Truth Be Told (20 page)

G
race and Conner stood in front of the gold letters that spelled Palm Court Café.

“Mr. Monroe, your party is waiting inside.”

Grace gripped Conner's hand as they followed the mâitre d' through the restaurant to a table along the far wall. Although Grace was dressed as if she were going to a council meeting and Conner as if he were presenting a major case, Pilar wore a simple black sweater as a shawl over a white T-shirt. She sat with her back to the window; the noon light shined behind her.

Grace held her gasp inside. She couldn't remember how many days had passed since she'd seen Pilar in Encounters, but it wasn't enough time to shed ten, maybe fifteen pounds, though that's the way Pilar looked. Her makeup couldn't hide the hollowness of her cheeks or the blanched tint of her skin. Her arms were mere bones. She was being ravaged by disease.

Still, Pilar smiled as they approached. Her eyes locked with Grace's.

“Hello …” Pilar's voice trailed off, as if she had more to say, but couldn't find the words. When she looked at Conner, her smile widened. “Thank you for meeting me.”

Conner nodded as he held the chair for Grace, then sat next to her.

In the discomforting silence, Grace smoothed the yellow tablecloth in the spot in front of her. When she allowed her glance to rise, Pilar was doing the same to her space.

“I'm glad we could all get together,” Conner said. He slipped his hand across the table and held Grace's.

Pilar nodded and looked at Grace as she spoke. “I feel blessed that we're moving forward.”

Grace spoke only with her eyes.

“Would you like anything to eat?” Conner asked them both.

It was almost noon, and though too many hours had passed since Grace's last meal, she couldn't fathom the concept of food. Her sole desire was to get away from this place.

“I'm not hungry,” Pilar said, as if she spoke for all of them. She kept her gaze on Grace. “I've wanted to speak to you.”

Something we have in common,
Grace thought. She could see Conner shifting from the corner of her eye.

“I want to thank you … for this.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Pilar. Nothing's been decided.”

Pilar's glance skittered between Grace and Conner. “I'm just saying, to come this far …”

“New York is not far.”

Pilar pressed her lips together before she said, “That's not what I meant.”

Conner said, “Do either of you want coffee?”

“No,” Grace and Pilar said together.

Conner cleared his throat in the silence that followed. “Then maybe we should …” Without finishing, he grabbed a Federal Express packet from his briefcase.

As he did, Pilar pulled an envelope from her purse.

Conner said, “This is from the diagnostics center. Everything we need is here.” He turned the packet over in his hands and looked at Pilar. “I was thinking that I could get Solomon's and your samples and take the package to the center.”

Pilar waited a moment. “I've decided to have the test done at the New York College Medical Center.”

Grace and Conner blinked in one accord.

“I thought you didn't have a place in mind,” Conner said.

“I didn't, but when I thought about it, I realized that the tests should be done where Solomon was born.”

Grace's eyes narrowed.

“And it's where I'm being treated.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Conner said.

“And NYCMC can have the results in less than a week. Any days we can save …” She looked away.

Conner slipped his package back into his briefcase. “What do I have to do?”

Grace studied Pilar as she passed a plastic baggie to Conner. She examined her eyes, watched her hands, scrutinized every motion.

Conner pushed his chair from the table. “I'm going to the rest room.” He lowered his voice. “Will you be okay?”

Grace's eyes never left Pilar. “Of course.”

Conner had barely taken three steps away when Pilar jutted her chin forward and smiled at Grace with a different confidence. Now Pilar looked at Grace with the assurance of a woman who had shared her husband.

“I'm glad we have some time alone,” Pilar said.

Grace remained silent.

“I want to thank you for coming with Conner.”

“You don't have to. He's my husband.”

Pilar turned somber. “I only came to Conner because of my situation.”

“If Solomon is Conner's son, we should know.”

“I never wanted to intrude on your life. For that, I apologize.”

Grace spoke before she had a chance to think. “I thought you'd be apologizing for sleeping with my husband.”

A beat passed. “What I did was wrong. My only defense is that I was helping a friend through a bad time. It turned into something more.”

If she had been keeping score, Grace would have given the point to Pilar. She now knew that they'd shared more than a bed; Conner had shared details of their life.

“Look,” Pilar began softly. Her tone made Grace wonder if Pilar could see the tears on her heart. “Conner never gave me a penny or a promise. There was never any doubt that he loved you.” She sounded as if she harbored regret. Pilar glanced down, and when she looked up, her eyes had changed, holding more fear than sadness. “But in the middle of that sin, I received a wonderful gift, Grace. Now, Solomon is my only concern.”

It was the mother's heart in Grace that said, “I understand.”

