The Father for Her Son Read online

  “So you and his mother are close?”

  “She’s still mad at me for being stupid. She lets me see the boy, but she won’t let me tell him I’m his father.” He hadn’t meant to share this last bit of information, but it felt good to confide in someone.

  Bernie shook his head. “That’s rough.”

  “Yeah, well, we’re working on it.” He took another drink of Coke.

  “What if she never tells him the truth?”

  “She will.” He wouldn’t agree to lie much longer. He wouldn’t add to his sins by letting Greg think his father couldn’t be trusted. His voice grew rough. “I love him.”

  “So you and his mother stayed in touch while you were in prison. How come you never mentioned her before?”

  “I looked her up after I got out. It’s a long story.”

  “I’m in no hurry.”

  Had Bernie become Troy’s therapist as well as his parole officer? Or was this part of the state’s efforts to reduce recidivism? In any case, Troy wasn’t about to reveal he was carrying a torch for a woman who’d returned every letter he’d sent her. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

  “At least tell me who she is.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s my job to know who you’re associating with.”

  One more reminder his life was still not his own. “Her name’s Marlee. Marlee Britton. She’s Frank’s daughter.”

  Bernie’s eyebrows rose, the only sign that this revelation shocked him. “Be careful there,” he said. “Frank has powerful friends. They could make trouble for you if you upset his daughter.”

  Troy didn’t think it was possible to upset Marlee more than he already had. “It’ll be all right,” he said.

  “If Frank hassles you in any way, let me know. Don’t try to handle it yourself.”

  “Right.” As if he’d run to Bernie for help. “I’ll stay out of trouble,” he said. “I won’t do anything that might land me back inside.”

  “You do that.” Bernie took his hands out of his pocket. “I guess I’d better head on home.”

  “Good night.” Troy didn’t bother seeing him to the door.

  When Bernie was gone, Troy sank into the recliner and switched on the radio. The energetic voice of an announcer for the Houston Astros filled the room and he settled back to listen. He closed his eyes, and thought of another late spring night, when he’d lucked into tickets for a baseball game. He and Marlee had huddled in the nosebleed seats at the stadium, sharing a bag of peanuts and cheering home runs and double plays. They hadn’t worried about the future, seeing the whole world colored rosy by their love.

  Neither of them would ever be that naive again. But Troy prayed that some of those feelings might return. Their love had been the strongest and truest thing he’d ever known. He couldn’t let himself believe even seven years apart was enough to kill it.

  But what if Marlee never loved him again? Bernie’s visit tonight had reminded Troy that he wasn’t in control of anything. He could promise to live a good life, and to look after Greg and Marlee the way he should have all along—but if Marlee didn’t believe him—or worse, if she no longer wanted the home and family they’d dreamed of before—then he was as helpless as if he’d never got out of jail.

  “MARLEE, THERE’S A Troy Denton for you on line one.”

  Marlee started at the sound of Troy’s name over the intercom. She kept her personal life strictly separate from her job. At work, she was a calm, organized professional; she didn’t talk about herself much, and no one knew much about her history. To have part of that past intrude on this world was unsettling. She snatched up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hi. Listen, I’m just a couple of blocks away and it’s almost noon, so I thought I might stop by and take you to lunch.” He spoke the words in a rush, then lapsed into silence.

  She gripped the receiver tighter, fighting a nervous flutter in her stomach. Troy’s request was innocent enough, but she didn’t want him here. This was the area of her life where she felt most in control, and Troy made her doubt herself too much. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said.

  “We need some time to talk without the chance that Greg will interrupt,” he said.

  “Talk about what?”

  “Things. I’ll pick you up in a few minutes.” Click.

  Marlee stared at the phone in her hand. He’d hung up on her.

  “Is everything all right?” Mr. Morgenroth asked.

  Is it? Marlee wondered. “Oh. Sure. That was a…uh, a friend. He’s picking me up for lunch.”

  Mr. Morgenroth nodded and turned his attention back to his computer. “It’s a nice day for it.”

  She grabbed her purse and hurried to the ladies’ room to comb her hair and fix her makeup. As she searched in her bag for a comb, she was annoyed to discover her hands were trembling. Snap out of it! she silently scolded herself. Whatever Troy has to say to you, you’re still in charge of your life and of Greg’s. Maybe it was time they had a serious discussion about just what she expected from Troy in the future. So far he’d proved a good friend to Greg, and Marlee saw no sign that he intended to break the law again. But it was early days yet. She was right to be cautious.

  She hurried from the bathroom, down the hall to the lobby. A woman’s laughter, followed by the low rumble of a familiar male voice, drifted to her as she entered. Troy glanced up and smiled as she walked toward him. Marlee’s heart stuttered. No matter how often she saw him, she couldn’t get used to her physical reaction to him. Yes, he was good-looking, but the world was full of handsome men, and none of them made her feel this way.

  He’d obviously succeeded in charming Trish. The clerk beamed at him, then at Marlee. “Troy was telling us about motorcycles,” she said.

