Page 64 of 2nd Strike
I clasp him on the shoulder and squeeze. "I won't quit until I find them. That's a promise."
I leave them to wait for Carl and Lily and go to my place to follow up on George’s results.
28
Meg
I’m sitting at my kitchen table checking emails on my tablet when my doorbell rings.
This might be it.
My stomach flips and I set my hand there like that would help.Dream on.
The boys are on the living room sofa watching a movie on the Sci-Fi channel and to make sure one of them doesn’t get antsy and try to beat me to the door, I hustle in.
Jon is on his feet. I point at him. “Don’t even think about it.”
For all we know, it could be a rogue reporter.
I check the security app on my phone and see Carl on my tiny porch.
It’s happening. Right now.
I take a deep breath and shoot my sister a text. She’d already made it clear she’s staying away while I moderate the reunion. An hour ago I was fine with it. Now? My pulse is kicking so hard I might fall over.
As I open the door a burst of voices sounds from across the street. The cops are doing a fine job keeping the dozen reporters off our property, but we don’t own the sidewalk and can’t kick them out.
I quickly wave Carl in, limiting the amount of photos and video.
By the time I get the door closed, the television has been muted and a heavy silence descends. Ethan and Jon are on their feet, frozen and staring at Carl. Ethan’s gaze flicks to me and for the first time, I sense a bit of frenzied panic.
This poor kid has been through so much. I can’t believe it’s taken him this long to lose his cool.
I move past Carl, heading straight for the boys. “Carl, come in.” I set one hand on Jon’s arm. “Jon, this is…” Lord, what am I supposed to say?This is your father? Carl? Your sperm donor?
Kill me. Please.
I look at Carl, the man who’s been in front of a camera his whole career. If he’s nervous, I don’t see it. Something I’m insanely grateful for on behalf of my young friends beside me.
Carl nods and steps forward, hand extended. “I’m…Carl. From what I hear, I’m your biological father.”
Hardly a Hallmark moment, but, well, it is what it is.
The handshake is quick and all business and, as someone who’s known—and loved—her biological father, I wonder what this must feel like to not just Jon and Carl, but to Ethan. He’s watching the man he’s known as Dad, meet his true son.
Jon slides his hand from Carl’s but keeps his gaze steady on the man he so strongly resembles.
But Carl’s attention has moved to Ethan. “Hello, son. I’ve missed you.”
God, whatever mistakes this man has made, at this moment I can’t remember a single one. He’s put his own emotions aside and made it all about these boys.
I hold my hands out.“Let’s all have a seat. How about something to drink?”Or maybe a pot brownie?“I have lemonade.”
Carl nods. “That sounds good.”
I head into the kitchen and put a tray together with cookies. My inventory is dismally limited, but I do enjoy my sweets and always have butter cookies on hand.
By the time I return, the boys are giving Carl a full update on the day’s events, all of them talking like old friends.