“We can't be enemies. You're going to be …” Pilar's lips trembled. “My son has more days in front of him than behind him. You're going to be there for the best of his life. It's important that we find a way …”

Pilar broke her gaze as Conner returned to the table. “I did both swabs.” He set the small envelope on the table as if it were precious cargo.

Pilar placed it inside her bag. “I already have Solomon's samples. I'm going to take them right over.”

“We can do that for you,” Grace said.

“No,” Pilar's objection came quickly. “I … asked the driver if we could stop … on our way back to Queens.”

Grace leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms again.

Conner said, “Well, I don't think we should hold this table….”

“Yes,” Pilar said, almost jumping from her seat. “I want to stop by the hospital and be home when Solomon gets there.”

When Pilar stood, Conner did the same and reached across the table, helping her. “I'll walk you out.”

“Thank you.”

Pilar's steps were slow; she wavered as if she were marching on wooden legs. By the time they got to the lobby, Pilar staggered like a marathon runner at the finish line.

“I'll take her to the car,” Conner said as he kissed Grace on her cheek.

“I'll meet you in the room.”

Pilar said, “Thank you again, Grace.”

Grace nodded and turned away without saying anything. She didn't have any words left.

“That went well,” Conner said when he entered the hotel room.

Grace turned from the window where she'd stood. “Pilar doesn't look good.”

Conner nodded and sat on the couch. He loosened his tie. “The medication has been as devastating as the disease. She's allergic to most of it.” He exhaled as if he'd been holding the emotions of their meeting inside.

Grace sauntered to him. “I was surprised she didn't want to use the diagnostics center.” She kept her tone as casual as she could.

“I wasn't. It makes sense that she'd want the test done at a place she could trust.”

What about our trust?
Grace thought.

“And the medical center costs much less than the diagnostics center. Pilar said it's only two hundred dollars. I gave her a check.”

Her glance stayed on Conner for a long moment before she said, “What do we do now?”

“Well, Pilar thinks it's a good idea for us to meet Solomon.” He paused, and though he looked straight ahead, Grace knew he was watching her. “Even before the results are back.”

Inside, she still wanted to fight. “As long as she doesn't introduce you as the boy's father, Conner.”

His eyes were weary, but he smiled. “Thank you, Grace. Pilar's going to call tomorrow. We'll probably go on Saturday.”

Grace nodded. “I'm going to lie down for a little while.”

She kissed Conner, reassuring him that all was well. But what she really wanted was time alone. She needed to focus, put herself inside Pilar's shoes, and figure out just how far she'd be willing to walk if she were in the same place.

Grace leaned her ear against the bedroom door again, listening. The voices from the television were only a whisper, and she prayed that Conner was either engrossed in the news or that the softness of the hotel's couch had lulled him to sleep.

She tiptoed back to the bed and pulled her cell phone from her purse. She checked the number she'd written on the pad, took a deep breath, and dialed.

“New York College Medical Center. How may I direct your call?”

She didn't know. “Uh … I'd like some information on a paternity test.”

“Hold a moment, please.”

Grace turned toward the door and tried to think of what she'd say if Conner walked in.

“Medical Genetics.”

“Yes, I'd like some information on having a paternity test done.”

“Well, it's six hundred and fifty dollars. That covers the mother, father, and child.” Grace grabbed a pencil from the desk. “The next test is on the twenty-second of May, and the results take six to eight weeks.”

Grace frowned. “Wait a minute. The test is in May? What do you mean? We have to come in?”

“Yes. There are centers that do this through the mail, but to make sure there are no errors, we do the tests in person.”

“And you're sure it takes six weeks?”

The woman sighed. “Yes.”

“And it costs six hundred and fifty dollars?”

Her sigh was deeper this time. “Yes.”

“Thank you,” Grace whispered before she hung up. She stared at the notes she'd taken and wondered why the words on the paper were so different from the ones Pilar had told them.

I
t would have made a lot more sense if we'd stayed in Queens,
Grace thought as she stared at the same houses they passed on their way to the Plaza. They were driving back toward the airport into St. Albans.

When they awakened this morning, Conner told her that a car would pick them up at nine.

“Let's rent one,” she'd said. “It'll give us more options.”

He nodded, and as he turned to roll from the bed, she'd stopped him. “We should pray first.”

He said thank-you with his eyes, then held her hand as they prayed.

That had been over two hours ago, and they had exchanged few words since. Thoughts kept them silent. Grace tried to imagine what was in her husband's mind. And then there were her reflections. She hadn't told Conner about her call to the hospital. There could be many explanations, and when she did go to him, she would take only facts.

“There's Linden Boulevard.” Conner pointed and she looked at the directions she held. They turned left, and continued down the potholed street.

When they crossed Merrick Boulevard, she said, “There's the church.” Grace read the last line on the paper: “House will be two blocks down.”

