of his head. Wrinkling my nose, I add, “Did you shower today?”
He shrugs. “Why bother? It’s not like I’m planning on going anywhere.”
“Except for the fact that you and your teenage boy stench are now fouling up my sheets?” I tease.
He tips his head back and he grins, popping out a small dimple he also inherited from his father. Then a white-hot rush of panic floods through me. Mine—he’s always been mine.
Analytically, I know Kevin has an equal number of chromosomes from both his father and me, but it’s hard to reconcile that emotionally, especially after speaking with Jennings. If it weren’t for the small spray of freckles across Kevin’s nose both Dean and I had, Kevin would be Jennings’s mirror image when it comes to his looks.
But his heart? What will finding this out do to the precious heart I nurtured for fifteen years? I squeeze him closer to me, whispering, “Why couldn’t you stay a little baby?”
“Mom?” His confusion is evident.
“Just feeling emotional, sweetheart.” Fumbling for a reason, I remind him, “Soon, you’re going to be off to college. What am I going to do then?”
“I’ll always be with you, Mom,” Kevin vows, laying his head back down.
Hugging him tighter, I raise my eyes to the popcorn ceiling that’s been in this room since I first rented it from the Smiths. Again pressing a kiss to the top of his slightly greasy hair, I relish the moment, even as I cringe a little. “How many more chances will I have to do this?”
“As many as you want,” Kevin assures me.
We lie in comfortable silence until Kevin asks, “Is everything okay with you and Maris?”
“Yes and no.” I refuse to lie. There are times when I’ll delay telling him the truth, but if I do, I’m honest about why.
“It will be okay,” he reassures me.
“What makes you so certain?”
“Because Maris is family,” he says simply. “The last family we have. Nothing she did can be worse than losing her forever. Right?” He blinks up at me questioningly.
Hearing those words from Kevin puts a lid on the cauldron of seething emotions that have been swirling around in my head. Because he’s right. Nothing is worse than death. “You know what, Kevin? I forget sometimes you might not look a lot like me, but you’re smarter than I could ever dream of being.” I squeeze him tightly. “Let’s go find Maris before she heads to the bar, then how about you and I plan a day together tomorrow. There’s someplace special I want to show you.” And something important I need to tell you, I add silently.
Kevin rolls off the bed and holds out his hand. “Sounds great. But I wouldn’t say I don’t look like you, Mom,” he counters.
“Oh?” I squeeze his hand as we leave my now cold stew sitting on the bed to make our way down to the main living area.
“After all, wasn’t it you who once said me, you, and Uncle Dean all got these silly freckles because our brains must be too big to contain in our heads?” His beautiful green eyes turn like polished jade with the memory. He quickly turns his head away to hide his emotions.
I said that when he was what, four, five? I recall struggling to explain why we didn’t look alike because some jerky kid in his preschool asked where his daddy was. It was the quickest thing I could think of years before a young boy who had plenty of love consciously understood people’s misconceptions about what was “normal.”
It was the first time he ever asked me about his father, but it wasn’t the last. That was this past fall during the genetics portion of his AP Biology class. God, that conversation was much easier to tolerate as I could discuss recessive traits and draw charts to make Kevin understand his parentage. Now, I only can hope he’s open to hearing what I have to say tomorrow when I bring up the man himself. For a moment, fear assails me, causing my feet to stumble.
But my tall, and still growing, son catches me. “Better watch out, Mom,” he warns. “You don’t want to take a fall. It could be nasty.”
Moving ahead of me, he doesn’t hear me whisper, “I already did, but I got you out of it. So, I’d do it over again in a heartbeat.”
Getting my bearings, I walk back into the kitchen to find the sister of my heart eyeing me warily. I barely open