  Marlee hadn’t noticed Mr. Morgenroth. He stood on the other side of Troy, seemingly at ease with the man he had escorted from the hotel only the week before. “What do you know about the Gold Wing?” Mr. M. asked. “Is that a good choice for cross-country trips? Or would a Valkyrie be better?”

  Troy rubbed his jaw, considering the question. “Well, now, either one would work as a touring bike, but for comfort, I prefer the Gold Wing.”

  “I’ve been doing some research, but I haven’t had a chance to look at one close up,” Mr. Morgenroth said.

  Troy took a card from his wallet and handed it to the older man. “Come by the shop anytime. We specialize in custom bikes—sales and repairs. We’ll fix you up, let you take a test ride.”

  “Mr. Morgenroth, I didn’t know you were interested in motorcycles,” Marlee said, unable to hide her surprise.

  His face reddened. “Alice and I have been thinking about getting a bike for a while now, for taking out on weekends. They’re very economical, you know.”

  She couldn’t picture pudgy Mr. M. and his silver-haired wife straddling a chrome-and-leather monster.

  “Your friend Troy here has given me a lot of helpful information,” Mr. Morgenroth said, pocketing the business card.

  So now Troy was her friend, when only last week his rough appearance had worried Mr. Morgenroth. What had changed? She studied the two men as they continued to talk. Was Mr. Morgenroth more accepting because Marlee was obviously comfortable enough to accompany Troy to lunch? Or did he give off a more easygoing vibe, less brittle and defensive than he’d been that first day?

  “It was nice talking to you,” Troy said. “Are you ready, Marlee?”

  She nodded, and started toward the door. Troy moved ahead, and held it open for her. “I thought we’d walk over to the park and grab a hot dog from a cart, if that’s okay,” he said as they stepped into the bright sunshine. The heat was refreshing after the artificial chill of the air-conditioned hotel.

  “That’s fine.”

  They walked in silence to the corner. Marlee could feel his eyes on her as they waited for the light to change. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked, unable to bear the tension anymore.

&n
bsp; “Let’s wait until we get our food.” The light turned green and they crossed. They stopped at a hot dog vendor parked beneath a spreading live oak. “One with everything,” she ordered.

  “Make that two.” Troy stepped up behind her. If she leaned back just a little, she’d be able to rest her head against him, feel his arms encircle her. How odd that after so many years apart, his closeness still felt familiar. Almost natural.

  She opened her purse, but before she could pull out her money, Troy had paid for the hot dogs and two soft drinks. Knowing it was useless to argue, she followed him to a shady spot beside a fountain.

  At this hour, most of the picnic tables and benches were filled with workers from the nearby offices. Men shed their suit coats and women rolled up their sleeves in the warm spring sun. Mothers pushed strollers along the hike-and-bike trail beneath clouds of flowering pear trees, and students from the nearby University of Texas stretched out on the grass to study or nap.

  But the peacefulness of the scene couldn’t ease Marlee’s worry over why Troy had asked for this meeting. “Tell me why it was so important we talk alone,” she said when they were both seated at an empty picnic table in the shade of a massive oak.

  “I think it’s time to tell Greg the truth—that I’m his father.”

  “No!”

  “Why not? He knows me now. He trusts me.”

  “He’s not ready.” She wasn’t ready. Revealing that Troy was Greg’s father would mean giving up being the only person Greg looked to for direction, guidance and support. Right now, Troy was just her son’s friend. As a father, he’d have a much bigger role in both their lives. Could she really depend on him to be the kind of father her son deserved?

  “He deserves to know the truth,” Troy said. “It’s going to be hard enough explaining why I wasn’t around for the first six years of his life. It’ll just get harder the longer we put it off.”

  “It’s too soon. And he’s so young—he won’t understand.”

  “He won’t understand that I’m his father? Or about why I went to prison? Or maybe he won’t understand why we lied? He’ll blame you, too, you know.”

  The thought of Greg turning on her was unbearable. There had to be a way to handle this situation that protected her son—and Marlee’s relationship with him. “We’ll tell him,” she said. “But we need to take things slowly. We should talk about what role you’ll have in his life.”

  “I’m his father. It’s not a part in a play.”

  Marlee set aside her hot dog, uneaten. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be, Troy,” she said. “If we had a more conventional relationship—if we were divorced, for instance—there’d be a court agreement to lay out visitation, parental rights and things like that. We need to discuss those issues.”

  “What’s wrong with how we’ve been doing it? I’ll see him whenever I can. And I’ll pay you support to cover what he needs.”

  “I’d be more comfortable if we had a formal agreement,” she said. “I want to know how we’re going to share his time, have an idea of what our future looks like—and what you want from me.”

  “Then let’s hire lawyers and make a formal agreement,” he said. “I want what I’ve always wanted—for us to be a family. You, me and our son, living in a nice house in a good neighborhood, with money in a savings account for Greg’s college, and vacations and barbecues on summer weekends.”

  The boldness of this statement, and the emotion behind the words, shook her. This was the dream they’d talked about when they’d first discovered she was pregnant. Well, she’d talked about it. In those days, Troy hadn’t planned much. He talked about the future in vague terms. They would “see how things worked out” and “go with the flow.”

