Love and Secrets - Kit Morgan Page 0,12
was fun and I started to really fall for her.”
“And she for you?”
He nodded. “But I screwed up. I did something I shouldn’t have, she got pregnant and then for whatever reason decided I didn’t need to know.”
This time Holly put two hands to her head. “Kinda selfish, don’t you think? I mean, she leaves you, has your daughter, and how long have you had her again? A month?”
He nodded. “Almost.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “Do her parents know where you are?”
“That’s the thing.” He took a sip of coffee. “The Parkers don’t know about the baby.”
Holly almost fell off the chair. “What?!”
“Jillian never told them.”
Holly stood. “Why didn’t she tell them about their own grandchild?” She started to pace. This was a very difficult conversation to have in low voices.
“Because Jillie’s relationship with her parents wasn’t good. I never met them, myself, but heard enough stories from her and her friend, Tricia, to know how it was.”
“Is that what Tricia told you when she brought you Sophie?” Holly asked.
“Yes. Jillian was getting ready to tell them but was afraid they’d insist she move home. She told me she always felt like a prisoner living under their roof and wanted to stay in the city. Her parents live in Garden Valley.”
“Where’s that?”
“Long Island.”
“I thought you said they had a house in the Hamptons. That’s at the other end of Long Island, isn’t it?”
“Yes. They have two homes. One on each end.”
“That makes no sense to me but whatever,” Holly said. “Apparently I don’t know the minds of rich people.”
He chuckled. “Sit down, drink your coffee.”
She returned to the chair, sat and took her coffee from the desk. “Okay, let me get this straight. You have a daughter that you didn’t know about until a month ago. She has one set of grandparents in New York who are filthy rich but don’t know she exists. And another set here in Clear Creek that are, well, I’m not going to classify them financially. Suffice to say you haven’t told your mom and dad yet.”
He slowly shook his head.
“For gosh sakes, Zane! Why not?”
“Because it took some time to figure out what to do. Think about what’s best for Sophie.”
She looked at the baby. She was a beautiful child with rosy fat cheeks and a shock of light brown hair. “What color are her eyes?”
“Blue.”
She drew in a breath and let it go. “Wow, Zane. I didn’t expect this.”
“That makes two of us.”
She looked at him and smiled. “So, what are you going to do?”
“Well, if you help me, then I’ll tell my parents. I just don’t want them trying to talk me into giving her up for adoption or anything stupid like that.”
“Oh, Zane.” She reached over and put a hand on his knee. “Don’t talk like that. For crying out loud, your dad’s the town preacher. He’s not going to suggest anything of the sort.”
“Oh no? Do I look like the fatherly type to you?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know you anymore. We’re not in high school. We’re not even in college. I mean, look at you…” she said and waved a hand at him. “You’re all grown up.”
He smiled. “So are you.”
She shrugged and looked at the baby again. “Do you… want to keep her?”
He stood. “Of course. That’s why I’m in this mess.”
“What mess? You’re on the birth certificate, she’s your child.” Her eyes widened. “She is yours, isn’t she?”
“Yes. The timing’s right, and if I have to, I’ll get a DNA test.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
He stood, hands on hips, and stared out the window. “The Parkers. Even though Jillian didn’t tell them about Sophie, they have a right to know. I’m just afraid they’re going to try and take her from me when they find out. Worse, I’m afraid my folks will tell me it’s for the best. How can I raise a child on my own, they’ll say.” He let his hands drop and sat on the bed again. “I wasn’t much when I left Clear Creek after high school. I wasn’t much more after college. But I worked, took care of myself, and made an honest living.”
“Good for you,” she said with a smile. “Um, what exactly do you do?”
He blushed.
She smiled again. “Zane?”
“Have you ever seen a comic book called the Lone Stranger?”
She gaped at him. “Yes, I have.” She stood. “You mean… that’s you? You’re the artist?”
“And the writer.”
She laughed then quickly shut her mouth and looked at the sleeping baby.