“Meaning?”
“Meaning I see the way you look at Laila. I see the way she looks at you.”
“There’s nothing there.”
“She’s been seeing a guy.”
“I know.”
“I figured as much.”
“I won’t interfere.”
Tim opened the car door for Hester. She hugged Wilde fiercely and whispered, “Don’t disappear again, okay? You can live in the woods or whatever, but you need to stay in touch every once in a while.” She pushed back and looked up into his face. “Do you understand?”
He nodded. Hester slipped into the backseat. Wilde watched the car pull down the cul-de-sac. He reached for his phone and dialed his foster sister. When she answered, he could hear the normal family cacophony. Rola Naser had five children.
“Hello?”
He knew that his name wouldn’t pop up because he was calling from a disposable phone. “Can we skip the part where you give me shit for not staying in touch?”
“Hell no,” she said.
“Rola—”
“What the eff — and I say ‘eff’ only because there are children present but I really really want to say the whole word — what the eff is wrong with you, Wilde? Wait. Don’t answer. Who knows better than me?”
“No one.”
“Exactly. No one. And you promised last time you wouldn’t do this again.”
“I know.”
“It’s like Lucy kicking the football with Charlie Brown.”
“Lucy doesn’t kick the football.”
“What?”
“Lucy holds the football and then pulls it away when Charlie Brown is about to kick it.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s where you’re going with this, Wilde?”
“You’re smiling, Rola. I can hear it in your voice.”
“I’m angry.”
“Angry but smiling.”
“It’s been more than a year.”
“I know. Are you pregnant again?”
“No.”
“Did I miss anything big?”
“In the past year?” Rola sighed. “What do you want, Wilde?”
“I need you to trace a mobile number for me.”
“Read it off to me.”
“Now?”
“No, wait another year and then do it.”
Wilde read her the number that PB had given to him. Ten seconds later, Rola said, “Interesting.”
“What?”
“It’s billed to a shell corporation called PB&J.”
“Owners? Address?”
“No owners. Address is the Cayman Islands. Whose phone number is this?”
“My cousin’s, I think.”
“Say what?”
After young Wilde was found in the woods, he was taken in as a foster child by the kind and generous Brewer family. More than thirty foster kids had lived with the Brewers, and all had been made better by the experience. Most kids stayed only a few months. Some, like Wilde and Rola, had stayed for years.
“It’s a long story,” he said.
“You’re looking for your birth parents?”
“No. I mean, I was.”
“But you put your DNA into one of those genealogy sites?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“What part of ‘a long story’ is confusing you?”
“You’ve never told a long story. I don’t think you can. Just give me the broad strokes.”
He told her about the communication with PB. He didn’t tell her about his father.
“Read me the note,” Rola said when he finished.
Wilde did.
“So this PB guy is famous?”
“Or thinks he is,” Wilde said.
“I hope he’s being melodramatic.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that almost sounds like a suicide note,” Rola said.
Wilde had certainly taken notice of the message’s desperation and despair. “Can you see if you can get any information on the shell corporation?”
“Will you come by and see me and the kids?”
“Yes.”
“This isn’t a quid pro quo. I’ll get you the info anyway.”
“I know,” Wilde said. “I love you, Rola.”
“Yeah, I know. Are you back from Costa Rica?”
“Yes.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that. You back in the woods?”
“Yes.”
“Damn.”
“It’s all good.”
“I know,” Rola said. “That’s the problem. I’ll see what I can dig up on PB&J, but I doubt it’ll lead anywhere.”
He hung up and headed back inside. Laila was gone from the room. Matthew was half watching the second half, half surfing or whatever on his laptop. Wilde collapsed onto the couch next to him.
“Where’s your mother?” he asked.
“She’s upstairs working. You know she’s got a boyfriend?”
Wilde chose to answer the question with a question. “You okay with it?”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?”
“Just asking.”
“Not up to me.”
“True,” Wilde said.
The game came out of commercial. Matthew folded his arms and focused on the screen. “Darryl’s a little too polished.”
Wilde gave a noncommittal “Oh.”
“Like he never uses contractions. It’s always ‘I am’ never ‘I’m.’ ‘Do not’ instead of ‘don’t.’ Annoys the shit out of me.”
Wilde said nothing.
“He’s got matching silk pajamas. Black. Looks like a suit. Even his workout clothes match.”
Wilde continued to say nothing.
“No thoughts?”
“He sounds like an ogre,” Wilde said.
“Right?”
“Not right. We let your mom do what makes her happy.”
“If you say so.”
They fell into a comfortable silence the same way Wilde used to with Matthew’s father.
A few minutes later, Matthew said, “Observation.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re distracted, Wilde. Or if I was Darryl, I would say, ‘You are distracted, Wilde.’”
Wilde couldn’t help but smile. “I could see how that would be annoying.”
“Right?”
“I met my biological father.”
“Wait, what?”
Wilde nodded. Matthew sat up and turned all his attention to Wilde. His father used to do this too — one of those people who had the ability to make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world. Spilling his guts was hardly Wilde’s forte, but perhaps he owed Matthew at least that much after his stupid vanishing act.
“He lives in Las Vegas.”
“Cool. Like in a casino?”
“No. He’s in construction.”
“How did you find him?”
“One of those ancestry DNA sites.”
“Wow. So you went to Vegas?”
“Yep.”
Matthew spread his hands. “And?”
“And he didn’t know I existed and doesn’t know who the mother is.”
Matthew stayed quiet while Wilde elaborated. When he finished, Matthew frowned and said, “Odd.”
“What?”
“He doesn’t remember her name.”
“Why is that odd?”
Matthew frowned again. “Okay, you, well, you sleep with a lot of women, so maybe you don’t remember all their names. I get that. It’s gross, Wilde. But I get it.”
“Thanks.”
“But your father? This Daniel Carter? He’d only slept with one girl before this. He only slept with one girl — the same girl — after this. You’d think that he’d remember the names of the girls in between.”
“You think he lied to me?”
Matthew shrugged. “I just find it odd, that’s all.”
“You’re young.”
“So was your father at the time you were conceived.”
Wilde nodded. “Good point.”
“You should call and push him a little.”
Wilde didn’t reply.
“Don’t just call it quits, Wilde.”