On some level Jack knew he frightened Nathan and that he should let go. He should calm down, but he couldn't.
Thoughts raced through his head until it felt like something was squeezing his brain. "Son of a bitch."
Billy grabbed a hold of Jack's shoulder and stepped between him and Nathan. "What's the matter with you?
Have you lost your mind?"
Yes. He'd lost his mind. He let go and Nathan took off so fast, it was like he'd never been there. Except that hisskateboard was still on the floor. Nurse - side up.
Jack stared after him. "Didn't you see it, Billy?"
"All I see is you acting crazy."
He shook his head and turned to his brother. "He looks like dad."
"Who?"
"Nathan. Daisy's son."
"Daisy and Steven's son."
Jack pointed to the empty doorway. "Did he look like Steven to you?"
"I don't really remember what Steven looked like, to tell you the truth."
"Not like our dad." He set the mug on his desk. He had a son. No. Impossible. He'd always used contraceptives.
But not always with Daisy. They'd been young and stupid and still believed nothing bad would ever affect them.
"She was pregnant when she left and she didn't tell me."
Billy put his hands up. "Wait, I never even knew the two of you were involved back then. And even if youwere, how do you know he's your kid?"
"You're not listening to me." He scrubbed his face with his hands. "There's a picture. A picture of dad when hegraduated high school. He looks just like that kid." He dropped his hand to his sides. "That's why she's here," hespoke his thoughts out loud as if they made better sense that way, when in reality, they made no sense at all. "Totell me about him"
"This is crazy. He's fifteen."
Yes. It was crazy. Crazy as hell to think he had a fifteen-year-old son. A son he'd never known about becausehe'd never been told. "I'm right, Billy."
Billy stepped in front of him and looked him in the eye. "You better make damn sure you're right before you gograbbing that kid and scaring him again. You don't know for sure he's yours, but even if he is, he might notknow it."
Billy was right. "I didn't mean to scare him."
Movement beyond Billy caught Jack's attention and he looked through the open doorway at Penny.
He pushed by his brother and said on his way past the secretary, "I'm going out for a while."
He walked out the back of the garage, across the driveway, to his house. He went straight to a spare room thatused to belong to Billy and he opened the closet crammed with boxes. He pulled out one after the other anddumped them on the floor. Old trophies and magazines, keepsakes from his and Billy's childhood that theirmother had carefully packed away, fell everywhere.
"What are we looking for?" Billy asked as he picked up a box.
Jack hadn't even realized Billy had followed. "Mom and Dad's old wedding album. The picture is in theirwedding album."
They found the album in the fifth box they opened. The outside was covered in lace and silk flowers, the girlystuff his mother had favored. The lace had yellowed, the flowers flattened; Jack flipped it open. Inside, thepages had lost their slickness and the photographs behind the loose cellophane slid together. The picture Jacksearched for fell at his feet, and he knelt to pick up the black-and-white photo of his father at the age ofseventeen. In one corner of the picture, his father had written in faded black ink, To my favorite girl Carolee,Love Ray.
Jack stood and stared at the photo. He hadn't imagined it. Give his father hedgehog hair and a lip ring, and he'dlook a hell of a lot like Nathan Monroe. Only he wasn't Nathan Monroe. He was a Parrish.
Billy came to stand behind Jack and he looked over his shoulder. His low whistle sounded louder than usual inthe empty room. "Do you think Steven knew?" Jack shrugged. She'd been three months pregnant at some point Steven had to have known. He walked out of the bedroom and down the hail into the kitchen. He opened a cabinet and pulled Steven's letter from where he'd place it Saturday. With the photograph of his father still in one hand, he tore open the envelope and read: "Jack, Please excuse my handwriting and misspellings As my illness progresses it gets more difficult for me toconcentrate. It is my hope that you never see this letter That I beat this disease and tell you these things inperson once I am well again. If not, I want to write down my thoughts before I am unable.
Let me begin by saying simply that I have missed you, Jack. I don't know if you have missed me orforgiven me but I have missed my buddy. There have been many times in the past fifteen years when I havewanted to call and talk to you. Many times I have laughed by myself thinking of the things we used to do. Theother day I saw two boys riding their bikes in the rain and I remembered the many times we used to ride ourbikes in real toad-stranglers Riding around Lovette, finding the deepest puddles to ride through. Or the timessitting on my mother's sofa, watching the old Andy Griffith shows, and laughing our asses off when Barneylocked himself in jail. I think that is when I miss you the most when I laugh alone. And I know it is my fault.
There have been many times I have felt the loneliness of losing you, my friendI have never forgotten the last time we saw each other and the horrible things we said. I married Daisy, and youloved her. But I loved her too, Jack I still do. After all these years I love her as much as the day I married her. Iknow she loves me. I know she has always loved me and yet some times she gets a very far away look in hereyes, and I wonder if she is thinking about you. I wonder if she is thinking that she is sorry she chose to comewith me to Seattle. I wonder if she thinks what her life might have been like with you, and I wonder if she stillloves you like she did. If is any consolation, then know that I have suffered a bit hell because I know how muchshe loved you once and perhaps still does.
The night we left Lovette, Daisy was three months pregnant with your child. She's no doubt told you all ofthis by now when she came to me and told me she was carrying your baby, she was very afraid and believedthat you didn't love her any longer. I let her believe it even though I knew it probably wasn't true. She believednot telling you about the baby was for the best. She didn't think you could handle the pressure of having a childat that time in your life. I let her believe that too. I told her that she was right, that you couldn't, but I knew itwasn't true. I knew you could do anything you set your mind to doing. So I married her and took her away fromyou. I know that I should regret what I did, but I can't. I don't regret one day that I spent with her and Nathan.
But I do regret the way in which things were done and not telling you about Nathan sooner.
Nathan is a good boy. He is a lot like you. Fearless and inpatient and buries everything deep. I know thatDaisy will do her absolute to raise him, but I believe he needs you. It has been my pleasure to raise him, and ofall my regrets in this life, and there are many, I regret that I will not get to see him grow into a man. I wouldhave liked to have seen that.
In closing, I ask that you forgive me, Jack. I know that is perhaps asking too much of you, but I'm aski9nganyway. I am asking so you can let go the bitterness and go on with your life. On a purely selfish level, I amasking with the hope that you will forgive me so that I can die with a clearer conscience. And so that when I seeyou on the other side, we can embrace as fiends once more. If you can't forgive me, I understand. I don't knowthat I could ever forgive you if I were in your place. I took a lot from you, Jack. But maybe you can occasionallylook back and laugh at the good times we had together.
StevenThe letter and photograph of his father fell to the counter as Jack struggled to catch his breath. His insides feltsliced up, just as they had fifteen years ago.
"Is he yours?"
Jack nodded.
"That's goddamn evil," Billy said. "She's a damn evil bitch."For years he'd felt betrayal because his best buddy had married his girlfriend. He hadn't even known the half ofit. It had never occurred to him that when they left, they'd taken his child. It had not occurred to him that thebetrayal ran so deep.