She could tell he was holding something back. “What is it?”
With his eyes back on the table, Oliver muttered, “I really don’t know . . .”
Claire’s heart stopped. Had David wanted to adopt this young man? Was that the unspoken truth? Of course it was. She could have been this boy’s mother! No wonder these feelings were coming at her so hard.
Attempting to collect herself, she said in a shaky voice, “He should have told me about you from the beginning.” And Claire had to ask. “Was there anything else he was keeping from me? I guess you wouldn’t know.”
Oliver glanced at her and shook his head.
This young boy might have been her son. It was all too much, the revelations, the deception.
Thankfully, Whitaker stepped in. “He took you to a baseball game down in Sarasota? What was that all about?”
“The Yankees, Orioles, yeah. How’d you know?”
Coming back to reality, Claire dug into her purse. “The only reason we’re here is because we found this picture in his desk.” She slid it across the table.
Oliver stared at it for a long time. “I can’t believe he’s dead. And I’ve spent all these years hating him.” He kept staring at the photo until a smile came.
“Was it a good day?” Whitaker asked.
Oliver looked at him, much brighter this time. “The best. Are you kidding me? Starlin Castro hit one out of the park at the bottom of the eighth, bases loaded. I jumped up and spilled my hot dog all over David, ketchup and relish and everything.”
He handed the picture back to Claire.
She shook her head. “No, it’s yours. You keep it, please.”
Oliver pulled it back with a thanks.
Needing a break from the intensity, Claire asked, “Where do you live? What’s your life like now? We tried to find you at the Oakwood House.” She couldn’t believe she was talking to a boy who might have become her son if David had not been killed. How would she have reacted when they’d come in the door? She wasn’t sure.
“Oh, yeah,” Oliver said. “That was a long time ago. I’m with a family now.”
“You’re adopted?” Claire asked with a shaky voice.
“No, I’m living with a foster family. Very different than a group home. There’s five of us in there right now.”
In a soft, exhausted voice, Claire asked, “Can I ask where your parents are?” Maybe the answer could help Claire understand him.
Oliver looked at Kari, who was dabbing her forehead with a handkerchief, then back at Claire. “Whoever my father is, he doesn’t know I exist. My mom’s somewhere up in Georgia, in and out of jail. She’s an addict.”
Claire’s bottom lip jutted out. “When’s the last time you saw her?”
“Two years ago. She tried to get me back, but then went bad again. Her rights were terminated when I was twelve.”
Claire found herself nodding at the strength of this young man. “That’s gotta be tough.”
“It happens.”
So many questions, but they couldn’t drill him forever. They talked for twenty more minutes, much lighter conversation exploring his world. Oliver told them that he loved sports, but baseball was his favorite. He also loved food and cooking. And he had really good grades. Claire wanted to clap for him as he talked about the good in his life.
Then Kari said they had to leave.
Whitaker looked across the table. “Do you think we could meet again, Oliver? Claire has asked me to finish David’s book, so we can get it out there. A testament to David, a way to remember him. I have a feeling you could help.” Whitaker looked at Claire. “And I know Claire would like to visit with you more.”
Claire nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Can we take you out for a bite to eat sometime?” Whitaker asked. “The boy in the book loves hamburgers. Do you?”
“Yeah, for sure.”
“Then I’ve got the spot. But first I’d love to—” He corrected himself. “We’d love to meet your foster parents and see your place. See what your life is like. Would that be okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“How about this? I’ll reach out to Kari later today and go from there.”
Oliver agreed, and Claire wasn’t sure whether she’d ever see him again.
It wasn’t until they were back in the Rover and pulling back onto Fourth that Claire snapped, completely breaking down. With her elbows pressing down on her thighs, she cried into her hands. So many lies. For months. Had she been connected at all to David in their marriage? And to think she