Page 76 of Protecting Silver
“Hey, Dad. Look who we ran into out in the driveway?” They stepped back so the others could see Patch. Everyone looked at him and jumped to their feet. If their expressions were any indication, they were overjoyed to see “Daniel”. It was the oldest woman who made it to him first. She was in the process of reaching up to hug him when she stopped in her tracks, covered her mouth with her fingers and cried out.
“Oh, my.”
“What?” the others asked, and looked between her and Daniel.
“That’s not Daniel.” When the others said it was, she pointed to his face and said firmly. “Daniel does not have a scar at his hairline.” Just then Daniel and Silver walked in via the back porch, and when the adults saw him, they whipped back to stare at Patch in shocked awe.
“Mikey?” Anna was the first one to speak, then with tears streaming down her face, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Patch, her hold almost choking the breath from him, but Patch brought his arms up and hugged his mother for the first time in a very, very long time. It took almost half an hour for everyone to hug him, and welcome him home.
Anna gripped his hand and dragged him over to the table and had him sit in a seat. Once down, she placed her hands on his shoulders, and explained, “This is where you sat in your high chair before you were taken from us. Even after your siblings came along, we never gave up your place at the table. Hoping, praying, and wishing you’d come back one day and fill the void. Welcome home, Mikey.” She kissed the top of his head, then took the seat at the end of the table to Patch’s right. As soon as she settled, she looked over at Silver. “Hello.”
“I’d like to introduce my girlfriend, Silver Roundtree.” Hugs, handshakes, and names were exchanged, and after coffee and pie were distributed, Patch drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“First, I can honestly say that I didn’t fall far from the family tree.” He pointed to Dan, then Douglas. “Looking at the two of you, I know what I’ll look like when I’m older. Second, I’m not saying this next part to hurt any of you, because I still have to wrap my head around everything. Could you please call me Patch? I know my original birth certificate says my name is Michael Douglas Atwater, but my fake birth certificate named me Douglas Michael Atwal. Until I can get it all sorted out legally, to avoid any confusion, please call me Patch.”
“Why Patch?” his grandfather asked.
“When I was in the Marines, I was a medic. There were times when I could only throw a patch over a wound to stop the bleeding and send them back out into combat, or on a helicopter to the nearest medical facility. A lot of guys would come to me and say to ‘patch them up’. My best friend gave me the name Patch.”
“Oh, I can call you that.” Dan nodded and looked around the table. “As I’m sure you do, we all have burning questions to ask you. I only have one right now, then we can take the rest as it flows.”
“What’s that?”
“Were you abused in any way? Did the people who took you from us hurt you?”
“No.” Patch didn’t hesitate in his response. There was that one time that one foster parent hit him twice, but it wasn’t really anything compared to what he knew his grandfather was asking him. “I was never abused. I’m not saying my life was great going in and out of foster homes, but I made do, and I think that’s what made me the man I am today.”
“Good,” Dan said as he nodded. “So, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a doctor. After I graduated high school...” he began and looked around with a grin. “...with honors, I might add. I went to college for three years. I took all pre-med classes. When my student loans began to grow, I put my education on hold and enlisted in the Marines. My best friend I mentioned earlier was already in, and I was shocked as shit to find out I’d been assigned to his unit after boot camp. I spent the next eight years in the military as a medic, because of my schooling experience. During that time, when I had downtime, I took on-line classes. When I left the Marines, I was able to step into a job and only had to do my last year of residency. My military experience was in my favor.”
“What type of doctor?” Anna asked. “What’s your specialty, if you have one?”
“Trauma. I work in the ER, as a trauma doctor, and if anyone needs immediate surgery, I take them to the OR and patch them up.” He grinned at his pun against his name and profession.
“You’re a doctoranda surgeon?” Bruce asked in shock.
“I am.”
“Damn.”
“What about you, Silver?” Beatrice asked. “What do you do?”
“I’m an event coordinator for The Larson Foundation.”
“The one up there in Montana that has all their fundraisers on location?” Ellie asked. When the others turned to look at her, she shrugged. “I was at one a year and a half ago. It was held at the zoo.”
“I was the assistant on that one. It was only this year that I became a coordinator and now do my own fundraisers.” She looked around the table and placed her hand on top of Patch’s. “Douglas’ best friend is in charge of the fundraising part of the foundation. They met when they were twelve.”
“I’m not so sure about that now,” Patch said, and everyone stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought I was four when I went to my first foster home. After working with Daniel and his people during Merrick’s trial, it turned out that I was placed with them only four months after being taken. I must have been smart, and big for my age, because no one questioned my ability to start kindergarten when they thought I was five, but in reality, I wasn’t quite three. I was under the assumption that on my last birthday I turned thirty-seven.”
“No, you turned thirty-five.” That answer set the tone for questions and answers to be bandied about from everyone sitting at the table. For the next few days everyone got to know each other, and for the first time in years, maybe the first time ever, Patch felt as if he could be himself, and not have to put up any barriers to his real self. It was invigorating to feel free like that.
Chapter 35
