She paused, her voice trembling. “It wasn’t until Eliot was two that I realized you must be his real father. Kenneth became aware of it too. It wasn’t just that they looked nothing alike, but they never formed a bond either. That’s when things really changed between us. He…,” she struggled to speak the words, “began to be cruel to Eliot. At first, the attacks were all verbal, usually occurring after Kenneth had been out drinking with his law partners. But one day…”
James tore his eyes away from the little boy and looked at Jane in horror. “He didn’t!” His fists clenched in wrath. “He couldn’t have!”
Swallowing hard, Jane continued. “Kenneth slapped him for spilling a glass of red wine. It was a simple accident. Eliot has always been a polite and well-behaved child. Always kind and sympathetic and affectionate.” Jane’s face twisted in anguish. “Kenneth said that Eliot had done it on purpose and smacked him so hard across the face that I thought Eliot lost all his baby teeth then and there. That’s what it took for me to wake up. Eliot paid the price for my insecurity and stupidity, but he’ll never suffer because of me again.” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “We moved out that night when Kenneth went out for drinks with the guys. Since we weren’t married and had separate bank accounts, it was a quick and final break. And we’ve never looked back. Eliot doesn’t even remember Kenneth.”
As though fearing the boy might disappear if he looked away from him for too long, James returned his focus to his son. He couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of the sweet face, the small hands, the relaxed limbs, the curious eyes darting over the images in the book.
“My son,” he whispered again. His heartbeat had slowed, but he couldn’t wipe the jubilant grin from his face. Grabbing Jane’s hand in both of his, he kissed her palm several times, quickly. “Thank you, Jane. Thank you! You may have made mistakes, but you have made me the happiest man in the world! You brought me…,” he stared at his son again, “the greatest gift. A miracle.”
Fresh tears fell onto her cheeks. “I hoped and prayed you’d feel this way,” she sniffed. “But I never doubted that you’d want to know or that you’d want to be a part of his life.”
James stood up, pulling Jane close to him. He stared deeply into her eyes. “Of course I want to be a part of his life. I’ve already missed too many years, too many moments!” He knew he had a right to feel rage or scorn toward Jane for the poor decisions she’d made, but nothing could eclipse the pure measure of joy flooding his heart. There was no room for any emotion other than absolute bliss. “Where do I start?” His question came out as a plea. “How do I become his dad?”
“Let’s start off with introductions.” Jane’s smile was blinding.
The parents knelt down in front of the little boy. Jane held on to one of the small hands. “Eliot. Remember I told you that you were going to meet your daddy today? Well, here he is. This is James Henry, but you can call him Daddy.”
The boy studied James for a moment. “Do you like books?” he inquired seriously.
“Oh, yes!” James declared, thrilling in the sound of his son’s high, slightly slurred voice. “That’s why I work here. I love books.”
“Cool.” Eliot glanced around the room appreciatively. “Can I come here again?” He directed his question at James.
“As often as you like,” he responded warmly. “Whenever your mom can bring you, you can come here. We can read lots of stories together.”
Without any indication that he was about to do so, the boy stood up, handed his mother his book on zoo animals, and gave James a brief hug. “Okay! See you tomorrow, Daddy!” Eliot said in an exaggerated whisper, and then giggled as his scarf dropped onto the floor.
James drank in his son’s aroma of chocolate milk, apple-scented shampoo, and dirt. It was the most beautiful perfume he had ever inhaled. With the greatest effort, he pivoted away from Eliot and gripped Jane’s arm harshly. “Don’t leave! I don’t even know where you live! I can’t lose him again!”
Nodding in comprehension, she pried his desperate fingers off her arm and retrieved a sheet of paper from her purse. “Here’s our address, phone number, and my contact numbers at work.” She pointed at the paper. “This is where Eliot goes to preschool. I put you down as an emergency contact, just so you know. Now, I’ve got to give a lecture tonight, so we’ve got to get going, but I’d love to bring him back here tomorrow if you’re free. Maybe we could all have pizza.”
“Pizza. Yes.” Feeling less anxious, James clung to the contact information.
Jane then handed him a photo album with a blue leather cover. “I made you a scrapbook too. I thought it might help you make it through the next twenty-four hours. But he’s not far away, James, and when we get together tomorrow, we can talk about setting up a schedule. Eliot’s as much yours as he is mine, and I’ll never keep you apart again. That’s a promise.”
Jane laid the book on a nearby table and took Eliot’s hand, and the pair waved goodbye and headed out the door to the parking lot. Starting, James raced to his office window and watched Jane buckle Eliot into a booster seat in the back of a Volvo station wagon.
“That’s my son,” James said, his voice filled with awe. “ My son, Eliot. My son.” He repeated the joyful mantra over and over again, long after the Volvo was out of sight. He wasn’t even aware that he was crying.
FIFTEEN
James didn’t remember driving to the Realtor’s office. It seemed in one moment he was in the library, and then he blinked and found himself seated at Joan’s conference table with a pen in his hand and a glass of water by his elbow. She prattled on and on, pointing to the highlighted sections of the thick stacks of legal-sized paper so that he’d apply his signature to dozens of pages of unfathomable documents.
Though James followed her directions, Joan’s voice failed to penetrate his bubble of happiness. It was as though he was listening to her talk underwater. Occasionally, phrases like “inspection” or “home warranty” or “escrow account” would make their way into his psyche, but it wasn’t until Joan pointed at a line in the contract and mentioned “removal of adhesive stars,” that he finally paid attention.
“Can you repeat that, please?” he asked her.
She smirked. “I thought you’d fallen into a coma! It’s pretty normal for first-time home buyers to feel overwhelmed by all of these terms. Why don’t we take a break and eat supper. It’ll give you a chance to ask me any questions you might have.”
James noticed the cardboard takeout containers from the Dim Sum Kitchen. His stomach gurgled in anticipation. “When did this arrive?”
“You really were in a trance!” Joan laughed. “My assistant brought our dinner in while I was reviewing the guarantee of title insurance.” Noting the blank look on her client’s face, she handed James three containers. “I took the liberty of ordering you the healthiest things I could from the menu. I remembered some mention of you seeing a nutritionist, and I didn’t want to get you in trouble by ordering General Tso’s chicken.” James searched her face for an indication of mockery, but Joan seemed sincere. “Here’s your miso soup, steamed rice, and beef and broccoli. Enjoy!”
“This is really nice of you,” James said gratefully as he popped off lids and pulled open white cartons, allowing steam to burst out of the apertures.
She waved aside his thanks. “I owe you one. Not only did I get a commission from the sale of the Hickory Hill Lane house, but I got a delightful finder’s fee for placing your friend in a Mountain Valley Woods apartment.”