A knock at the door calls my attention. “I’ll grab it.”
“Perfect, then you and I can sit and chat at that massive island.” He says and heads that way.
I hand him his coffee and the bag and sit beside him. “Thank you for this, next time it’s my treat.”
“Probably should be here, not at Fairfax,” he says and clears his throat before taking a sip of his coffee and setting it down. “Your old man was never a fan of mine.”
I turn and look at him, “You know my father?”
“Yeah, not a big fan,” his jaw clenches, and he shakes his head.
“Paul,” I shake my head. “We’re connected in a way that I don’t want to have murderous thoughts about you, and I will if you shit talk my father, he’s my everything.”
“And for three years, Maggie Hale was my Patsy and mine.”
“What?” My voice breaks automatically.
“You look just like her kid, stunning.” His eyes turn red.
“Paul, I,” I shake my head.
He places his hand over mine. “You know I was an orphan.” I nod. “When Patsy kept losing babies, we decided maybe God, who by the way, I was angry at for letting her hurt so bad, had bigger plans for us. So, we looked into adoption, and they kept trying to get us to search overseas. Patsy just felt wrong about it. Like she was buying a kid, that someone had to give up because they couldn’t afford it, then realized it wasn’t much different here. We hit pause and started trying to help those people, the moms who needed just a little help to get their feet under them.”
“I think that’s beautiful, and I don’t want to sound like a complete bitch, but?—”
“Right,” he squeezes my hand.
“Harbor House, was close and connected to our church. Patsy spent a lot of time there volunteering. She fell in love with the kids who had a hard time being adopted because of their age.”
“You met Mom there when she was a social worker?”
“We met your mother when she was fourteen and living there.” I shake my head, and he nods his. “She was going to be a social worker, was her dream. Lived here with us, went withPatsy the day Mr. Big Bucks showed up.” He grumbles. “I mean, your father showed up with a camera crew trying to get press.” He chuckles. “Maggie ran him off. He showed up a day after with boxes of food and clothes for donations. The day she turned eighteen, he asked me for her hand. I told him to shit in his hat.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Didn’t like him.” He shrugs.
“Did Patsy?”
He smirks, looking down, and shakes his head. “She was devastated, and happy for her at the same time.” He looks at me. “You do know that’s what they really mean when they talk about women being better multitaskers. It’s a nice way of saying you’re not —”
“Don’t even,” I can’t help but laugh as I bat away tears.
He catches the next, leans in, shoulder hitting mine lightly, “You proved my damn point, Sassy.” He sighs, “The real reason I didn’t like him was less about the money and more about the fact he’d been married and had two little ones. I didn’t want my Maggie to throw away her dreams to raise a woman, and I use that term loosely, because Deborah has never been anything but a social climbing gold digger. My Patsy knew Deborah’s mother, and again with the old sayings, that apple didn’t fall too far.” He turns fully and looks at me. “Same holds true to you and Maggie, a much prettier, stronger, and morally sound tree, but a tree, nonetheless.”
“Why wouldn’t they tell me the truth?”
“Image Sofie. Fairfax PR got ahead of it all, created the backstory.”
“And they left you and Patsy out of it,” I whisper.
“Maggie and Patsy volunteered together. Hell, we and I went to the hospital when you were born.” He smiles. “That box of pictures? Have you looked at them yet?”
I shake my head. “Been busy.”
“When you’re ready, take a gander. Birthdays, holidays, we had moments with you.” He swallows hard and shakes his head. “When she passed, Maggie, before Patsy, it devastated us, and your dad,” he shakes his head. “He didn’t make it easy to see you. But we still tried. From a distance, of course.” He chuckles. “One of your nannies called the cops on us at Central Park. Thought we looked suspicious. He was a friend of mine, and strongly suggested we leave you be, reminded me that no amount of money would have been enough to get visitation or access.” He sighs. “And your dad loved Maggie in a way I loved Patsy. And you, that man had you with him all the time. Never did remarry.” He wipes away more of my tears.
“I’m sorry.”
