Sex and Key Lime Pie (20 page)

He wrung his hands together. “I saw it. I’m not supposed to go into the metal box with the papers, but I did.”

“Why?”

“Rodney Henderson said I was adopted because I don’t look like my mother. A lot of people say that.”

Luc swallowed hard. He was guilty of that himself. “So you wanted to be sure your mom was your mom?”

“Yeah. She is. I think. But if the birth certificate is wrong and you’re not my father, then maybe she’s not my mother.”

A giant knot churned in his stomach. Either he was Sam’s father and Cheyanne had lied to him, or he wasn’t and she had lied to a government agency when she recorded her son’s birth. The latter seemed unlikely.

“When is your birthday?”

“Next month.”

“Your eighth birthday?” he asked but he knew the answer.

“Ninth.”

“Shit,” he grumbled then glanced at his son. “I’m sorry. That’s not a nice word.”

Sam shrugged. “You’re mad at me.”

“No. I’m mad at your mother.” One look at his hurt expression and Luc realized that wasn’t the smartest thing to say, but he had thirty-seconds of experience in the fatherhood department. “She should have told me I was your father. I’ll have to ask her why she didn’t.”

He sprang to his feet and grabbed Luc’s sleeve. “You can’t tell her.”

Luc laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I have to.”

“You promised.”

Talk about the rock and the proverbial hard place! If he spoke to Cheyanne, he would break the first promise he’d ever made to his son. Neither could he ignore the truth until she saw fit to bring it up. If she planned to tell him at all.

No matter what he’d done, he had the right to know about Sam. For the last nine years, he had been no better than his own father. He never felt more like a bastard than he did at that moment. How the hell could she have kept this from him?

He took Sam’s small hand in his. “I didn’t know about you.”

“I know.”

“I wouldn’t have ignored you all this time.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?” Luc asked. He kept his voice even, no easy feat with the anger raging through him.

“My mother told me. She said it was all her fault I didn’t know you and that if I really wanted to meet you she would see if it was possible this summer.”

A hell of a lot more than she had told him! “What else did she tell you about me?”

Sam tried to tug his hand free, but Luc wanted to keep the contact. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Anything Sam said now would probably make him feel disloyal to his mother. His announcement explained a lot. Like why he never referred to Cheyanne’s late husband as his father. Or why he became so sullen after Alicia referred to Luc by his real name. And why the kid kept staring like he was terrified he’d made a huge mistake in telling him.

“All right. We won’t talk about your mother. I’m sure she had a real good reason. Sit down and we’ll watch the game.”

Sam flopped on the mattress on his stomach. He slid the time capsule under the foot of the bed, and then propped his head up with his hands to watch the television. Since it seemed like the best position for viewing the game, Luc followed suit. Every time he nudged closer to the center, Sam did the same until their shoulders touched.

At least his son no longer seemed uncomfortable around him. The truth was a great stress reliever. Too bad his mother hadn’t tried it sooner.

After a few minutes of concentrating on the game, Sam shot him a sideways glance. “So... does that mean Alicia is my blood cousin?”

“Yes.”

“And Ricky?”

“He’s a little different. He belongs to one of Miguel’s brothers, which makes him a second cousin. But family is family.”

“I got a lot of family, huh?” Sam smiled as if it was a badge of honor. Most of his cousins wished the family were a lot smaller. Especially since at least one family obligation a week ruined their social lives.

“More than fifty aunts, uncles and cousins. I stopped counting a long time ago.”

After a few seconds of contemplation, Sam said, “I guess I shouldn’t call you Uncle Luc anymore.” “What do you want to call me?”

“Well, Daddy sounds like I’m a baby. Father sounds like you’re the priest. Dad? Would you mind if I called you that?”

Would he mind? He insisted. He draped his arm across Sam’s back. “That would be great.” Luc couldn’t begin to describe the feeling of pride and warmth surging through him.

“Okay, Dad. So what does that make Uncle Tony’s sister to me?”

For a kid who didn’t want to talk about it anymore, Sam was doing a good job. Luc wouldn’t have to break his promise. Cheyanne would figure out soon enough that he knew the truth. And when that time came, he had half a mind to let her know what missing nine years of his son’s life would feel like.

****

Cheyanne walked along the jetty. Water usually calmed her, but tonight nothing helped. After Elisabeth’s angry reaction, could she expect any better from Luc? She accepted responsibility for her actions but Luc owned some of the responsibility as well.

She glanced at her watch 10:30 p.m. Still early, but she was clueless about how to find Luc. What did he do when he wasn’t at her house or on the boat? She had no idea. While she had the sitter for the night, she decided to try to track him down. She crossed the beach and headed back to her house for her van. As she rounded the corner of Shore Avenue, she saw the truck in her driveway. Instead of her normal rush of excitement a knot cramped in her stomach. He knew she’d gone out for the night. Why had he returned?

She entered the relatively quiet house. From her bedroom, she caught the faint sound of the television. She tiptoed into the room. Both Sam and Luc were out cold, feet on the pillows and heads resting on the end of the bed. The easiest course would be to leave them there until morning. That was also the coward’s way. She needed to get this over with.

“Luc,” she whispered and tapped his shoulder at the same time.

Unlike her son, he was a light sleeper, thankfully. He raised his head and glanced around the room to get his bearings. “What time is it?”

“It’s going on eleven. I need to talk to you.”

She turned and went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. No point spilling her guts until he was alert enough to grasp her meaning. He joined her a minute later, taking a seat at the counter. Unlike his normal, relaxed stance, he sat ramrod straight, looking uptight and tense.

