Second Chances by Leigh Brown, Victoria Corliss Page B

baby and if it was mine.” He took a sip of water and braced himself for the finish. “I finally heard from him a few days ago. He’d found your birth certificate naming me as the father.”
    The frown was back nestled between Tim’s eyes. “What happened between you and my mother? Why did you leave her?”
    The waitress served their meals efficiently placing plates of steak frites in front of each of them giving George a moment to collect his thoughts. “In a nutshell, my life was in danger and I had to get out of Greece immediately. Otherwise, I promise you, I’d never have left her.”
    “But you’re not together now?” Tim sipped his drink, not the least bit interested in eating.
    George sighed. This was even harder than he thought. “No, we’re not. She wanted to be with her husband.”
    Choking, Tim’s throat burned with vodka and his eyes watered. “Excuse me?”
    His cheeks flaming red, George squirmed in his seat. They were both adults but he felt like a kid caught with his pants down. “You’re mother and I weren’t married.”
    “No shit.” Tim’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Then how do you know you’re the father and not…..?”
    “Harry Lynch was her husband and he’s not the father,” he said wincing at Tim’s caustic words. “ I’m your father. I know this because it says so on the birth certificate, and because I feel it in my gut.”
    Tim played with his food pondering the facts that were starting to chip away at his wall of doubt. But there was more to the story. “Even if the birth certificate’s legit, that doesn’t explain how you found me.”
    “The Massachusetts Open Adoption Agency,” George reminded him gently. “You registered there a few years ago. They told me your name and where you work.”
    He had registered with the agency like a million years ago or at least it felt that way, occasionally updating the information just in case and hoping something like this would come of it, hoping his parents would find him. He chewed slowly on a piece of steak. “Ok, so who’s my mother?”
    Tim’s expression was hopeful, he was starting to believe and it made George sad. Of course he wanted to know about his mother but what could he tell him? He didn’t know why she’d given her baby up and he didn’t know why she hadn’t tried to find him since. Pashmina’s story wasn’t his to tell.
    “Your mother was an incredible woman, young and beautiful when I met her. I was a reporter at the time, speaking on a panel about writing professionally. I spotted her in the audience and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”
    A small smile touched his face as George remembered. “Afterwards we spoke and the connection was immediate. We started working together, me as her writing coach and teacher, she as my muse, my inspiration. You see she wanted to become a novelist and I was trying to branch out with my writing as well.”
    “Your mother was married by this point but her husband was a naval officer. He’d been away for several months already when we met and she was lonely, writing was her escape.” He looked tentatively at Tim paying rapt attention, he wasn’t eating or drinking. “I guess I probably took advantage of the situation but I fell in love with her hard and fast and for a while I thought she loved me too. I didn’t want to believe her when she said she loved her husband and we were quote unquote ‘over’.”
    “So then what, what did you do?” Tim had to remind himself these were his parents they were talking about and not a sappy soap opera.
    “And then I disappeared.” Tim looked dumbfounded and George laughed.
    “I thought it would be temporary, that I’d be home soon and I’d win her back but I was wrong. I didn’t see her again for more than twenty years.”
    They were straying off topic but Tim’s curiosity was piqued. “Why did you have to disappear?”
    George ate his steak, stalling for time while he weighed his options. Telling Tim the truth