I’m no longer smiling. I just want him to get around to saying whatever he brought me here to say. He knew my mom was a drunk, a junkie. What? Did she do something crazy that night?
“Did she ever mention it?”
My brows pinch together and I know I’m glaring. I move my head side to side a couple times before I speak. “With all due respect, Mr. Ross, my mom wasn’t big on story time. She spent most of my life inebriated and fighting with my father. Both were meager excuses for parents. So whatever my mom did in high school, I’m sure it wasn’tsomething she cared to relive or share with a son she didn’t seem to want.”
“Didn’t seem to . . .” His eyes brim and he lowers them to stare at his hands folded on the table and clears his throat. “Uh, I don’t think Mr. Keller is your . . . uh . . . father.”
My vision tunnels. Ever’s sharp intake of breath echoes in my ear. I understand his words perfectly, but my brain refuses to comprehend their meaning.
“You think? Or you know?”
He shakes his head firmly. “I don’t know anything for sure.”
“But there’s something to know?” My amplified tone draws looks from nearby tables. I take in the head swivels in my periphery and try to lower my voice. “What are you saying?”
The waiter appears again, and the look on his face says he knows he’s interrupting. “Shall I give you more time?”
“Please.” Ross nods to dismiss him without taking his eyes off mine.
Ever gives him a timid smile as he silently retreats.
I track all this without taking my eyes off the man across the table. A man who knows my mom. And me? “You don’t have his last name. I assumed he was your . . . that you knew he wasn’t your real father.”
“I did have his name until I changed it. To my mother’s maiden name. Mr. Ross—”
“Jason, please. Call me Jason.” His eyes sag at the corners—his mouth, too. The man is aging before my eyes.
The hamster wheel in my brain is twirling at warp speed, but I can’t form words.
Ever speaks up. “Jason, maybe you can start at the beginning. Fill in some blanks for us. This whole conversation is causing a lot of alarmsto go off in our heads.” My sweet girl really is going to make a kick-ass psychologist.
“Sure. Sure. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be cryptic and I don’t want to alarm either of you. I just . . . think before I do, I should cut to the chase. I think, Julian, I think I might be your real father.”
Ever tightens her grasp on my hand under the table while her other hand flies to her mouth on a sharp intake of breath. I fleetingly wonder how she’s managed to inhale when the air is being sucked out of the room. Jason Ross grows tiny before me as my vision darkens at the edges.
I grip my temples between the thumb and fingers of my free hand, bowing my head over the table. “What?” It comes out barely a whisper and aimed at the table my elbow is bracing to hold my head up.
His hand reaches out, touches my forearm.
I jerk back, clanging the tableware. More heads turn. I scoot my chair back, intending to leave. Ever places the napkin from her lap on the table and scoots her chair back, lacing her fingers with mine. I turn my head and look at her face.Ever.She slow blinks her stormy eyes at me, just once, and nods her head.Solidarity.It’s what I need to turn back to him, face him and say, “I’m sorry. I need to—”
“Julian, please. Don’t go. I don’t mean to ambush you here. I’m as shocked as you are. But I couldn’t—when I learned who you were—when I thought maybe—I didn’t want to waste any more time. Will you please stay? Both of you?” He turns his full gaze on Ever, pleading.Smart.She’s the way to me and he knows it. “Please?”
She looks at me for the answer, but I can tell she wants me to agree.
I nod once and scoot my chair back up to the table.
The relief is clear on his face. He smiles at both of us alternately. “Can we order some food? Just talk?”
I’m not sure how I’ll eat anything right now, but I obligingly look at the menu.
The third item down under entrées is chicken broccoli alfredo. Ever and I glance at each other and smile. It’s like the universe knew we’d need comfort food for this. The waiter appears from nowhere and quietly takes our order. When Ever and I order the same dish, Jason tells the waiter to make it three with a grin he bestows on all three of us, one that trips my heart rate because now it looks so familiar.
Surprisingly, we devour our meals. It’s delicious. It probably helped that we made conscious small talk while we ate. As the waiter clears our plates, I decide to go all in. “I was born Jayce Julian Keller. When I was eighteen I changed my name to Julian McKay—Brandi’s maiden name. When I obtained a copy of my birth certificate to legally change my name, there was no father’s name listed. I never thought twice about it.”
“I’ve always gone by Jase. She would’ve known me as Jase.” His eyes fill again, as they’ve done repeatedly throughout the conversation. “We didn’t exactly know each other, though. We just . . .” He rubs the side of his index finger across his forehead. “God, I’m not proud of this. We just hooked up.”
“How often?” My cheeks flame as I ask, but I can’t help myself.