Her heart pounded as the vehicle slowed, and then it seemed to cease beating altogether when Conner stopped the car. They stared at the red brick two-story home. A city-abused burgundy Honda Accord sat in the driveway covered with the same urban dirt as the other cars on the street.

Grace's eyes roamed to the second floor where beige miniblinds covered two white-trimmed windows. The blinds on the right swayed, and Grace leaned forward, straining to see who was behind the window's covering. She jumped when Conner touched her hand.

“Are you okay?” His voice trembled.

She could only nod because her vocal cords felt paralyzed.

Conner opened his door and came around to her side. She kept her hand in his as they approached the house. Her legs wobbled as Conner opened the low iron gate, but she felt steadier when they moved up the cobblestone pathway. Before he could ring the bell, the door opened.

“Come in.”

Grace took a deep breath and stepped inside, keeping her eyes away from Pilar's.

The entryway was small. When Pilar closed the door, the three stood with their shoulders almost touching.

“Come in,” she repeated and they followed her into the living room.

Grace was reminded of 704 Hauser Street. Like Archie Bunker's house, most of the first floor was one large room. Even part of the kitchen could be seen from where she stood.

“Have a seat.” Even though it was ten in the morning, Pilar clicked on a lamp.

They sat on the long brown crushed velvet couch that overwhelmed the room with its size. Pilar sat across from them in a half-moon-shaped green brocade chair.

“I'm glad you're here,” she said to Conner, and then her eyes moved to Grace.

Conner asked, “Have you heard anything from the medical center?”

“No, not yet.” She looked away. “They said in another day or two.”

Grace crossed her legs. “I'm surprised they can get results that quickly.”

Pilar's eyes met hers. “NYCMC is one of the best in the country.”

Silence followed their exchange.

Conner leaned forward, his elbows rested on his legs. “Where's Solomon?”

“In his room.” She motioned toward the stairs behind them. “I told him that some old friends of mine were stopping by.”

Conner nodded.

Grace stared.

“Before we do this,” Pilar started, “I have to make sure. I have to protect my son.”

“Pilar, you're the one who keeps talking about there not being enough time,” Conner said.

“That's true, but I want to know … when the test results show …”

“I will do the right thing.”

Grace inhaled.

“Does that mean you're going to take responsibility?” Pilar asked.

Conner moved to stand, but Grace put her hand on his leg, keeping him in place. “Pilar, this is not a game.”

“No one knows that better than me.”

“What do you think my being here is all about?”

Grace said, “May I say something?” With their silence, she continued. “We shouldn't be talking about this with Solomon upstairs.”

“It's fine. He's on his computer.”

“Still …” Grace looked from Conner to Pilar.

Pilar said, “As I said, I want to be sure.”

“Nothing is sure until the results come back.” Conner stood and took Grace's hand. “Maybe this would be better handled through lawyers.”

“No,” Pilar said calmly, unaffected by Conner's display. “We don't need attorneys. I just wanted to know where you stood.”

“Now you know.”

She pushed herself from the chair. “I'll get Solomon.” It took a moment for her to take the first step, but then she disappeared up the stairs.

Conner filled his cheeks with air, then exhaled.

“Calm down, honey,” Grace said.

“I don't want to play games.”

“This is not a game to her.” Grace was surprised at her defense of Pilar. “She needs assurances because once she brings that boy downstairs, things are going to be different, no matter what.” Her words were a warning. “This is what I was afraid of. Moving too quickly.”

He stared at her. “We're just meeting him. Nothing more.”

With her palm, she caressed his face. He wrapped his arms around her. They were holding each other when the first steps echoed on the stairs. Conner pulled away, but held Grace's hand.

Pilar came first, then the boy, who stood just an inch or two shorter than his mother. The two walked toward Grace and Conner. As they came closer, Grace felt Conner's fingers slip away.

Pilar placed her hands on her son's shoulders. “Solomon, these are my friends. This is Conner Monroe. The man I used to work for.”

The boy smiled and a look of recognition filled his eyes. “I remember you. You were in the park in L.A.”

“Yes, that was me.

He extended his hand. “It's nice to see you again, sir.”

Conner hesitated, then took the boy's hand. “I am so glad to meet you, Solomon.”

Grace raised her hand to her mouth to hide her trembling lips.

Pilar said, “Let's sit down.”

Still holding Solomon's hand, Conner led him to the couch, and Pilar returned to the chair where she'd been sitting. It took a moment for Conner to remember Grace, still standing where he'd left her.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” He turned to the boy. “Solomon, this is my wife, Grace.”

He granted her the same smile that he'd blessed Conner with a moment before.

“It's nice to meet you, Solomon.”