“I guess you’re wondering why I’m here,” he grumbled.

“It crossed my mind.”

He stretched but it didn’t appear to relive his tension. Not a hint of a smile graced his features. Less than two hours earlier, he’d been playful, passionate and even demonstrative as he tried to talk her into blowing off her friends for an evening with him. Now, he was cold and distant.

“You’re back early. Something go wrong with your ladies night out?”

“You could say that,” she answered.

“Yeah, you sound heartbroken. I need to talk to you about something.”

“Right now?”

No. She woke him up so she could talk to him tomorrow. Her pulse raced. Calm down, she silently warned herself. She would not say things in anger no matter how he provoked her.

“Why are you here, Luc?” She had hoped that he wanted to see her, but his attitude stunk for a man looking for quiet time with his lover.

“Does it matter why? You wanted to talk to me. I’m here. Call it telepathy.”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Do I have reason to be?”

Inhaling deeply, she struggled for control. “Are we going to play twenty questions?”

“You’re the one who wants to talk, Cheyanne. Start talking.”

She poured herself a cup of coffee and slid another across the counter toward Luc. The strong, hot brew contrasted with the cold chills washing over her. Before she could begin, Sam shuffled into the living room rubbing his eyes.

“Dad?”

Luc curled his arm around Sam’s shoulder and drew him close. “I’m right here, Sam.”

The plastic cup slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a muted thud. Hot coffee splattered in all directions, a large amount making a direct hit on her sneaker and pants leg. Her heart lodged in her throat, rendering her mute.

Sam jumped and opened his eyes wider. “Mom?”

Her jaw dropped, but not a single word came out. What could she say? How did Sam know? How long had he known? For the past few days he had been asking a lot of questions about Luc, but she chalked it up to curiosity since he had been around so often.

“Mom?” Sam called out again, this time with concern in his voice. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Sam.” A lie, and a poor one at that! She looked at Luc. His expression turned even colder.

Sam’s gaze went back and forth between the two adults. His guilty expression also reflected an underlying fear. “Are you fighting? I’m sorry. It’s not his fault. It’s mine.”

Grabbing a wad of paper towels, she dropped it onto the spill on the floor. “What’s your fault, Sam?”

“I told him about the birth certificate. But he promised he wouldn’t say anything.” He pulled away from his father. “You promised.”

“Luc didn’t say anything.” Now she knew how the truth came out. But what had prompted Sam to look at the papers to begin with?

Luc ruffled Sam’s hair. “I wouldn’t break my promise. But I need to talk to your mother alone for a few minutes.”

That was the last thing she needed. “No you don’t. I need to talk to my son first.”

“My son,” Luc corrected.

“Our son,” she conceded. “You need to go now and figure out what you want.”

“Oh, I already know what I want.”

“Not now.” She shot him a warning glare and leaned closer. Her voice was barely a whisper. “But you better think very carefully before you speak this time, Luc. You have every right to be angry, but you do not have the right to hurt me again.”

Luc seemed to want to say something but he remained silent. Especially with poor, confused Sam staring at his parents with such anguish in his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sam.”

“When?” Sam asked, as if he needed confirmation.

“I’ll pick you up from soccer camp and take you to dinner...” Luc exhaled slowly. “If that’s all right with your mother.”

“Anytime you want to take him is fine.” She smiled and maintained a polite facade for her son’s benefit. This should have been the best day in his life.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad.”

Dad. Sam even said the title with pride and reverence. He gave his father a hug that bought a fleeting spark of warmth to Luc’s eyes.

When he finally left, Cheyanne dropped into the plush cushions of the sofa with a painful moan. This wasn’t how she pictured the moment when she would finally tell Luc the truth.

Then again, her fantasies regarding Luc had never materialized. Her hopes for Sam, however, came true. No matter what else happened, Luc wanted to be a part of his son’s life.

Sam sat next to her on the couch. “Mom? Are you mad at me?”

“No. Are you mad at me?”

“No.” He snuggled against her and closed his heavy eyelids. “Why didn’t you tell me he was my father?”

Cheyanne gently stroked his head. “I was trying to find the right time.”

“I’m sorry if I ruined your surprise.”

“You didn’t.”

Who knew? Maybe the truth was better coming from Sam. It forced Luc to swallow his anger to deal with his son. He might not have been as guarded if it came from her.

“Do we still have to go to California?”

Although she knew this moment would come even before Sam learned the truth, it felt more poignant now. “I will try to arrange something Sam, but I can’t make any promises. But you will still be able to come back for all the holidays.”

It seemed like a lousy consolation prize. Especially when she had always told her son they would stop moving when he’d had enough.

Chapter
Fourteen

Luc spent a sleepless night followed by a shitty day at the factory. His employees had realized at the start of the 7 a.m. shift to avoid him at all cost. They drew straws to choose the unlucky sap that had to approach him with the news that one of the machines went down. He shuffled the papers on the top of his oak desk, signing the letters and purchase orders without thoroughly checking the documents.

His anger with Cheyanne had not subsided overnight. Everything about their relationship was based on a lie. She didn’t even try to explain her behavior. Instead she asked him to leave. How big of her to acknowledge his right to be angry before ushering him out the door. He’d been so damned furious he’d thought about suing her for custody, but he knew he didn’t have a case.

The factory manager made his way toward the open door, looking like a man being sent to his doom. Luckily, Miguel cut him off and handled the problem before Luc alienated another loyal employee. A few minutes later, his cousin joined him and shut the office door, for the first time in the eight years they had taken over the factory.