But then, Margaret had already climbed on the stool andinventoried the contents of the upper cabinets last night or this morning before I arrived, because a sticker sayingPack for Storagewas affixed to one of the glasses on the top shelf.
I tell him this. “You’re not to blame, so please, don’t feel like you have to stay here. Your wife must be wondering where you are.” I’m ready for him to leave, because my queasiness is getting worse.
“She’s, um, in Seattle.”
“Oh, that’s a beautiful city! What’s she doing there?”
“Visiting her family and house hunting. We’re moving there in a few weeks.”
Moving? Relief floods me. If he moves to the West Coast, he won’t be interfering in my life. I haven’t had a chance to fully think through all the implications of having him show up, but I’ve thought through enough to be terrified.
“Anyway, if it’s okay with you,” he continues, “I’d like to hang around and find out how the surgery goes. I feel pretty invested in the outcome.”
How can I say no? He saved Margaret’s life. “Sure. No problem.”
His disconcertingly blue eyes stay on me, and he pulls his brows together. “You don’t look like you feel so good.”
I don’t. That bite of power bar isn’t sitting well and the nausea is reaching a crisis point. “I—uh... Excuse me,” I say. I rise from the hall bench and dash across the hall to the ladies’ room.
I heave into the toilet. When I finish, I wash my face and rinse my mouth, then chew a couple of mints. I feel like a new person when I rejoin him in the hallway a few minutes later.
He gazes at me in that intense way again and I wonder if he can tell I just barfed. “Are you all right?”
I nod.
“Want to head to the cafeteria?” he asks.
“Okay.” I try to make conversation in order to appear normal as we walk to the elevator. “This move to Seattle—is it to live closer to her family, or for work?”
“Both reasons.” He tells me about his wife’s career with aninternational hotel chain and her new regional position. “I’ve taken the Uniform Bar Exam so I can practice law in most states. I’m joining a new firm out there.”
The elevator arrives, and we have it to ourselves. “What kind of law do you practice?”
“Corporate. I specialize in mergers, acquisitions, and mediation.”
That sounds pretty specialized, all right. “When are you moving?” I ask.
“Well, Jessica has to be out there permanently at the beginning of June. I’ll stay behind to finish up a couple of mergers, then I’ll join her in mid-July, early August.”
“Do you have children?” I ask as the elevator opens on the atrium level.
“No. Not yet.”
So he wants them. I file that information away. “What does Jessica think about you seeking out Lily?”
He blinks, and his mouth briefly tightens. It’s almost, but not quite, a flinch. “She doesn’t know.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
He shrugs. “She’s the one who found the donor registry site, uploaded my information, and told me a child was looking for me, so she must have figured I would.”
“Your wife registered to find your child?”
“Yeah.” The word comes out like a fastball—quick and hard, as if it’s a topic he wants to blow right past.
“I don’t really understand,” I say. “You signed an agreement to remain anonymous. That was extremely important to Brooke.”
He nods. “I get that, and I intended to honor that. But then Jessica found this site and told me a child was looking for me. I thought I was dealing with a teenager going through the ‘who am I?’ phase who’d registered on his or her own to find me, or maybe had a medical need. I had no way of knowing it was a young child—or the grandmother reaching out because the child’s mother died.”
