“You need to be prepared for that in a few years, because Micah will eat you out of house and home.”
“And also drink out of the juice container instead of getting a glass.”
“How do you know that?” Ray asked, laughing.
“Because it’s something my brothers used to do, and I bet you did it, too.”
Ray held up a hand. “Guilty as charged.” His expression changed, as he studied the face of the woman who had the power to make him feel things he wasn’t allowed to feel. Not at this time in his life. “What have you told Micah about his father?”
Migdalia knew the question would eventually come up. It was if they’d danced around the subject, and now it had to be resolved. “I told him the truth, Ramon.”
“And that was?”
“I’d fallen in love with this boy, and we broke up before he was born.”
Ray rested an elbow on the table. “You didn’t tell him that I wanted to wait until after he was born to have a paternity test?”
“No! Why would I tell my child his father didn’t want him?”
“It’s not that I didn’t want the child, Migdalia. I just wanted to make certain he was mine.”
“And what if we’d stayed together and he wasn’t yours?” she questioned, angrily. “Would you still have claimed him as your son?”
“Of course.”
“Whyof course?”
“Because if I loved you enough to marry you, then I would’ve accepted anything that came from you.”
A rush of color darkened her face. “What about now, Ramon? Has everything changed because you now know Micah’s yours and not some other man’s?”
“Yes, Migdalia. Everything’s changed, because I’ve changed.”
“How?”
“I want my son in my life.”
Migdalia tried to suppress a giggle. “Do you hear yourself, Ramon? You’re an ordained Catholic priest who wants to have a relationship with his bastard son.”
Ray’s hand came down hard on the table, rattling dishes and serving pieces. “I don’t ever want you to utter that word in my presence again.”
Migdalia half-rose from her chair. “Or what, Ramon? Or should I say Father Torres!”
Pushing back his chair, Ray stood up, walked out of the kitchen, and stood at the living room window, staring out on the street and waiting until he felt his anger wane and he was back in control.
He knew Micky blamed him for deserting her when she needed him most. If he’d been a different person at the time, there was no question that he would’ve married her and given his son his name. Even if he hadn’t been able to afford to take care of a wife, he would’ve asked his parents if she could live with them until he completed medical school.
He returned to the kitchen to find Migdalia crying, and he recalled her weeping before she walked out on him. Nowthat seemed like eons ago. Ray walked over to her, eased her from the chair, and cradled her against his chest.
“It’s going to be okay, Micky. I’m going to take care of you and our son.”
“How are you going to do that?” Pulling back, she stared up at him. Light from a ceiling fixture illuminated a face the color of burnished gold, and he noticed a sprinkling of freckles over her cheekbones that weren’t there years ago.
“You are going to marry me.”
“The blow on your head must have left you with some brain damage. You’re a priest and forbidden to marry.”
“I’m not forbidden to marry, Micky. I took a vow not to marry. That’s a choice I made before I realized I had a child who needs to grow up with his mother and father.”
