into the office and telephoned the Maryland vital statistics registrar. “When may I expect to receive the copy of my birth certificate?” he asked a clerk.

“But, Mr. Philips, we mailed that to you ten days ago. You didn't receive it?”

“No, I didn't.” Every nerve in his body seemed to stand on end.

“I'm sorry, sir. If you come to the office, I'll be glad to give you a copy. We're open Monday through Friday from eight to four. If you call me first, I'll have it ready when you come.”

He thanked her, but for a minute, he was hardly aware of his surroundings. He looked at his watch. Four minutes to court time, and he couldn't even tell Heather. After thinking about it and recalling Telford's warning that the birth certificate may not contain the truth, he decided not to mention it until he saw it. And that wouldn't happen until after the trial, because the court recessed at five o'clock, an hour after the vital statistics office closed. Still, his years of waiting seemed near an end.

 

Just before noon, three days later and the first on which Heather did not attend a part of the trial, the jury found in favor of his client. He raced out of court and dashed to the registrar's office.

“Here you are, Mr. Philips,” the clerk said as she handed him a large manila envelope. He stared down at it, wondering if he'd be sorry that he'd embarked on this effort. “Is…everything all right, sir?” the woman asked him.

“Oh, yes. Yes. I never thought I'd actually have this in my hand. Thank you so much.”

He left that office, got into his car and didn't stop driving until he parked in front of the building in which Heather lived and went up to her apartment. Until then, it had not occurred to him that she might not have gotten home, and his heart seemed to hover near the pit of his belly until her voice said, “Who is it?”

“Judson. Open the door, sweetheart.”

The door opened, and she gazed up at him with an inquiring expression, for he hadn't previously paid her a surprise visit. He walked past her, turned and shoved the envelope to her.

She looked at the return address. “Oh, my goodness! Do you want me to open it?'

“No, I… Let's sit down a minute.” She sat beside him as he opened the envelope with shaky fingers. He stared at the words he had longed nearly all of his life to see. His hands trembled as he read them. Slowly and now composed, he read them again:

He read it aloud a third time, his voice carrying even to his ears a tone of wonder, then he handed the certificate to Heather. “Did I see it correctly?”

“You definitely did, and I'm so happy for you. I suspect your mother registered the birth herself, and she did it correctly. I hoped that it would come out this way. Do you resent your mother for allowing you to think she was your adoptive mother?”

He shook his head. “I'm over that part of it because I've known since my first meeting with Aunt Cissy. I suppose Mom did what she had to do. For some reason, she didn't want Louis Philips to know she'd had a child as an unmarried mother.” He slumped in the chair.

“What's the matter?” she asked him, her voice urgent with concern.

“I'm…washed out, exhausted. I feel as if I've just wrestled a steer. I need to call Telford and Scott, but there's one more thing. I left a DNA sample at Diagnostic Services in Hagerstown. I want a DNA test. For all I know, this certificate was filed by someone other than my mother.” He dialed Telford's cell phone number.

“Telford Harrington speaking.”

“Hello, Telford. Judson here. You said you were
willing to take a DNA test. Does the offer still stand? I left a sample with Diagnostic Services in Hagerstown.”

“We don't need it, but if that's what you want, the three of us will do it tomorrow morning, and I'll ask them to process it right away.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, we'll really know the truth,” he said to Heather after he hung up.

He laughed. “I feel better than I did a few minutes earlier when I doubted what my eyes beheld. If it comes out all right, will you go to Eagle Park with me?”

She wrapped her arms around him. “Of course. Have faith, honey.”

“I'm trying, but I'm so close. It's as if my whole life is suspended out there someplace.” He waved his hand toward the unknown.

“Come on. Let's get some food. I'll treat you to shrimp and rice Italian style.”

He jumped up. “Works for me.”

 

For the next few weeks, he jumped each time the telephone rang. On Friday evening at about five-thirty, he received the news. “Mr. Philips, this Dr. Horace Epps at Diagnostic Services. I have the results of the DNA tests. You're a match with Telford, Russell and Drake Harrington. The tests are ninety-nine percent positive for you with Telford and Russell and show a ninety-nine-point-nine percent probability that you and Drake
are from the same blood line. We'll be open Saturday until twelve-thirty.”