He nodded, and then turned back to Conner.

Grace looked around, and sat in a chair next to Pilar facing Conner and Solomon on the couch. A loud silence engulfed the room for seconds that felt like minutes. It was Solomon who saved them.

“Do you like baseball?”

Conner blinked, then smiled. “Yes, I do.”

“I really like the Mets. My mom takes me to Shea Stadium.”

“I've never been there,” Conner said.

Solomon tilted his head. “Maybe you can go with me one day.”

Grace clasped her shaking hands in her lap. He looked as if he would be a good baseball player—lanky, the way Conner looked as a boy.

“Solomon loves sports.” Pilar picked up a photo album from the table. She moved to the couch, putting Solomon between Conner and her, and opened the book on her son's lap.

Grace watched as the three shared Solomon's pictorial biography. Within minutes, she knew that she'd made a mistake. She should have never allowed this meeting.

“Grace?” Her eyes focused on her husband. “Do you want to come over here?” Conner moved a bit on the couch, making room for her.

She shook her head. He looked at her for a moment longer, then returned to Solomon and Pilar.

Grace glanced around the living room, seeking a reprieve.

“This is Solomon's first softball championship.”

Grace jumped up. “May I use your bathroom?”

“Sure, it's the first door that way.” Pilar pointed, keeping her eyes on the pictures.

Grace waited to see if Conner would look up. He didn't.

She gently closed the bathroom door instead of slamming it the way she wanted to. It took minutes for her breathing to steady. She pushed the commode's cover down and sat, holding her face in her hands. This was not what she expected. The boy looked different from the picture. Today he looked like Conner's son.

Could he be?
She thought of the thickness of his eyebrows and the slight cleft in his chin. What if she were meeting his son for the first time? It was as if her heart was just accepting the possibility.

She took deep breaths, trying to take herself to the place she wanted to be. She heard Devry's words.
You're a good Christian.

She stood, looked in the mirror, straightened her suit, and turned off the light. She plastered a smile on her face, but stopped before she stepped into the living room.

“Where's Conner?”

“Upstairs with Solomon.”

Grace looked toward the stairs.

“You can go up, or … you can stay down here. With me.”

It was a challenge more than an invitation. Grace looked at the stairs, then returned to where she'd been sitting.

“I can tell that you don't think this was a good idea,” Pilar said.

“I would have preferred to wait for the paternity results.”

“That's not necessary. I know how they will turn out.”

Grace folded her arms. “I'm sure you do.”

Pilar's eyes narrowed. “I've always known that Conner was Solomon's father.”

“Tell me, Pilar, why did you want the tests done at the medical center?”

She'd expected to throw Pilar off with her question, but Pilar smiled when she said, “I told you.”

“Tell me again.”

“That's where Solomon was born and where I'm being treated.”

Solomon's giggles interrupted them.

“Pilar, your son is quite the collector.” When Conner looked at Grace, it was as if he just remembered she was there. He left Solomon's side. “Are you okay?”

Grace nodded and forced a smile.

His face relaxed with relief. “I was looking at Solomon's comic books.”

“He's been collecting for three years, and what he has is impressive.” Pilar rolled her hand over Solomon's head. “I'm very proud of him.”

Conner beamed.

Grace watched the exchange, then stood. “We should be going.”

“Oh,” Pilar said. “I thought you'd have lunch.”

“Please stay,” Solomon said.

Conner turned to Grace, and although she saw the desire in his eyes, she couldn't grant his wish. He said, “We have … plans this afternoon,” trying to lighten the tension that tightened the room.

“But I like having you here,” Solomon said. “We don't get a lot of company.” He lowered his eyes. “Especially since Mom …”

Conner said, “We'll try to come back … in a couple of days.”

Solomon turned ready to direct his pleas to Grace. But her stiff smile stopped him. Pilar and Solomon walked Grace and Conner to the door. The loud silence accompanied them, and this time Solomon did not rescue them.

Grace said, “Pilar, thank you for having us.” She looked down at Solomon. “I'm glad I met you, Solomon.”

He smiled, but his eyes continued his plea.

Grace turned away, fearing that if she didn't, she would give the boy what he needed. The noon air saluted her when she opened the door and the breeze cooled the heat that had risen inside the house.

Grace looked back and watched as Conner said, “I hope to see you again soon.”

“
Si
.”

Conner chuckled. “Spanish, huh?”

“He's learning on his computer,” Pilar explained as she put her arm on Solomon's shoulders. “When I told him that Spanish was Cuba's official language, he was determined to learn it.”

Solomon said, “I'd like to visit Cuba someday.”

“Maybe one day you'll make the trip.” Conner looked at Pilar, and his eyes saddened. He wanted to apologize, but her eyes reassured him.