Page 67 of Kiss Me Forever

"She didn't come back, did she?" Andrea asked, worry in her eyes.

"No, she never came back. The priest turned me over to Child Protective Services. They put me in foster care while they looked for my mother. They couldn't find her for months. She'd gotten on a plane and flown to Asia with her boyfriend's band. It was nine months before she was back in the states and by then she was in really bad shape. Her addictions had gotten worse. Her boyfriend was gone, and she was homeless. She came to see me, and she promised she'd go into rehab, and she did. I was hopeful she'd get better and she'd come back and get me. But she left rehab after two weeks and disappeared again. For the next several years I bounced around foster homes, and tried to survive while my mother periodically went in and out of rehab. At some point her parental rights were terminated, but it didn't matter to me. She was as good as dead to me."

"So when you spoke of her, you just killed her off," Andrea said.

"Her dying in a car accident was a much kinder version of the story," he said harshly.

"I agree. What about your father? Why didn't he come back and get you? And why couldn't my investigator find any trace of him?"

"He was killed in a car accident six months after he left us. He was living in Canada at the time, which is probably why your investigator couldn't trace him. If he'd never left us for that woman, maybe he'd be alive today. And that part of my car accident story was true."

"What about aunts, uncles, grandparents? Wasn't there anyone who could take you out of the system?"

"My grandparents came to see me once after my mother disappeared, but they said they couldn't take me in. I was better off in foster care. My grandmother gave me a St. Christopher medal and told me it would protect me. Some kid ripped it off my neck a few months later."

"This is a horrible story," Andrea murmured.

"You wanted to hear it," he reminded her. "As I got older, I got into trouble. I was angry at the world, and I hated the people I had to live with. When I was sixteen, I met Mick at the gym. He helped me redirect my anger, and he introduced me to a woman named Suzanne. She'd lost her daughter to a childhood cancer, and she had an empty room in her house. She also had a big heart. She took me in, and my life changed. It was the first time anyone had ever really cared about me. I called her my aunt, because it made life simpler. Unfortunately, she died less than two years later, and I was on my own again. The rest—you know." He blew out a breath, feeling a little relieved to have all his cards on the table—or almost all.

"I understand now why you didn't want to meet your mother," Andrea said slowly. "If I'd know what she'd done to you, I might have shoved her off the pier."

He appreciated the anger in Andrea's eyes and her desire to get him some justice. "I wouldn't have minded that."

"I have to say though, the woman I met earlier today looked very well-off though, not like an addict or a homeless person. She had a large diamond ring on her hand. Her circumstances obviously changed at some point."

"They did. Last year my mother showed up at my office one day and told me she'd changed her life. To say I was shocked to see her would be an understatement. It had been more than a decade since we'd been in the same room."

"I can't even imagine."

"My first thought was that she'd read about me and wanted money. I was going to kick her out, but she pleaded with me to listen to her. She said she'd met a man who had changed her life. She'd married him, and she'd been clean for eight years. She also had two little girls, my half-sisters, and she wanted them to meet me. She didn't want money; she wanted to reunite her family. She wanted me back in her life."

Andrea stared back at him. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her to get out. It was too late to make up for anything. When she told me she wasn't going to leave until I heard her whole story, I walked out on her."

"And you haven't seen her since then?"

"No. I haven't seen her, but she wrote to me, called my office, left dozens of messages, each one telling me more about her daughters. She'd tell me about the Halloween parade at their school or the Christmas pageant, giving me dates and times in case I wanted to come. I never thought I would go, but one day I found myself standing outside an elementary school watching a bunch of kids parade down a sidewalk. I saw two little dark-haired girls run to my mother and give her a hug. There was a lot of love between them," he said, the reminder bringing another wave of pain. "It was strange to see her being a mother to another child, to two other children. I don't think she ever came to my school."

"She obviously changed after she got clean. Did you talk to your sisters?"

"No, I got in my car and drove away. But the calls from my mother kept coming. A week ago she started texting me on my cell phone. I didn't know how she got the number. I was going to change it, but I hadn't gotten around to it yet"

"Maybe subconsciously you didn't want to cut the last tie between you," Andrea suggested.

"I don't know why I wouldn't. You heard the story. She was a horrible mother. She threw me away, Andrea. Why would I want her back in my life?"

Andrea gave him a compassionate smile. "Because she's your mother." She gave him a speculative look. "The pink bedroom is for your sisters, isn't it?"

He nodded. "It was an impulsive decision. They've never met me, never been in this house, and I doubt they ever will."

"Why can't they come over? Why can't you meet them? They're your sisters, and they're not responsible for what your mother did."

"No, they're not responsible. They're beautiful, innocent little girls who adore their mother and their father. Zoe and Claire are the reason my past can't be made public. If I tell the world what my mother did, they'll eventually hear the story. They'll have to grow up wondering if their mother might abandon them." He paused. "And even if they're too young to understand it now, they could be impacted by what happens when my mother's husband finds out what kind of woman he married."

"Are you sure he doesn't know?"

"No, but I seriously doubt she would tell him everything. At any rate, I don't want to take that risk. I don't want Zoe and Claire to grow up without a father or with a mother suddenly being sent into another downward spiral when her husband takes off. I can't destroy their childhood. I can't put them through what I lived through. Can you understand that?" he asked forcefully. "It's not my mother I want to protect. It's not my reputation—I don't give a damn about that. This is about my sisters. They're children. It's up to me to protect them. I want them to have the happy childhood I didn't have. When they're older, they can know everything, but not now. Not from me. And most importantly, not from you."

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