“That’s impossible. It must have been someone else. Dad never came to see me, never even mentioned the pregnancy. No one talked to me while I was there…”
The old guy shrugged. “Just a second.” He held up a finger then disappeared into a hall closet, pulling out a folder of discolored papers. “I have something that may clear this up. Ah, there it is.” He pulled out a Polaroid, handing it to me. And sure enough, there stood Augusta Belle’s father, an infant in his arms wrapped in a little blue blanket, a tortured look in his eyes.
Jesus. Augusta Belle didn’t even grab for the picture, just stared at it, eyes roaming over every inch before she buried her head in my arm and let out a fresh batch of tears.
“That’s him.” I handed the photo back.
“And you’re the, ah, biological father?” he asked cautiously.
I nodded, holding back my own emotion.
I’d missed out on so much—the baseball games, the first day of school, swimming lessons, first steps, and giggles.
“Augusta, well, she’s been dealing with a lot of the things that happened while she was at that place. She was taken against her will, as you can imagine. But beyond that, it seems…well, that school didn’t have her sign anything about adopting her baby. She thought she was going to take him home to Tennessee and raise him herself…”
The man’s eyes widened. “But I’ve got the paperwork right here, clearly has the signature of the mother listed.” He pulled out another piece of paper, my eyes scanning it for Augusta Bell’s flowery signature.
It was there, all right, but it certainly wasn’t hers.
In fact, it looked like the signature of a sixty-year-old woman, controlled and precise. Augusta Belle’s had always been all large loops and youthful feeling.
“You didn’t sign that, did you, Augusta?” the older man finally asked, her eyes clear enough to see the signature that so obviously wasn’t hers on Jack Christopher’s birth certificate.
“No.”
He nodded, pushing a hand into his hair. “Look, I won’t lie and say things since my wife passed have been great. Jack and I have had a lot of painful moments, but putting him through a legal battle now—”
“Oh my God, no. I would never.” She was clutching at the stranger’s hand now, the very stranger who’d raised our son. “We don’t want to change his life at all. I guess I just needed… I guess I just needed to know that he was all right, taken care of, loved.” She looked around the house, focusing on the pictures mostly. “And he is. I can tell he’s gotten so much more here with you than I ever could have given him—”
“That’s not true.” Jack’s dad looked from me to her. “Maybe at one time, we had it all. But I can’t raise Jack alone and do it well.” He pressed his lips together, assessing his next words. “He needs a mother, and I just can’t be that for him.” He looked up at me. “Don’t know how long you planned on stayin’ in town for, but while you’re here, I’d love if you could spend time with him. I think he would love it. He’s such a brilliant little guy, so advanced and beyond his age, asking the questions he’s always asked. I think…I think talking to you would help him.”
Augusta Belle’s hand clutched at mine, hope springing into her eyes for the first time since we’d walked up. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” He nodded, setting the folder down on the table. “He won’t be off the bus for a few hours yet. Whaddya say we sit down and chat a little more?”
She nodded, kicking off her shoes and following him down the long hallway before I could even think twice.
I followed suit, kicking off my own dirty boots and taking off down the tile hallway after them, visions of my boy’s beautiful face wallpapering every surface as I went.
Augusta Belle had found our boy.
The son we hadn’t even realized we had.
Evidence of the night that’d changed both of us.
The night we created him.
TWENTY-NINE
Augusta
My heart clenched, Jack and Fallon walking side by side down the length of the yard, heads tilted to the side in just the same way. “They’re so much alike.”
Jack’s dad, Calvin, as he’d insisted we call him, nodded once, quiet smile playing on his lips. “They do. Answers a lot of questions. Like why Jack has such an ear for music, for one.”
“Got that honestly,” I said, heart finally easing into its place inside my own chest as I watched the son who was stolen from me walk next to the man who’d changed my life.
Saved my life.
