“I wouldn't expect anything less of you, Everett,” she said primly, and then beamed. “I've never been proposed to before either, come to think of it.” She felt giddy as she looked at him, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek.
“Can a recovering alcoholic and a nun be happy together? Stay tuned.” He was laughing as he said it, and suddenly out of the blue, he realized that she was still young enough to have babies, maybe even a few of them, if they got started soon. He liked that idea, but didn't mention it to her. She had enough on her mind as it was.
“Thank you, Everett,” she said, as she unlocked the front door, and he whistled to a passing cab that stopped in front of them. “I'll think about it. I promise.”
“Take as long as you want. I'm in no hurry. There's no pressure on you.”
“Let's see what God has to say about all this,” she said, smiling at him.
“Okay. You ask Him. Meanwhile, I'll start lighting candles.” He had loved doing that as a kid.
She waved as she disappeared into the building, and he ran down the steps to the waiting cab. He looked up at the building as they drove away, thinking that this was possibly the best day of his life. He had love, and better yet, he had hope. And best of all, he had Maggie … almost. And for dead-ass sure, she had him.
Chapter 19
The day after Christmas, filled with the energy of seeing Maggie, Everett sat down at his computer, got on the Internet, and started playing. He knew there were sites that did particular searches. He typed in some information, and a questionnaire appeared on his screen. He carefully answered all the questions, although he didn't have much information. Name, birthdate, place of birth, parents’ names, last known address. That was all he had to go on. No current address, Social Security number, or any other type of information. He kept it limited to Montana. If nothing turned up there, he could search other states. He sat quietly at his computer waiting to see what would come back. There was hardly a pause before a name and address were on his screen. It had all been so simple and so quick. After twenty-seven years, there he was. Charles Lewis Carson. Chad. With an address in Butte, Montana. It had taken twenty-seven years to look for him, but now he was ready. There was a phone number and e-mail address too.
He thought about e-mailing and decided not to. He jotted all the information down on a piece of paper, sat thinking about it for a while, walked around his apartment, and then took a deep breath, called the airline, and made a reservation. There was a flight out at four o'clock that afternoon. Everett decided to be on it. He could call him when he got there, or maybe just drive by and see what the house looked like. Chad was thirty years old, and Everett hadn't even seen a photograph in all these years. He and his ex-wife had completely lost contact, after he stopped sending her support checks when Chad turned eighteen, and the only contact between them before that, as Chad grew up, were the checks he sent her every month, and her signature on the back when she endorsed them. They had stopped exchanging letters when Chad was four, and he hadn't had a single photograph since, nor asked for one.
Everett knew nothing about him now, married, single, whether or not he went to college, what he did for a living. He had another thought then and typed in the same questions for Susan, but didn't find her. She might have moved to another state, or gotten remarried. There were a number of reasons why she might not turn up on the screen. All he really wanted to do was see Chad. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to meet him. Everett wanted to take a look and decide once he was there. This had been a hard decision for him, and he knew that both Maggie and his recovery had a lot to do with it. Before both of those factors entered his life, he wouldn't have had the courage to do this. He had to face his own failures in this case, his inability to relate or engage, to even try to be a father. He had been eighteen when Chad was born, a baby himself. Now Chad was older than he had been when his son was born. Everett was twenty-one the last time he saw him, and went off to become a photographer floating around the world, like a soldier of fortune. But no matter how he dressed it up or tried to romanticize it, for all intents and purposes and from Chad's perspective, Everett had abandoned him and disappeared. Everett was ashamed of having done it, and it was entirely possible that Chad hated him. He certainly had a right to. Everett was finally willing to face him now after all these years. Maggie had given him the push he needed.
He was quiet and pensive on the way to the airport, bought a cup of coffee at Starbucks and took it on the plane with him, and then sat staring out the window while he drank it. This was different than the trip he'd taken the day before, when he went to San Francisco to see Maggie. Even if she was angry, or was avoiding him, they had some kind of relationship, all or most of which had been pleasant. He and Chad had nothing, except Everett's total failure to be a father. There was nothing to draw from or build on. There had been no communication and no bridge between them for twenty-seven years. Other than DNA, they were total strangers.
The plane landed in Butte and Everett asked a cabdriver to drive him past the address he had taken off the Internet. It was a small, clean, cheaply built house in a residential district of the city. It wasn't a fancy neighborhood, but it wasn't a slum either. It looked ordinary, mundane, and pleasant. The patch of grass outside was small but neatly tended.
After they'd seen it, Everett asked the driver to take him to the nearest motel. It was a Ramada Inn, and had nothing distinctive about it. He asked for the smallest, cheapest room, bought a soda from a vending machine, and went back to his room. He sat there for a long time, staring at the phone, wanting to dial the number, but too afraid to, and finally he got up the guts to do it. He was feeling like he wanted to go to a meeting. He knew he could do that eventually, but first he wanted to call Chad. He could always share about it later, and probably would.
The phone was answered on the second ring. It was a woman, and for a minute Everett wondered if he had the wrong number. If he did, it could get complicated. Charles Carson wasn't an unusual name, and there could have been many in the phone book.
“Is Mr. Carson in?” Everett asked in a polite, pleasant voice. Everett could feel his voice shake, but the woman didn't know him well enough to hear it.
“I'm sorry, he's out. He should be back in half an hour.” She readily gave out the information. “Should I give him a message?”
“I…no…uh… I'll call back,” Everett said, and hung up before she could ask him any questions. Everett wondered who the girl was. Wife? Sister? Girlfriend?
He lay on the bed then, turned on the TV, and dozed off. It was eight o'clock when he woke up, and stared at the phone again. He rolled over on the bed and dialed the number. A man answered this time in a strong, clear voice.
“Is Charles Carson in, please?” Everett asked the voice on the other end, and waited breathlessly. He had a feeling this was it, and the prospect of it made him feel dizzy. This was much harder than he had expected. And once he identified himself, then what? Chad might not want to see him. Why would he?
“This is Chad Carson,” the voice corrected. “Who is this?” He sounded mildly suspicious. The use of his full name told him that the caller was a stranger.
“I…uh… mmmm …I know this sounds crazy, and I don't know where to start.” He blurted it out then. “My name is Everett Carson. I'm your father.” There was dead silence at the other end of the phone, as the man who'd answered tried to figure out what had just hit him. Everett could easily imagine the kind of things Chad might say to him, “get lost” being by far the nicest of them. “I'm not sure what to say to you, Chad. I guess I'm sorry is the first thing, although it doesn't cover twenty-seven years. I'm not sure anything could. And if you don't want to talk to me, that's okay. You don't owe me a thing, not even conversation.” The silence continued as Everett wondered if he should continue talking, or hang up discreetly. He decided to wait through a few more seconds of silence, before he gave up completely. It had taken him twenty-seven years to reach out to his son and initiate a reunion. Chad had no idea what was going on and was shocked into silence.