  Now he was repeating her dream back to her; obviously, he’d been listening to her after all. After Troy had been arrested, she’d vowed to give her son that life anyway, though Troy had no place in her new vision of the future. “You’re talking about a dream I had in the past,” she said. “That’s not the future I want now.”

  “It’s not the future you want—or not the future you think you can have?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I mean—is it the dream that’s wrong or is it me? What happens if you take me out of the picture? If you fell in love with some other man, wouldn’t you want to get married, maybe even have more children?”

  “I…I’ve been too busy to think about that.” She’d been numb for so long. She’d poured all her energy and devotion into caring for Greg. The two of them were a family; she’d told herself she didn’t need anyone else to be happy.

  “When you wouldn’t answer my letters, after a while I imagined you’d moved on. I didn’t like the idea, but I knew a beautiful woman like you would have no trouble finding another man.”

  She said nothing. The last thing she’d wanted after what he’d put her through was a man. Men had brought her nothing but heartache.

  “Maybe I’ve missed something,” Troy continued “Are you dating someone now and I just haven’t seen him? Did you recently break up with someone?”

  “There isn’t anyone and you know it. There hasn’t been anyone.” She met his gaze with a steady look of her own.

  “Why is that—because you still had feelings for me, or because of how badly I hurt you?”

  He was too close to the truth for her to risk acknowledging his question. Yes, he had hurt her, and yes, maybe deep down she did have some lingering feelings for him. She had happy memories of their time together as well as bad, and he had given her a son she cherished. But memories and affection for her child didn’t mean she loved him, or that she would stake her future on him.

  “I gave you an honest answer when I told you what I wanted from you,” Troy said. “What do you want from me?”

  “I don’t want anything from you,” she said. “I was doing just fine without you. I have a steady job and I’m saving money for a better house and for Greg’s college. He’s healthy and doing well in school. We have a good life.”

  “It sounds like a lonely one to me.”

  “I’m through with relying on someone else for my happiness.”

  He touched her hand, the slightest brush of his fingers across her knuckles. “Then I’m sorry for anything I did to make you feel that way.”

  The sweetness of the gesture and the words moved her, and she had to swallow past a sudden tightness in her throat. “We got off subject,” she said. “We were talking about what’s best for Greg.”

  “What’s best is for us to tell him I’m his father.”

  “He’s not ready,” she repeated.

  “Then how are you going to get him ready?”

  “We’ll—You’ll become a bigger part of his life. See him more often. Really get to know him. Then, when you seem like one of the family, we’ll tell him you are family.”

  “I’m all for seeing him more often. We can start this weekend.”

  “This weekend is our company picnic.”

  “I’ll come with you. I assume you’re allowed to bring guests.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I don’t like people at work knowing about my personal life.”

  “Why not? They seem like nice people.”

  “I just…I like my privacy.” The less people knew, the less they could use to judge her or to gossip about her, especially if things ever went wrong. Maybe this was the most lasting lesson her father had taught her—that it wasn’t safe to reveal details about yourself to people, because the information might one day be used against you.

  “They already know about me,” Troy said. His tone lightened, his expression encouraging. “Maybe this is a way for you to get used to the idea that I’m going to be around for a long time.”

  She was tired of arguing with him; maybe she could give in on this one point. “All right. It’s Saturday, in Zilker Park.”

  “I promise I’ll make a
good impression.”

  “You already impressed Trish and Mr. Morgenroth. What did you say to them before I got there?”

  Troy took a bite of his hot dog and washed it down with a drink of soda before answering. “I wasn’t in the lobby two seconds before your boss came out of his office and started peppering me with questions.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “Oh, the usual—where did I work? How long had I known you? He didn’t exactly ask me if my intentions were honorable, but I could tell he wanted to. He obviously thinks a lot of you.”

  She smiled. “Mr. Morgenroth watches out for all of us.”

  “I got the impression you were special to him, though.”

  “I think he felt sorry for me when I first applied for a job after Greg was born. A lot of other places wouldn’t even consider me because I was so young, and a single mother. Mr. Morgenroth gave me a chance to prove myself. I always felt he really wanted me to succeed.”

  “I’m glad you had someone to look out for you.”

  “It felt good to be able to take care of myself.” For all the pain that Troy’s arrest caused, it had also taught her that she was strong enough to survive on her own.

  Troy finished his hot dog and tossed the wrapper in the trash. “Are you going to eat?” he asked.

  She shook her head and threw her hot dog in the trash after his wrapper. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Then let’s walk.”

  They set off on a path across the park. Two women in purple sports bras and wind shorts jogged toward them. A trio of businessmen eating lunch nearby paused their conversation to ogle the pair. Marlee glanced at Troy, to see if he was doing the same. But his eyes were fixed on her. She still couldn’t believe he’d admitted he wanted them to be a couple—a family? He wasn’t saying he loved her, was he? Not after all this time. She hadn’t answered his letters so she could try to forget about him—and she’d assumed he’d eventually done the same.