Page 35 of Mason Wilder
Another pause. “I don’t think so.” His father handed him the photo . “I’m sorry, Mase. She’s got her own life, and it seems to be all she cares about.”
The blow hit Mason like a slap in the face. He should be relieved, he told himself. He didn’t want a reconciliation with this woman. Although he had a million questions for her, none more pressing than why she left him and why she never returned. “Did she ask about me?”
The tension in his father’s brow distorted the man’s face with a mixture of anger and sorrow. A few beats passed before he met Mason’s eyes. “All this woman ever talks about is herself. I told her about you, though. I told her you were a successful musician. One of the best drummer’s in the world.” The corner of his mouth quirked into a half smile. “Even better than me. She said she was happy for you. And not the least bit surprised. It’s your talent that brought you to me, you know.”
Mason shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know you were my son. You know that part. I hadn’t seen Kendall in years before she showed up with you at her side. You were three or four. Do you remember the first time we met? The first time you played my drums? The big blue drums. That’s what you used to call my old Pearl kit.”
Of course, Mason remembered that kit. He’d never seen drums that big. They were gargantuan. His foot didn’t reach the bass pedal, so he’d kicked the drum skin with the toe of his sneaker. Everyone had been so impressed that he had simulated the sound with his foot. To him, it was the obvious thing to do. He vaguely remembered playing them. He’d been too young to remember details, but the emotion he felt when he played them stayed with him. Just like he didn’t really remember Kendall. He remembered missing her and wondering when she was coming back to visit, but he didn’t rememberher.
“You were probably too young to remember the day I first met you,” his dad said. “Immortal Angel had just made it big and we played a local gig. She showed up with you later that night. You took one look at my drum kit and your mouth gaped open.” His dad smiled at the memory. “You were mesmerized. And when you played, that’s when I knew you were my kid.” His dad ran a hand over his jaw. “I don’t think I ever told you this, but Kendall thought another guy was your father.”
“Who?”
“Just some guy from The Quadrangle. It’s not important.”
“Did he take a paternity test? Is that how he found out he wasn’t my father?”
“No. I don’t think so. Apparently, Aunt Mary bought you a little drum set on a whim. The moment you started playing, Kendall knew I was your dad. A DNA test proved it, but that was just a formality.” He placed his arm around Mason’s neck and drew him in for a hug. “We have Aunt Mary to thank for bringing us together.”
The shake in his father’s voice made him tear up. Not only had Aunt Mary taken care of him when he was a baby, she was responsible for reuniting him with his dad. If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have grown up in this enormous circle of love and support.He wiped a tear from his eye, and saw that his father did the same.
